The Home Base That Wasn’t

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June 25, 2019, Tryon, NC-

In the gloom of Spring, 2011, I was casting about in my mind, as to where I might plant myself.  At the time, I had one immediate goal:  To make my way to New Hampshire and attend the wedding of my sister’s youngest daughter- for whose happiness Penny and I had prayed for several years.  Other parts of life were in a state of suspension.  Though I worked the rest of the academic year, following Penny’s funeral and Aram’s life was slowly coming together, with the Navy on the horizon, I had ME to get settled.

Several locations presented themselves:  I could have relocated somewhere else in the metro Phoenix area, or somewhere else where I had family nearby.  Then, there were places with no family in the area.  One such place, to which I’d never been and of which I knew nothing, was Tryon.

I happened upon this town, whilst en route from Knoxville to Columbia.  It was dinner hour, so at long last, I left the highway and found a space for my car.  The place seemed magical.

It had been a fairly good day in Knoxville.  The East Side was hardly as intimidating as the earlier news reports had suggested.  There were troubled people in the room directly below me, but they kept their troubles to themselves and I had a good night’s rest.  A nice lunch, a workout at Planet Fitness and a car servicing at Big O all took place across town, and by early afternoon, I was back on the road.  If you’re ever in Knoxville and want a good, quick lunch, I recommend “Best Bagels in Town”- a small place, behind a Walgreen’s, just a couple of blocks north of Big O, at 120 S. Peters Road. I promised the owner I’d send a shout out, so here it is:  Best Bagels is true to its name.

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Back to Tryon: The downtown is compact, with a well-known equestrian resort a few miles further east.  I am more of a cozy downtown type, so while resorts are nice and all, give me a small coffee shop/cafe restaurant, any day.  One such place is Huckleberry’s.

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One of the recurring themes in my life is how much I want for the younger generations to realize their dreams, to succeed-often in spite of the powers that be “moving the goalposts” and recognizing when a young man or woman gets things right.

Georgia got it right, albeit being rather self-effacing and business-like. The sign that Huckleberry’s owner put on the wall says it best:

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Georgia did keep busy, though, greeting, seating and doing half the serving.  I’ll say it again and again:  We Boomers are in good hands,  as we hand off the baton.

Tryon has a thing for bears-and for its claim to fame:  Horses.  The first sight that greeted me, as I parked was a wooden bear.

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Horses adorn a couple of spots along Tryon’s two main streets.

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This multi-coloured horse is found near the Post Office.

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Any town which claims Nina Simone as a Native Daughter has my fullest admiration.  A consortium of artists is working to restore the home of her birth.

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I chose Prescott, AZ, of course, as my Home Base-largely because it was familiar and the family had property, for the first 3 years of my time there.  I will continue to call Prescott my Home Base, until we see where my little family settles, next year.  A place like Tryon would not necessarily be out of the question.

NEXT:  Fair Columbia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Choo Choo In This Gig

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June 24, 2019, Chattanooga-

I stopped here, “en route” from Crossville to Knoxville, as I have driven on through this fascinating city, several times, on the way to this or that appointment- when going from Atlanta to Nashville or Knoxville.  My idea was to visit at least one of Chattanooga’s Big Three:  Ruby Falls, Lookout Mountain Summit and Rock City. Ruby Falls got the nod, as it sits off by itself, whereas the other two are  closer together.  Of course, I could have walked the steps up to the Summit, after the two hours or so spent underground, but the heat was lingering-so, another time. Ruby Falls and Rock City are equally pricey-each is $21.95 for an adult; a package runs $43.50.  There is also the “obligatory” photograph, taken before one is allowed into the cave.  In the end, one can choose to purchase the photo ($40 per person/group) or, as I did, say “No thank you”.

The cave is privately-owned, thus the entrance fee.  It is, though, well worth the time and money, to see the deepest underground waterfall in North America.  ( I think VietNam has one that is actually deepest on the planet.)  Several tour options are available- I took the Classic Waterfall Tour, with a group of about twenty people.  Down we went, 26 floors, via elevator.

