The Peak of the Canyon-Part II

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on October 11, 2019 in Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Travel

October 6, 2019, Jacob Lake-

I made a silent promise to my long-departed maternal grandfather, whom I never met in this life, but who has appeared to me, a few times, that I would not give in to a more irrational level of acrophobia. He has been one of my spirit guides, all these years, exhorting me to face life and overcome obstacles. He and Grandma imparted that message to my mother and her siblings; an examination of their lives bears out that exhortation’s fruits.

So, as I readied for visits to three of the overlooks at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, there was no trepidation at engaging the heights of this wondrous place. The North Rim exists at the highest point of the western Colorado Plateau. Had the canyon never been carved, one would face a 2,000 foot increase in elevation, from Tusayan to the site of Grand Canyon Lodge.

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My first order of business, after looking around the Lodge for a bit, was a walk out to Bright Angel Point. As today was one of the most gorgeous Sundays in quite a while, there were dozens of people, of all ages, walking about or at least lounging on the Lodge’s patio, which also offers views of the canyon below.

Here are a few of those scenes available to the sedentary.

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I then availed myself of a couple of overlooks, close to the Lodge.

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Bright Angel Point involves a fairly strenuous hike, mainly due to the elevation. Those with pulmonary issues do best to stick to the Lodge area. An intrepid woman using trekking poles made it half-way, before concluding it would be a mistake to continue. There were several of us late middle-agers who made the walk, though, along with folks as young as five.

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It was at the above guard fence that a little girl wanted to climb up, for “a better view”. You’d best believe her mother’s hands were firmly on her, for that exercise in bravery!

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The various striations in the sandstone clearly show the levels it has taken, to build this most magnificent of geologic records.

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In the next post, Point Imperial and Cape Royal offer a northeastern perspective of the Canyon’s wonders.

The Peak of the Canyon- Part I

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on October 10, 2019 in distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

October 6, 2019, Jacob Lake, AZ-

Sitting at the counter of the restaurant, in this gateway community to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, I enjoyed a sandwich of “Leftover Jalapeno Meatloaf”-(a tongue-in-cheek expression, as the dish was freshly prepared) and bantered a bit with a somewhat surly young man, who definitely wished I wasn’t there. Once he left, the waitresses seemed to relax and there was a light-hearted rest of my visit. The food was very good.

It had been that kind of day, a blend of dealing with surly people and those who relaxed when the angry ones left. A screaming woman, berating the disabled manager of the motel where I had stayed in Flagstaff, last night was replaced in my view by his head housekeeper, who helped the poor soul get his bearings.

This evening, just before sunset, I was being tailgated, at ten miles over the speed limit, on the narrow road leading to Cape Royal, where I was heading to take a photo of the sunset. Turns out, the motorist with a hair-trigger temper was also heading to the Cape, to take a professional photo or two. Once we got there, and he realized there was still time for his shoot, all was well.

In between, there were genuine moments of peace: A crew of high school soccer players washed my car, as part of their fundraiser. Then, it was off towards the North Rim, via a trio of scenic wonders, majestic in their own right.

Here are a few scenes of Marble Canyon, where I walked around Navajo Bridge, a New Deal project which replaced the ferry across the Colorado River.

Above, is Navajo Bridge, now a pedestrian walkway between Marble Canyon Lodge and a Navajo Artists’ Market. Below, is the Colorado River.

After a Thor Burger, at Marble Canyon Cafe-and pleasant conversations with the mostly Dineh staff, I headed up the road a bit, to Cliff Dwellers, also mainly a place for Navajo jewelry to be sold. It does have an astonishing series of boulders and rock formations, near what once was a settlement of Fremont people, who were mainly hunter-gatherers.

Vermillion Cliffs came next. There are an unusually high number of retired people traveling, this time of year. The warm weather has helped, as has the political tension in the country, which leads people to seek an outlet. We know that travel is one of the best outlets for relieving tension. There was certainly a time in my life, when that was so. Vermillion Cliffs is one of the most popular areas for many seniors to visit. A Road Scholars bus had just left the area, as I pulled in.

Here are some views of the cliffs and of a canyon that has been cut by the Paria River.

This sandstone spire reminded me a bit of Spider Rock-or maybe Darth Vader.

