Wetherill Mesa, on the west side of the park, is one of the more patience-building areas in our National Park system.  This is because it’s off-limits, much of the year, and is only open 6 hours a day, when it is accessible.

I recognize the reason- the narrow road, with sheer drop-offs in spots, would be horrific places to end one’s life.

Here are some scenes from this final stop on my earlier spiritual quest, on August 1.

This is in two parts.  First, from the gate to the trailhead for Step House, one of two preserved ruins at Wetherill.

A hawk graced the sky overhead, on that warm day.

Much of the area was ravaged by wild fire, in 2011.

Much of it is coming back, however.

There are a fair number of pictographs and petroglyphs, along the approach to Step House.

Next: Step House’s Preserved Ruins

This abandoned settlement, east of Mesa Verde, predates the larger sets of ruins by 300-500 years.  The settlement was built by people known these days only as “Ancient Puebloans”. They are regarded as the ancestors of those who built Mesa Verde and of the modern Zuni,  Keresan and Tewa peoples, of New Mexico.

Here are some scenes of the area, taken during a guided tour, on August 1.  All tours begin and end HERE.

Then, visitors pile into their vehicles and follow the guide, up the road.  Scenes like this may be had, from the upper parking lot, near the first ruins.

Here is an example of an unexcavated house site.

It was pretty hazy on that day, but one could get a sense of the ruggedness of this area.

Here’s a semi-excavated site. ^  Below, is a marker, used by the ancients, for astronomical positioning.

Here is one of the granite formations near the first set of dwellings.

Now, we are at the major set of structures, including the kivas and larger dwellings.

This limestone bench made for a good resting place, for some of the disabled members of our tour group.

This alcove, on the south side of the Great House, was intended to provide support for the structure.

Here are some shots of the Grand Kiva, the major ceremonial site in the complex.

These granite formations are among those which give Chimney Rock its name.

Once I had finished here, one more goal remained on this spiritual journey:  Wetherill Mesa.

Gloucester is a walking town, though if it hadn’t been, I’d have made it so.  As it is, Stacey Promenade, named for a local hero, guides one along the harbor beach.  South of the beach, Stage Fort Park has trails that wind around, the cliffs above Gloucester Harbor.

Here we go- scenes from the afternoon of September 4.

Meet Gloucester Harbor.

There are two stand-out statues along Stacy Esplanade.  The first is the Fishermen’s Memorial.

A shoutout is here, to George O. Stacy, for whom the Esplanade is named.

The second important statue commemorates the wives of fishermen.

Once the Esplanade ends, Lucy Brown Trail begins, and takes one into Stage Fort Park.

This remarkable cliffside path reminds me of Golden Gate Park, in San Francisco.

These cannonades are reminders of the War of 1812.

One may sit for hours here, and contemplate the sea.

Along any beach in New England, there are small forested islets.

Looking across Gloucester harbor, one sees abandoned factory buildings, where fish used to be processed.

Wind power is a growing focus, along the coast.

Kelp is a major product of the northeast coast.  Altogether now, “EEEWWW”! 😛  Seriously, tough, this product is great for pregnant women, seeking to keep their iron intake up.

There are stairs aplenty, for those needing aerobic exercise.

Octopus Head Rock sits atop an eastern cliff in Stage Fort.

I spotted the turret of Hammond Castle, across the way, on the far south side of Gloucester.

Atop Stage Fort Park, the Girls’ Track Team, from Gloucester High School, was having a practice.  Since I don’t photograph other people’s children, without their parents’ permission, my focus went to reminders of Gloucester’s place in Colonial America.

Gloucester, like most small towns, has a gazebo in its main park.

Finally, Stage Fort Park’s southwest corner has a statue of Triton, mythical son of Poseidon.

Next;  Gloucester, Part 3, the Interior of Downtown and the North Side.

The west side of Rockport has the village of Pigeon Cove, and Halibut Point State Park.  The latter gave me the first of two good hiking opportunities, on Sept. 3.  It offers clifftop to beach and quarryside walks.

Here are several views of the trail, the ocean, the quarry pond and the Visitor Center, at Halibut Point, followed by a shot or two of Pigeon Cove.  The first photo is of the old quarry master’s house, at Halibut Point.

Next, is a farm shed and well.