Here is some of what we saw, in Leo Lambert’s boyhood playground-which he later named for his wife, Ruby, after exploring professionally with a team of spelunkers.

Leo had to crawl, for seven hours, through places like this, to reach an area where he could actually stand.

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Crystal deposits added a magical sense to his meanderings. (The blue lighting, of course, was added by the family, later.)

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It looks like this stalactite is actually holding up the cave, but it just kept on going downward, until it met the ledge.

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Here is where Mr. Lambert was first able to stand up, after seven hours of crawling.  I don’t know as my circulation would allow for that.

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Below is one of the few formations which people are allowed to touch, and even sit.

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The Leaning Tower actually does resemble the landmark in Pisa, though it’s not subject to shifting ground.

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This looks like it came out of a pasta maker.

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Imagine tobacco, drying in the sun.

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This looks like a frozen waterfall, but it’s more mineral deposit.

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The Falls!

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It was for this, that the Lamberts opened the caverns to the public, in 1929- a year when Americans needed all the comfort they could get.  So this afternoon, 24 of us stood, 1,120 feet underground, and marveled at what nature has put together.  It’s not Niagara, but it’s subterranean.

This is one place that Chattanooga Choo Choo isn’t going.  Once off the mountain, though, I took an hour to check out downtown and get some fine ramen, with bubble tea on the side.

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SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESBack up to Knoxville it was, afterwards. I had seen a news report about a gas station robbery, on the east side, a day or so ago.  I ended up at a motel just down the street from that gas station.  No worries, though-people just did their own thing and left me alone, for a comfortable night’s sleep.

Life goes on.

NEXT:  The Little Town That Almost Became Home Base

 

 

Where Rock Got Its Groove On

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June 21, 2019, Crossville, TN-

No, this little city in east central Tennessee has its charms, but rock’s birthplace is not its claim to fame.  That, of course, is a claim to be made by Memphis.

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I visited Sun Studio, one of my “gap” goals from years past.  In the early 1950’s, one Sam Phillips, an eager young musical production visionary, began this studio, on a shoe string budget. He had an idea that Gospel, Country and Blues, when blended together, would produce an amazing new sound. Sam was all about music as a means of expressing personal emotional power and he wanted to hear some rawness in the voices of those he auditioned.

Elvis Presley, happening by from his hometown of Tupelo, MS, was NOT one of those voices, initially.  He crooned, stuck to a mellow vibe-and bored Sam Phillips to tears.  After several auditions, Elvis’ mood changed, he rocked on out with a tune and got Sam and his crew running into the sound room, to see what was happening.  The rest is musical history.  Other musical greats, among them Johnny Cash, Ike and Tina Turner, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Howlin’Wolf, BB King and Roy Orbison got their big breaks with Sam and Sun Studio.

Here is Elvis, visiting Sun whilst on leave from the Army, doing a set with three of his contemporaries.  This session became known as The Million Dollar Quartet.

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Below, our host, Lahna, is recounting one of many stories about Sam and his vision of musical fusion.  You can spot a photo of Sam Phillips on the lower right.

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Here are some promos for Howlin’Wolf and Ike Turner (before Tina).  Ike was the pianist on the first-ever Rock n’Roll tune:  “Rocket 88”.

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Fun fact: If Sam DIDN’T like a demo record, this is what happened to it. (See floor).

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He was all about the base.

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Marion MacInnes was Sam’s office manager, and his faithful right hand.  Is anyone familiar with the contraption on the left?

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Lahna is giving her wrap-up for the tour, in front of the sound room window.  Another fun fact:  Larry Mullen, Jr., of the band U2, donated a set of drums to Sun Studio-for display purposes.

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This was an awesome bit of musical history, made all the more enjoyable by a woman who clearly knows her rock stuff.