All of this set the stage for my second-ever visit to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, as an homage to the national park’s centenary. Having visited the South Rim in April, it was an equal time matter.

The aspens and oaks are turning colour, so the approach to the Rim, itself, was a treat. The area had been populated mostly with Ponderosa pine, but a fire in 2000 created a swath, into which aspen trees have taken root.

It was now time to take a look at the highest points of the Grand Canyon.

Goosenecks

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on October 8, 2019 in Hiking and Nature, Spiritual, Striving

October 8, 2019, Blanding, UT-

Last Saturday, evening, I watched an improvisational dance performance, called “River of Stars”. The performance, by Human Nature Dance Troupe, of Flagstaff, came to mind again last night, as I chose to sleep under the stars, at Goosenecks State Park, near Mexican Hat, Utah.

Two rivers, one above, the other below,

give me solace.

The San Juan snakes around,

a series of limestone formations,

giving the impression

of goose’s necks.

It is a serene, sacred spot,

and I lie in a sleeping bag,

insulated from the cold,

whilst gazing up into

the river above,

a true River of Stars.

Constellations,

known to me

since my youth,

present themselves

as a constant flow.

The Moon is between us,

and the audible drone

of an occasional airplane

challenges my eyes

to find it,

among the shimmering

islets

in the celestial river.

North Rim

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on October 7, 2019 in Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Travel

October 7, 2019, Kanab-

I will, as usual, post photographic accounts of my current jaunt, once back at Home Base. In the meantime, here’s a verse on the topic.

Serene, confident teenager

stretched herself out

and took in the view,

of the gaping maw below.

Mother’s watchful gaze notwithstanding,

the girl took pains to keep herself safe,

as a much younger child,

asked her mommy,

“Can I do that, too?”

“Maybe, when you get

to be that big.”

The North Rim,

eight thousand,

three hundred feet

above the Colorado River,

at Bright Angel Point,

is not for those

with acrophobia,

or shortness of breath.

I promised my late

maternal grandfather,

spiritually,

that I would not

entertain the former,

and, as yet,

I do not suffer,

from the latter.

So, down the narrow trail,

I went,

and gazed over the edge,

at Bright Angel Point,

again at Point Imperial,

and, lastly,

at Cape Royal.

where two dozen of us,

watched the sun dip,

below the horizon,

accenting the smoke

from a prescribed burn.

Heaven’s Rain

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on September 23, 2019 in Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Poetry, Uncategorized

September 23, 2019-

A Tropical Depression arrived today.

It’s been named Maria.

I know a few women by that name.

None of them are depressing.

This Maria brought some rain to us,

and is hinting at more.

Any rain in an arid environment

is Heaven’s rain.

It is beloved by the living, sentient beings,

by the cacti, succulents and trees,

by the rocks,

and even by the sand,

as it, too, likes a departure

from the sameness

of each day’s scorching Sun.

We, the stewards,

treasure this falling sustenance.

As it happens, I spy the figure

of a mouse,

looking down from its perch

among the clouds,

confident that the gift

of the storm,

on which it rides,

will sate the collective thirst

of us below,

if only for a day,

or three.

The storm knows

that some are inconvenienced,

by the floods it has brought.

It knows, too,

that some of these beings,

may do the same things,

the next time a storm

brings the gift of sustenance.

Not all, but some.

Heaven will send its rain,

nevertheless.

Back Along A Golden Road

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on August 4, 2019 in Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Slow Food, Social, Travel

July 17-18, 2019-

It had been three years, since I was last in Colorado. In the words of a waitress at one of my favoured spots, Del’s Diner, in Fort Garland, “That’s just too long!” Del’s had been a bit of a dive, but had remodeled and was doing just fine. The food was every bit as good as I remember.

U.S. 160 is one of those roads that make me feel at home, regardless of where I am, along its passage. The same thing is true of Old 66; Highway 1, along the Pacific Coast; U. S. 30, through the Midwest,; and MOST of U.S. 1.