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Now, on down the trail to the seaside.

The above scenes evoke Bandon, OR and Kalalaoch, WA.

Cairn art, similar to this, is found on several New England beaches.

Now, for several views of the abandoned quarry, now a gorgeous little pond.

The last views at Halibut Point are of the watch tower.  An osprey graced the roof peak, as I walked around below.

Here is a range of  rock samples obtained from the quarry.

Lastly, here are the two most prominent structures in the village of Pigeon Cove. First is the community church, followed by a private home.

Next:  The first of three posts on Gloucester, MA

I last visited Cahokia Mounds National Monument in September, 2011, when it was dusk.  This time, July 25, 2013, it was a bright afternoon.  The difference was palpable.  At dusk, there is a sense of the spiritual, the ephemeral.  In bright sunshine, tour groups and easily-spooked people, jumping when I walked by them, were all over the park.

No matter, this area is home to intense spiritual energy, which not everyone can handle.  It was built by an ancient nation of traders, and appears to be an array of tumuli, burial mounds.  Overlooking the scene is Monks Mound, across the highway from the main park area.

I spent about 40 minutes in the Visitor Center.

A clockwise jaunt around the main park revealed several mounds.

It was soon time to mount the stairs to Monks Mound. Here, priests conducted observations of the sky and presided over ceremonies, relative to the solstices, equinoxes and phases of the moon.

There are some fine views of the surrounding countryside, including the city of St. Louis.

To the east, there is a  fence, built by the U.S. Army, during the Trail of Tears, in the 1830’s.

Finally, I visited Woodhenge, a mile west of Cahokia Mounds, and largely viewed as another place where the indigenous people could observe and measure celestial events.

With this important site being offered tribute in both light and darkness, I crossed the Father of Waters, to St. Louis, and the Gateway Arch.

Arkansas’ state capital has been in the forefront of a statewide effort, that started with Bill Clinton as Governor, and has continued through the Huckabee and Beebe administrations, to get the populace up and at ’em.  A good part of this effort, in the capital city, revolves around the Arkansas River, and the recreational opportunities it, and its banks, provide.

The focus is fitness, for one and all, starting with the children.  I saw people of all ages and ethnicities getting into the act.  Count Kasimir Pulaski, who aided in the first U.S. Army, is honoured here, well west of the first frontier of the United States.  Here are Pulaski Way and a bust of the Count.

The message is clear about fitness, from the outset of the trail system along the Arkansas.

There are some obstacles and sculptures along the way.

The river inspires both LR and the City of North Little Rock.

Kids have a high bar to reach, with grandpa getting to “relax’.  It wouldn’t be that way with my grandbabies.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

This includes shopping!  Here is River Market.

Yes, in Little Rock, life is getting increasingly sweet, with plenty of hard work being done.

Arkansas treated me nicely that day. I made it to Memphis, late at night, and would blaze to northwest Virginia the following night.  There was a deadline to meet.

On Monday, August 26, I started the day with a couple of hours at the fort which established to stop fighting between  the indigenous Osage people and the Cherokee, who had been pushed into the area, by the policies of President Andrew Jackson.  Thus, Fort Smith is indelibly associated with the Trail of Tears.

The place is named for one Col. Thomas A. Smith, who commanded the fort at its establishment.  Another person by that name was a friend of mine, who recently passed on, so it was poignant to read of Col. Smith’s efforts at peacekeeping.

Here are some views of the grounds of this national monument, and of the River Trail, which follows the Arkansas River, along its path through western Arkansas’ commercial center.

We start with the Courthouse and Jails of the fort, now a museum.

Here’s a view of one of the fortifications.

Now, here’s a look at where bad actors spent their time, courtesy of Judge Isaac Parker.

Here is a glimpse of Judge Parker’s dungeon,

and one of his courtroom.

The soldiers, then as now, had to parade in formation, before their superiors.

The remnants of the original Fort Smith may be seen here and there.

Here is the quartermaster’s store.

Then we come to the gallows.

The less said, the better about this place of ghoulish amusement.

My favourite section is the River Trail.  Oklahoma lies across the Arkansas River.

At the end of River Trail lies Fort Smith Train Station.

It does not take a train, though, to go the scant 17 miles to Van Buren, the next stop of mine on August 26.