I took a bit of a ride eastward, well before actually leaving Memphis, and found La Ceiba, the area’s only Honduran restaurant.  Its forte seems to be seafood, yet I was in the mood for chicken.  I ordered the first item on the menu, which puzzled the hostess.  It turned out to be fairly recognizable:  Lightly battered fried chicken, apparently not the hostess’s favourite, but good-tasting, nonetheless.  I also found the chips and sauce, (not salsa), potentially addicting.  La Ceiba is well worth a try.

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A long drive around the fringe of Nashville ensued, as it was getting late and I wanted to get here to my friends’ house, before they needed to turn in.

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NEXT:  Reflections on Three Days By A Pond

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Wilson’s Creek

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June 20, 2019, Memphis-

I made it to the hostel here, three hours behind schedule- but the door remained accessible by code, so no worries there.

This morning, I met my cousin, Lisa, for breakfast and an hour’s catch-up on the year gone by.  Our old stand-by had closed, so she found a little place closer to her home, which worked even better.  We were about the only people here, save the waitress and the cook.

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I left Lisa, and the little village, intending to head for a friend’s place in Rolla, then down through the Ozarks and Delta, to the quiet bustle of Memphis.

Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield intervened.  This place is worth about two hours, for those whose education on the Civil War stopped with the Mississippi River at Vicksburg, if it even got that far.   Wilson’s Creek, MO was the second major battle of the conflict, after the First Battle of Manassas, or Bull Run.  It is instructive that the battle was technically won by the Confederate Army, yet at a cost which enervated the Rebels and drained critical resources.

Here are some scenes from this relatively under-visited national monument-about a dozen miles southwest of Springfield, MO.

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A young boy and his grandparents were in tandem with me, for the first two stops.  The child was quite well-versed in some of the basics of the conflict, which always does my heart good.  Those who don’t study history are those most likely to repeat it.

Like many battles in all three wars that have taken place on American soil, this one centered on farming areas, and took place largely in two cornfields.  The fencing below was intended to keep animals in.  The Confederates used it and the berm behind it, as cover.

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This area was farmed, and its corn milled, by John Gibson.  The two sides wisely steered clear of attacking the mill, knowing that they would likely need its resource, once THEY won.

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A lone sunflower, anywhere, is an anomaly; yet, here it is on the old Gibson farm.

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The family moved on to the Ray House, with me right behind them.

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This farmstead was used by the Confederates as a field hospital, with Mr. Ray and the Southern officers bringing in the body of Union General Nathaniel Lyon, the first General killed in the line of duty, during the Civil War.  His corpse lay in this bed, until it was peacefully transferred to Union hands.

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The Rays continued a modicum of life, during the military occupation of their farmstead. Mrs. Ray’s spinning wheel was in constant use.

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Imagine this passageway, crowded with wounded and the active soldiers. That was the case, on August 10, 1861 and for weeks afterward.

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Down Oak Hill from the house lies a spring house, the refrigerator of the mid-19th Century.

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From here, I had the rest of the Battlefield pretty much to myself.  Below is a view of Wilson’s Creek, as it may have appeared to CSA General Sterling Price and his regiment, at his headquarters here.  Today, a woman was cooling her horse in its serene waters.

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Here is a view of the slope of Oak Hill, also called ” Bloody Hill”, for the carnage that ensued here, when the Union troops emerged from the forest, with blood curdling yells, attacking Price’s Texans.

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My final stop at Wilson’s Creek was here, where it is seemly to pay respects to all those who were initially interred in mass graves, both in this spot and elsewhere in the area.

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We have not had such a devastating conflict since, as bad as the wars that have ensued subsequently have seemed to those who lived through them. More people died in combat, in the first year of the Civil War, than in the entirety of the Vietnam Conflict.

NEXT:  The Roots of Rock n’ Roll

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day of Rage and Remembrance

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June 19, 2019, Joplin MO-

The title refers to August 10, 1861, and I will elaborate, momentarily.  My Juneteenth began in Amarillo, with three surly drivers edging towards road rage, within a span of an hour.  The first one zipped around the corner and found me in his way, so the horn blew and the fist was pumpin’.  I got off the road and waited a bit.  Then there was the woman who was off-kilter because I went straight when there was no “left turn only” indicator.  Still no harm, no foul.  Finally, after my Planet Fitness workout, across town, I was screamed at, for driving across a parking lot and not stopping at each point where the road intersects with said lot.  This is, apparently, an Amarillo thing. (In Arizona, every parking lot intersection has a STOP sign. We must be spoiled.)

