The Sandcastle

Those of you who’ve been reading my blog for any length of time know I like my history simple and amusing. When entering a national park they offer you a map and a newspaper. I usually read both of those, watch any films they offer, then search out children’s books in the gift shop. Then we take any scenic drives on offer but I send Dave out with the camera at most of the stops. If the park has a lodge with a restaurant we often eat there. Then I’m done with that park except for looking at the pictures Dave took and, maybe, writing a blog about the park.

After awhile the parks all start to seem alike to me. At least the ones in Utah do. After all how many ways are there to see the Colorado Plateau?

Bryce Canyon found a new way. I don’t know who writes their descriptions but check out this one from their website, http://www.nps.gov/brca/index.htm. “What is Bryce Canyon? Words confound when no comparable exist. A cave without a ceiling? A forest of stone? Even ‘canyon’ is misleading since Bryce is carved by freeze-thaw cycles, not a river. Yet, ‘world’s largest pothole’ is neither adequate nor flattering.”

And this one from page 4 of their newspaper, “Approximately (~) 200 million years ago (Ma), Earth’s crust was crinkling throughout Nevada, into southern Canada. A strong, dense Pacific seafloor had smashed into North America’s weaker continental crust. Much was at stake as the loser would be forced down and melted in Earth’s mantle. Although North America remained on top, it was shattered in the contest.” You can read the entire article at http://www.nps.gov/brca/planyourvisit/upload/2010_Summer_Hoodoo-web.pdf.

That’s my kind of history.

Oh, yeah, here’s some pictures for those of you who feel deprived if I don’t include some.

No, we didn’t walk that trail. This is the park where my blister broke while still in the visitor center. Not that we would have walked that trail, anyway. High desert means no oxygen in the air, you know. Besides it was HOT! See, I have lots of excuses for not getting more exercise. Valid excuses. Right?

TTYL,

Linda

On the bottom of my right heel.

I didn’t feel the blister forming.

I didn’t feel it until it broke.

Then I felt it!

Walking became painful.

Now what?

Anyone for tiptoeing through the tulips?

Maybe we’ll go find a place we can hang out for a few days to give it a chance to heal.

Then I might catch up on the blogs of all the National Parks we’ve been visiting, hmmm?

TTYL,

Linda

I grew up in Illinois and Minnesota. We didn’t have mountain roads. My Mom moved to Denver and kept trying to get us to move, too.  I told her, “No. We would be divorced if we moved there because Dave loves to drive mountain roads and they terrify me so I’d never see him.”

Now we live in a motorhome driving all around the country. I can look at most maps and tell what roads I want to stay away from. Switchbacks are danger signs to me. Interstate roads through mountains are fine because they have wide lanes and shoulders. It’s those narrow lanes, winding back and forth, with steep grades, and drop off shoulders that get to me.

But some places you can only get to by driving mountain roads. The north rim of the Grand Canyon is one of them and Dave really wanted to go to the north rim. Here’s another song for you, “The things we do for love.”

The road to the north rim, US 89A in northern Arizona past Jacob’s Lake and Fredonia, Arizona, is a mountain road. I made Dave drive less than 25 miles an hour and I was still terrified. I HATE mountain roads! To borrow a really good word from Nick Russell (http://gypsyjournal.net/blog/): snivel, snivel. I wanted to curl up in bed and whimper until I went to sleep but I was too afraid to do that, either. In case you missed it–I HATE mountain roads!

Take me HOME!

TTYL,

Linda

What’s there to say? Big Canyon. Big Dam. Big Lake. Repeat.

TTYL,

Linda

When we were traveling in our tent camper and VW camper we were on vacation. We had two or three weeks to go someplace and come back again. We did all our research and some of our cooking before leaving home so we were free to see the sights along the way.

When we retired then started fulltiming we acted as if we were still on vacation. Scurrying from one site to another trying to see it all as if we would run out of time. But we hadn’t done all our researching and none of the cooking. We got tired.

The Escapees had warned us about this. They said it takes most people one to two years to get out of vacation mode. Well, it’s been almost two years and we appear to be transitioning to living mode.

We’ve slowed down. We stayed in Flagstaff, Arizona, for a week and a half. Then we moved here to Page, Arizona, and registered for three nights.

I’m still not caught up on my research and our attempts to cook in the convection oven have not been very successful. But, we now have time to read for pleasure. And I’m not so stressed out when we do start driving. And we’re enjoying the sightseeing more.

Last summer I was afraid if we stayed in Minnesota very long I wouldn’t get Dave out of there again. This summer I’m looking forward to staying a month or so.

I think we are maturing in this lifestyle in more ways than one.

TTYL,

Linda