So, I took the road, from Ulysses, Kansas to its western terminus, in Tuba City, AZ. A side hop was necessary, for me to take in Sand Creek National Monument. From La Junta, though, I zipped down to Trinidad, then back up I-25 to Walsenburg, from which I could re-visit my favourite part of 160: Colorado’s southern tier. Thus came dinner at Del’s and a long search for a place to stay that wouldn’t mean my budget would need a budget. Colorado seems to be even more popular than usual, this summer. That does my heart good.

The Spanish Peaks are a fine greeter, just east of Walsenburg.

The San Juan Mountains, between Del Norte and Pagosa Springs, are a reminder that snow regards the Rocky Mountain State as its summer home. (I’ve been in Colorado, at some point, each month of the year, and seen it snow, each and every month.)

I stopped briefly in South Park, just west of the formidable Wolf Creek Pass, and found a Cal King was the only bed available. Since I’m not part of a package deal, up and over the Pass I went. Going through the pricey resorts of Pagosa Springs and Durango, the night drive came to an end at Mesa Verde Motel, Mancos. There, I was generously offered a room at discount. It is a “dog room”, the owners being pet lovers, but there was no sign of dog hair anywhere in the room. Mesa Verde’s owners are just gentle, laid back people, and I recommend the place for anyone finding themselves tired and on the west side of heaven.

The home stretch began with a stop at Mc Elmo Creek Flume, an irrigation channel, built in 1921.

Seeking to stretch my legs a bit, before lunch, I walked around the City Park, in downtown Cortez. A laid-back Ute gent, seeking to impress some ladies in his company, started to mock me, while I was walking up the hill. When that had no effect, he asked if i were a veteran. “Yes, I am, and you? ” “You know it, Bro….. Devil Dogs!” He had the tattoo of a Marine, and though I recall the name being used specifically for those in the Corps, who fought at Belleau Wood, during World War I, I gave him a pass on that. Everyone deserves a semblance of dignity and respect.

Lunch time was here. I sadly noted that my go-to place, Jack and Janelle’s, had gone belly up. A walk downtown showed that there was someplace fairly new: The Farm Bistro. I gave it a shot, and am glad of it. Alex and crew are spot-on, with great cuisine and set a spunky, welcoming ambiance. Each party selects a plastic animal for its table, as a cue to the server.

My visit to Cortez came to a close, and shortly, thereafter, I was back in Arizona. Along the drive down the Navajo Nation, I noted that two once grocery-deprived communities, Red Mesa and Dennehotso, now have local markets. One place that has nothing is Baby Rocks, yet this little village, east of Kayenta, could easily be the next big outdoors thing.

This little wonderland is close enough to tourist-mecca Monument Valley, that a Dineh entrepreneur could easily remove the “Best Kept Secret” label from Baby Rocks.

Going onward, for four more hours, I brought this phase of Summer, 2019, to a peaceful conclusion. Carson City, and my Nevada extended family, await next week, after a few days of meetings here at Home Base. My eyes and heart are always open, to what counts most in life: Love of humanity.

Father of Waters and His Diligent Children

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 30, 2019 in Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Social, Spiritual, Travel

July 14-15, 2019, Wapello, IA-

Almost as essential as a visit to the Baha’i House of Worship, when crossing the country, is some time spent in the vicinity of the Mississippi River. Its residents, whether north or south, have a temperament, a work ethic, and a resilience, all their own.

My meeting with a steadfast and inspiring friend lasted about forty-five minutes. Afterward, I prayed in the House of Worship for a half hour further, then made my way out of Chicagoland, stopping for lunch and to do laundry, in Bolingbrook, on the Metropolitan area’s southern edge. A horrific accident, coupled with ongoing roadwork, had left I-59 backed up, on the northbound side, for at least four miles. I would have felt fine, had we southbounders shared part of our road with our hapless fellow-travelers. The heat, this afternoon, was back, with a vengeance, after two days of fairly mild temperatures.

On we went, though, and my necessaries were done, after two hours. Bolingbrook is a cosmopolitan little place, the type in which I am quite comfortable. The genial, but imposing, laundromat manager kept order by circulating among the families, stopping to comfort a boy of about ten or eleven, who was crying after having somehow disappointed his mother. She wasn’t acting angry nor was she scolding him. It was just that love which a child has for a parent, in which feeling like the parent has been let down, is the worst feeling in the world. Mr. D. seemed to know this, and had the boy calmed down, by quietly getting to ht heart of the matter.