With all that, I left the city behind, and waltzed on over to Shamrock (See Ernest Tubb’s “Waltz Across Texas”).  There is a place there, called Big Vern’s Steak House.  Aram and I had lunch there, in 2011.  Vern no longer opens for lunch, so after looking around and asking the kind cross street neighbour as to whether Vern was okay (He is; he just opens for dinner only, is all.), I checked out a place called Rusty’s.  The perky owner told me she wouldn’t be open for another week or so, but if I went north a piece, I’d find a nice little place called Mesquite Canyon Steak House.  I did, and it filled the lunch bill nicely.

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Next to Rusty’s is  Spinning Jenny’s House of Music.  If I’d been in a better mood, I’d have popped on in there.  Rusty and Jenny are both pretty and vivacious ladies, with good product, so it’s likely I’ll stop in Shamrock, next time I’m in the area.

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I recall June 19 as Juneteenth, the day that Texas slaves received word of the Emancipation Proclamation:  June 19, 1865, when the Union forces landed in Galveston and spread the news.  This was 2 1/2 years after President Lincoln issued the Proclamation.  Today, many people are still not free of their own limiting mental chains.

“Waltz Across Texas” became “Zumba Across Oklahoma”, shortly thereafter.  I have a breakfast meet-up with one of my cousins, who lives near Joplin, early tomorrow morning.  So, there were no Sooners on my schedule, this leg of the trip.  I took the I-40 to 44 and onward straight-away, finding that the long-standing detour through the east side of Tulsa has been eliminated.  It’s all freeway, from Erick to Miami, so I found an hour had been shaved off the drive.  There was a minor rush hour jam, near downtown OKC, but that was all.

Once in Joplin, I found Motel 6 was reasonable, and that this franchise owner has a high-tech system, reminiscent of the European hotels I used, in 2014.  Keyless entry and paperless registration are here in the Heartland.

NEXT:  The Battle of Wilson’s Creek

Lighthouse, Shimmering In The Heat

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June 18, 2019, Amarillo-

I made it a point to stop here today, for two reasons.  One was my old Xanga buddy, Wes, and his ties to the Amarillo that was.  The other was Lighthouse Trail, in Palo Duro State Park.  I always meet the most delightful people, through both Wes and Palo Duro.  Today was no exception.

Texas Tidbits (Wes’ old Xanga moniker) suggested a meet-up at Smokey Joe’s, which I recall as a most delightful spot.  The cutest, and toughest, little lady was our server last time.  Her co-worker, J, was our gracious and ever-attentive hostess, on this fine afternoon.  We sat around for about an hour, while I savoured a Tex-Mex burger, and solved at least some of the issues that plague mankind.

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Now, I could sit in the presence of Wes and the ladies, for hours on end, but my hiking legs would not forgive me for such self-indulgence.  So, I bid pardner adieu and set off for Palo Duro.

Upon arrival, the lovely and friendly ranger pointed out that many folks had been their before me, snapping up all the campsites. No worries here, though.  The main point of my visit was that Light House in the desert, shimmering as it was, in the heat.  I brought enough water to fuel a truckload of cattle, and set off on the six-mile round trip.

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Capitol Peak and an unnamed “human” figure loom in the near distance, before the trail to Light House Rock veers to the right.

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Other magnificent formations grace the way to Light House.

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The first close-up view of the Light House formation, came as I reached the crest of the only real ascent of the hike.

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Here they are, one at a time.

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This shows the actual distance between the two rocks.

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As the first rumblings of a storm were heard, I took this last close-up.

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Whilst I was doing this, another man was contenting himself with climbing a path to the top of the rock on the left.  He spent several minutes there, fortunately getting down, as the skies darkened and racing up the path, to avoid the rain.

As I was walking back, I met a young couple with a dog, and pointed out to them that the storm was getting much closer.  They deiced to head back and stayed with me to the parking area.  E and M are a delightful pair, reminding me of my son and daughter-in-law.  We noted the lushness of the surrounding area, as a sign of the copious rain that the Panhandle has enjoyed this Spring.

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We got back to our cars, just as the rain was intensifying.  No sooner was everyone safely inside the vehicles, than hail started falling-furiously.   Yet, once we got to the park entrance:  Voila!  The sunshine returned.  With no camping site, I drove back to Amarillo, and have a room at Camelot Inn and Suites.

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Yes, another good day was had in the desert!

NEXT:  When Armies Wear Each Other Out

 

 

 

 

 

 

Duke City Redux

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June 17, 2019, Albuquerque-

This morning saw the last vestige of abdominal upset leave me.  Today would be a day for treading lightly and eating slowly.  It did not take long for the Elantra and me to get to Mother Road Hostel, though, and I was pleased to be able to get settled earlier than is the case in most hostels.  An early nap took care of what was left to be cured.

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I had hoped to get in a return visit to Blackbird Coffee House, in Old Town, but the parking situation is such that exact change is required for a space, and I’m still not one to offer $10, for a $5 fare.  I did get laundry done, across from Mother Road, ignoring a “plea” from a street person who said he needed coins to do his laundry, yet there was no sign of said laundry, as he stood in front of The Wash Tub.

Mother Road is a thoroughly relaxing place, convenient to both downtown and Old Town, though it was rather toasty today.  By evening, though, with laundry clean and put away, I ventured to the west side of Downtown, and enjoyed a lovely dinner of Minestrone Soup, Vortellini and sauteed vegetables, at Villa di Capo.  Being the days of the Senior Olympics, I was joined by many people my age and older.  This competition augurs well for those seeking a higher quality of life, as people age.  I personally did not take part in the events, but the examples of my contemporaries spurred me to plan a hike tomorrow, at Palo Duro Canyon, south of Amarillo.

Declining spumoni or tiramisu, I bid my gracious hosts farewell, and took a stroll around the Raynolds neighbourhood, taking in both architecture (lots of Art Deco, in downtown Albuquerque) and street murals.SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

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There is a pizzeria, two blocks west of Villa di Capo, which invites patrons with this sidewalk piece.

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Java Joe’s, closed for the evening, looks inviting, nonetheless.

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Raynolds’ residents seem to be quite active, in addressing the needs of their surrounding area.

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These three poles adorn a middle school playground.

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Finally, the full range of the neighbourhood’s vibe is shown here.

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Albuquerque was restorative to my health, and a confirmation that hostel life is most suitable to my mode of exploration.

NEXT:  A Spot of “Fun Zone” and A Lighthouse in the Desert

 

 

 

A Day for Setting Example

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June 16, 2019, Grants, NM-

I told myself that this summer, I would not zip through the astonishing red rocks and juniper of northern AZ and New Mexico, so today, I set a limit of the 62.4 miles that lie between Gallup and this old mining town, which is struggling to redefine itself.

I began Father’s Day, last night actually, with a roughly forty-minute conversation with my son and daughter-in-law, reassuring me that all is well with them, and vice versa.  This morning, a light breakfast of yogurt, from the grocery store across from Lariat Lodge, seemed quite sufficient.  Afterward, the first order of business was a visit to the lobby and garden of El Rancho Hotel, Gallup’s premier historical property and a favourite of many of Old Hollywood’s great figures- from James Stewart to Claude Akins.  Several photos line the wall of the second floor of the lobby.  Here is an introduction to El Rancho:

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SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESGallup has made itself a haven for Dineh, Zuni, Acoma and Apache artists looking to sell their crafts.  Armando Ortega and his family were among the first to offer marketing services to First Nations artists in the area.  The Ortegas have sponsored this alcove display, in the center of the first floor lobby.