I stopped, briefly, in Peoria, to say prayers for the memory and soul’s progress of a native of that town, who had been a friend of ours in Dinetah, for several years. Nancy went back to Peoria for her final year or so, before passing on, earlier this year. The Clock Tower was about the only part of the River District that wasn’t blocked by construction, so it serves as a stand-in for the historic downtown area.

From Peoria, it was on to the Mississippi, in its northern segment. Crossing into Iowa, I found my first Riverside encounter in Bettendorf, the northwest quarter of the Quad Cities. (The other three being Moline and Rock Island, IL and Davenport, IA.)

The playground at Leach Park looks like it would engage a variety of child age groups.

Having had a childhood fascination with conical roofs, I would have gravitated towards that building, had it been in my local playground, way back when.

The Mississippi, though, remains the main draw.

This lodge-type structure is on Rock Island Arsenal, an island on the Illinois side, just west of the city of Rock Island. From the looks of things, it seems to have a role in flood control.

I was getting tired, as I passed through Davenport and Muscatine. When little Wapello appeared, I was grateful to see Roy-El Motel, just off the highway. As tourist traffic is light in these parts, the owners were glad to see me, too. This is a view of downtown Wapello. The town is named for a mild-mannered chief of the Meskwaki people, who led them to this area and enjoyed harmonious relations with the white settlers of the river front. I had a light breakfast at Chief Brew, where local farmers and retired folks gather, “three days a week, so we don’t get tired of one another.” The men were surprised to see someone from Arizona. I explained that I enjoy stopping along the River, to which one man said- “Bet you’d change your mind, after seeing one flood stage.”

There was no such deluge, this Monday morning, though.

The Father of Waters was enjoying his siesta. I headed on west, with the destination being Kansas City.

NEXT: Wilbert Harrison had it right.

The Joy In Wrigleyville

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 28, 2019 in Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Social, Travel

July 12, 2019, Chicago-

Being a lifelong Red Sox fan, I nonetheless, being a holistic thinker and inclusive by nature, I also have had a place in my heart for the Chicago Cubs. I was as happy when they won the World Series, as I was when my Home Team earned their title.

So, when Wrigley Hostel came up, as a place to spend a night in Chicago, I was ecstatic. As it happened, when Hostelworld bumped my reservation date back to June 12, I didn’t notice. I got here in mid-afternoon and was lucky that there was a spot available for tonight. From now on, I know I need to double check any reservations I make, using an online consortium.

At any rate, Wrigley Hostel, essentially one block east of the stadium, is a large and homey place, with plenty of room for about 60 people. My spot is in the room right next to the front desk, very close to the kitchen. The group of hostelers is relaxed, inclusive and fun-loving, as should be the case. The staff, save for one out-of-sorts desk clerk, is caring and friendly.

The kids went off to events like Taste of Chicago. I got my own Taste, at Shake Shack, south of here and equally close to Wrigley Field. There was a goodly crowd on Clark Avenue, as the game had let out, a few minutes earlier.

I feel fortunate to have two good shots of Wrigley.

After the very filling Chi-burger and mango shake, I took a stroll down to the edge of Lake Michigan. It’s always a soothing sight, especially from the serenity of Lincoln Park.

This expanse of greenery is a solace to many- from the water’s edge to Jarvis Bird Sanctuary, and, yes, to Lincoln Park Zoo. I spent about twenty minutes here, contemplating Chicago’s majestic side.

Along Addison Avenue, going back to the hostel, are several architectural gems.

I can’t look at a water tower in this city, without thinking of the Fire of 1871.

Conical roofs are appealing, both on apartment blocks and on churches.

I am just glad for one thing: I don’t have to drive in Wrigleyville as a daily routine. I think that would be way above my pay grade. It’ll be enough to navigate out of here, tomorrow morning.

Bastion of Honour

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 25, 2019 in Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Spiritual, Travel

July 9, 2019, West Point, NY-

My father, before his passing, expressed a desire to visit the United States Military Academy, at this wide spot on the west bank of the Hudson, 57 miles north of New York City. I don’t know if he ever made it there, but in case he hadn’t, I was determined to visit on both his behalf and as part of marking my own 50th anniversary of having joined the U.S. Army.