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Even the outdoor benches are adorned with intricate design.

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From here, it was time to head towards the rocks, specifically El Malpais National Monument, just south of Grants. In 1985, Penny and I took two sons of a then-recently departed friend to this area, camping overnight at the privately-owned Bandera Volcano (extinct), as a respite for his widow.  In the years since, the road has been a shortcut, when I have driven between Phoenix and Albuquerque.

Today, it was my Father’s Day present to myself, to explore the eastern portion of the Monument, some forty miles past the volcano.  The sandstone formations near Zuni-Acoma Trail are as majestic as any in the southwest. Whilst taking in these marvels, I fixed and ate a sandwich. This would prove to be of dire consequence.

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After visiting the Ranger Station, I doubled back to Sandstone Bluffs Overlook.

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Although the storm clouds looked threatening, the rain held off until I was back in Grants.

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The series of holes, that are visible in the center of this frame, were actually bored by molten lava, during the last eruption of McCartys Crater, some 3000 years ago.  They are known, collectively, as Chain of Craters.

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Of more ancient vintage is Mt. Taylor, seen to the north.  It is one of the Four Sacred Peaks which are revered by several First Nations in the area. Mt. Taylor has been inactive for millions of years.

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Lichen have absorbed into the sandstone, over the centuries, giving some parts of Sandstone Bluffs the appearance of having been painted.

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Whilst sandstone is not slippery, its delicate nature means it can be broken easily, especially close its seams.  All walking on rock surfaces requires close attention to what lies underfoot.

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While heading towards La Ventana Natural Arch, I spotted this remnant of an early rancher’s attempt at settlement.

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La Ventana is a continuation of Cebolita Mesa’s exquisite base, which we saw earlier, near Zuni-Acoma Trailhead.  This is older sandstone than that at the Bluffs.  There were several other people here, including a grandfather, his son and three grandchildren.  Grandpa was teasing the two younger kids about jumping off the rock on which they had climbed.  Of course, he and Dad each helped the kids get off, but it was amusing to watch the little ones’ initial reaction of “AWWW, GRANDPA!!”

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This balancing rock evokes a visitor from another world.

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Here are two views of La Ventana, itself.

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A close look at this wall of Cebollita Mesa seems to show two faces. I am curious as to what you, the reader, sees here.

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The area west of Cebollita Mesa is covered with lava beds.  These range from just north of I-40 to the Lava Falls Area, thirty-six miles southward.  They extend, east to west, for about twenty-five miles.

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Once back in Grants, I was starting to feel a drag on my system.  Nonetheless, being Father’s Day, I was determined to get one good meal.  There being no locally-owned cafe open,near the Sands Motel (another Route 66 establishment registered as a National Historic Site), I chose the reliability of Denny’s.  The salmon and vegetables were very nicely done, as was the cup of soup.  I hydrated plentifully, as well.

Back in the motel room, I will only say that I dealt with my ailment as I had always taught my son to do- in  mature and responsible manner. I felt much better afterwards and Father’s Day was only mildly interrupted.  I had maintained my example, though, even if no one was around to notice.  That is what the day really signifies.

NEXT:  A Return to the Duke City

 

The Treasure Road

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June 15, 2019, Gallup-

The fine thing about a diverse landscape such as that of the Navajo Nation is that one can experience five forms of weather, as well as of scenery, in the span of thirty minutes.

I left Canyon de Chelly around noon, heading for the small college town of Tsaile.  This is the site of the main campus of Dine College, the Dineh’s highest resident institution of learning.  It offers eight Baccalaureate programs and is led by Dr. Charles Roessel, a member of one of the area’s most distinguished educational families.

The place today, though, was the realm of crickets.  Being a Saturday, in summer session, everyone except a lone security guard seemed to be elsewhere. Here are a couple of scenes of that splendid silence. First, the Library.

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The centerpiece sculpture is of life-sustaining maize.

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There are two mountain ranges in this part of the Dineh Nation. Here is a view of the Lukachukai Range.

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As I left Tsaile, the road led to its sister village:  Wheatfields.  The two share a single Chapter, in terms of jurisdiction.  Wheatfields is home to one of the Navajo Nation’s most popular recreation sites:  Wheatfields Lake.  Along the way, there are the buttes and peaks of the southern flank of the Lukachukai Range and the norther flank of the Chuskas.  Below, is a view of Tsaile Butte.

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Here is  a  view of Wheatfields Lake.  It was crowded with fisherfolk and water’s edge vacationers.  Unseen here, a storm front was approaching from the west.

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The road next led through a small sliver of New Mexico.  The two Chapters, Crystal and Red Mesa, were significant to Penny and me, as a vibrant and forward-looking family of Baha’is had branches in each community, in the 1980’s and ’90’s.  I fondly remember the Coes, their bread truck office and its early-model Word Processor; then, there were their elders, the Belshaws, with a wealth of natural foods knowledge and holistic health tips.

Here is Red Mesa, near the village of Navajo, NM (Red Mesa Chapter).

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The Treasure Road (my term) comes to an end in Window Rock, the administrative seat of the Navajo Nation.  A serene park encompasses the town’s namesake.

Here are some views of this unique red sandstone promontory, with its signatory arch.

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The park also feature a memorial to the Navajo Code Talkers, whose service during World War II was instrumental in the U. S. defeat of the Japanese Imperial Forces.  The Navajo contingent was the largest of several groups of Native American teams, who used their languages to convey information in a way that would not be decipherable by the enemy.  There are five living Navajo Code Talkers, as of this writing.

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With this, I headed to Native American Baha’i Institute, briefly saying a round of prayers and careful not to disturb several work projects, then headed here, to this bustling community that lies in the midst of the Navajo Nation.  It was time to sleep, at the Lariat Motel.

NEXT:  A Checkered Father’s Day

Canyon de Chelly: The View From the Top

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June 15, 2019, Chinle-

Many people, when comparing Arizona’s myriad of canyons, prefer smaller ones. Canyon de Chelly (pronounced SHAY), high on the eastern edge of the Colorado Plateau, has its thousands of afficionados.  It was one of the alternatives to the Grand Canyon, for Dineh people seeking to hide from Kit Carson’s forces, during the run-up to the Long Walk.

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Today, the place is, reasonably, packed with visitors of all ages- taking jeep tours, riding horseback, walking with authorized Dineh guides, or on their own (along White House Trail, which will be the subject of the next post).  Some are happy with viewing the magnificence from rim overlooks.  Still others are okay with just camping, at the NPS-run Cottonwood, or at the privately-owned Spider Rock Campground. Then, there is the chill-out crowd, hanging out at Thunderbird Lodge.

My focus was two-fold: Take in the South Rim overlooks, camp at Cottonwood, then hike White House Trail and end with the North Rim viewpoints.  That worked well, and so-here are views from each of the overlooks, beginning with Tunnel Canyon and ending with Mummy Cave.

Tunnel Canyon Overlook:

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Tsegi Overlook:  (Tsegi is Dineh for “canyon”)

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Junction Overlook: (Canyon de Chelly {South} and Canyon del Muerto {North} converge here.)

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The overlook, and other highlights, of White House Trail, will be featured in the next post.

Sliding House Overlook:

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Face Rock Overlook:SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Spider Rock Overlook:

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Now, from the North Rim, here’s a view from Antelope House Overlook: (This ruin may only be viewed up close, if one is accompanied by a registered Navajo guide.)

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Massacre Cave Overlook:  (The cave itself was the scene of a wanton slaughter of Dineh women and children, by Spanish soldiers, in 1805.)

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Mummy Cave Overlook: (This also accessible only on a guided tour.  Mummy Cave is the largest Ancient Puebloan ruin in Canyon de Chelly National Monument.)

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So, as you can see, there is a wide variety of learning activities at Canyon de Chelly National Monument.  An old favourite hike, White House Ruins Trail, is among them and is the subject of the next post.