Unlike either of the still extant posts at which I served,West Point does allow visitors. The security check involves both a written document and a personal interview, lasting 3-5 minutes. Once those are accomplished, a visitor is given clearance to go to the Cemetery, to Trophy Point and, parking space available, to the fortress-like dormitories.

I set aside 3 hours, this afternoon, after being cleared by security, to look over the areas mentioned above. West Point, despite a handful of peccadilloes, over the years, remains largely a bastion of honour.

The Museum is the first place one sees, upon entering the Visitor Center parking lot. I save that great edifice for another time, preferring to get out and take in the out of doors sections of the Academy.

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From the edge of the parking lot, one may take in a serene view of the Hudson.

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On to the Visitor’s Center, with its display which depicts the quarters of a cadet, and of the cadet’s four years.

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The quarters are spartan.

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Once cleared by the dour and seemingly exhausted security officer, I drove to the Cemetery parking lot and took in a variety of mausoleums and tombs, reflecting our nation’s military heritage. Soldiers from George Armstrong Custer to William Westmoreland are laid to rest in these grounds.

Here is a montage of the statuary and resting places of West Point National Cemetery.

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The Old Cadet Chapel, seen below, was brought here to the Cemetery Gate, from its prior location near the dormitories.

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From here, I walked to Gees Point, from which one may take in more serene views of the majestic Hudson River.

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This Helipad is primarily for the use of dignitaries, coming and going.

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This small house invokes the gentler side of the Academy. It serves as an officer’s residence.

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This is one of two paths, from the Main Road to Eisenhower Hall, that are “Use at own risk”. I took the risk.

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Below is a view of the Catholic Chapel.

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The Gothic dormitories could only be photographed from a distance, this evening, due to a dearth of parking.

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The legendary football/soccer stadium stands next to the dorms.

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Finally, the statue of Tadeusz Kosciusko stands watch, gazing towards the Hudson.

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So ended my first visit to my former superiors’ alma mater.

The Bay State’s Sparkling Southwest

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 20, 2019 in Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Striving, Travel

July 3, 2019, Great Barrington-

In all the years I lived in the Bay State, even when I was in attendance at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, there were areas to which I never quite made it for a visit. One is the region of the Berkshire Hills that lies south of the Massachusetts Turnpike.

This morning, as I drove from Poughkeepsie, through Connecticut’s Taconic Hills and into the state of my birth, the opportunity to spend a bit of time in the southern Berkshires, entering at Sheffield and stopping for lunch at Egremont Market/Mom’s Cafe.

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I enjoyed half of my sandwich at a picnic table, outside by Hubbard Brook, which is hidden by a lush forest. The New England and Mid-Atlantic states have a fabulous forest cover, surprising to some-given the density of population between Boston and Richmond, or Charlotte, for that matter. I never once, growing up in the Boston area, felt at a loss, when I needed a forest break.

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As I was finishing my meal, a man who was through-hiking a section of the Appalachian Trail, that he had previously missed, sat briefly at the next table. As we conversed, he mentioned needing a ride to the Post Office in Great Barrington, the largest town in the southern Berkshires, so as to pick up his mail from General Delivery. Samuel seemed a pleasant sort, hailing from Houston, so I agreed to take him up to GB.

His tips could be useful, should I ever follow the long-distance hiking option, one of three post-retirement routes I’m considering. Certainly, a series of General Delivery boxes eliminates a major impediment to such travel.

After dropping Samuel off near the Post Office, I took a few minutes to pick up a replacement for an implement that had broken, earlier this journey, and took a few photos of Great Barrington’s downtown.

Here is St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church. Up the street, in the background, is First Congregational Church.

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First Congregational is better seen below.

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There is much that would lend itself to a longer stay in the southern Berkshires, but for now, I must head to the town of my childhood and youth. Besides, it’s hot and my passenger side window is not working right.

NEXT: Reflections on A Holiday Weekend, “Back Home”

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A Sagittarian Seeker

Sharing a life of inner and outer journeys

Category Archives: Hiking and Nature

The Peak of the Canyon-Part II

Goosenecks

Heaven’s Rain

Bastion of Honour

The Bay State’s Sparkling Southwest

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