ROAD TRIP Travel notes

Road trip picture gallery

Those of you getting the emails may have read most of this via Jeanne's daily log.

Day 1 - We just had to get out of dodge and get this boat on the road - we took WAY to long to pack the car and prep ourselves for the spontaneous road trip. Just before we were to leave, the DC to AC power converter fried (I think the input voltage dropped too low) - this meant the Laptop would have to run on it's own batteries for the length of the drive, and they weren't fully charged - oh well...we finally hit the road at about 3:00 (pm).

This first leg of the journey wasn't going to break new ground for us but it gave us a good opportunity to shake down the "packing scheme" for the car AND our new GPS / road map tracking system. Jeanne really enjoyed exploring route alternatives and acting as navigator.  It's pretty cool to see your speed and ETA updated in real time. An interesting note, the GPS and the speedometer start to go out of sync at higher speeds (75 to 80), where the GPS said we were traveling faster then the speedometer. I wonder which is correct?

Anyway on the first day we ended up in Buttonwillow, CA (whoopee).  

For random reasons unknown, we elected to stay at a Motel 6.  What the hell was Tom Bodette thinking? It probably would be better if they DIDN'T "leave the light on." This place was one step above sleeping in the car, ok maybe 2 steps. Tomorrow we head out for Flagstaff!

Day 2 - After a brief stop at a CompUSA in Bakersfield (to pick up a new DC->AC converter) we fired up the chariot and headed east.  We drove through the Tehachapi Pass, where there was snow covering the mountainsides. In case you were not aware, Tehachapi is the self-proclaimed Wind Energy Capitol of the World. I have never seen so many windmills in one place in my life; more than the cluster on I5. 

There was a big storm over the mountains, and it was eerie to see the windmills, ghostlike, disappearing into the white/grey expanse of the sky above.

Then, just an hour or so later, we were in the Mojave desert, where there was no snow, and it was actually almost balmy in comparison. The cacti look to be in bloom, and yellow wildflowers lined the highway.

And the rock formations were truly awe-inspiring. There was one formation that looked like an impressionist's painting of a red castle.

There was snow on the ground in Flagstaff! We stayed at the Hilton Garden Inn (where I am sitting at a desk, writing to you). It's a far cry from the Motel 6 in which we stayed at Buttonwillow. We most likely will not do that again!

This room is so strangely familiar, because Jamie, Kevin and I worked on that Franchisee CD for Hilton Corporation. All the furniture is covered in the fabrics that were such a pain to create, and the room looks just like the ones on the CD.

After seeing reports about the Space Shuttle needing a place to land, NASA reported that White Sands was an option! So we debated if we should scrap Albuquerque to try and make it to White Sands in time to see the shuttle land. BUT -- there is no guarantee it will be landing there.

What should we do?

Well, is it on to Albuquerque or White Sands? We will check with Nasa again to see if any decision has been made, and then decide...

Onward!

Day 3 - Well, as everyone now knows, the shuttle landed at Edwards in California. We looked at the latest updates from NASA and decided that even if they did land in White Sands, NM, we would not make it there in time to see the landing, so that made the decision an easy one.

On our way, we took a side trip to Meteor Crater in Arizona. Meteor Crater was formed when (you guessed it) a meteor collided with Earth. It is truly awesome -- even after 50,000 years, it is 4,100 feet in diameter and 575 feet deep and about three miles in circumference. A lot of studies were done there, silica was mined, and the astronauts were trained there as well. It was fascinating.

We left the crater and got back on Route 40, heading east to Albuquerque. Soon, we began to see signs advertising the "Dinosaur Park -- a MUST SEE!" These signs were downright hokey; a large, very green dinosaur, and what looked like almost hand lettered words. Soon, other signs appeared advertising a a petrified wood forest and a "museum" at the park. Jamie said, "I wanna go to the Dinosaur Park!" (who needs kids?) and me, I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh, all right."

Soon, we came upon a large and very green dinosaur behind a fence at the side of the road, with kids climbing on it and posing for their doting parents, who were busy taking pictures (oh, boy!). We took the exit for the park, drove up to the gate post, and a smiling older gentleman took our $5.00, told us about the "amazing museum" and the road we could take through the petrified forest.

He LOVED Schwa. For those of you who don't know, "Schwa" is the sculpture Laurel Roth made of an alien (he's been seen at Burning Man) -- he is in the back seat and along for the ride. Schwa is about three feet tall, ghostly white (and glows in the dark) with the requisite big head and large almond-shaped eyes. He is smoking a cigar and is holding a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.

We drove along a road that had giant logs (in pieces, but you could tell that they mostly came from the same trees) until there was a place to pull over. We got out and wandered around, gazing at these ancient trees that were now made of rock.

They were multi-hued; reds, greens, yellows, pinks, oranges... some were translucent in places. They reminded me of the pebbles at Ft. Cronkite beach. Amazing.

Then we followed the road, looping around to the museum and the large yard where they sell petrified wood (and geodes, and slag glass) by the pound. We passed a couple of the odd dinosaurs along the way. We examined the wares that were for sale, and the man who was working the rock yard spoke with us for a few minutes. We mentioned that we had not been in the museum yet, and he seemed surprised. He said that one could spend hours in that museum, that it was established by "three rich guys, millionaires!" who knew that when they died, their children would sell their priceless collections of artifacts piecemeal for the money. So, they established the museum, and a trust, so that their collections remained intact.

Well, now I was actually intrigued. And we walked into that museum ("The Museum of the Americas") and were STUNNED by what was hidden there, on a dusty side road of off Route 40. 

Probably one of the finest and largest collections of fossils, dinosaur bones, native American and Mayan jugs, bowls, figurines, tomahawks, arrowheads, knuckle weapons, knives, fetishes... and to top it off, an authentic, 1000 year-old Anasazi hut (I kid you not!) that was painstakingly removed from a site miles away and reconstructed in the middle of the museum.

The larger dinosaur bones were bigger than me, and were out in the open! You were allowed to touch them! I am not aware of another museum where this is possible with real dinosaur bones.

The artifacts were so numerous as to be overwhelming. Much detail was given regarding what people made them, and to what century they belonged. The oldest artifact was from 250 BC.

What an amazing surprise this was.

Before we left, the older gentleman asked me, "Hey, ya wanna switch the yard guy for the alien and take him with ya? I don't think anyone would know the difference!"

Well, I've waxed poetic for too long now. We will be staying in Albuquerque for at least two days, and will hopefully have some kind of air adventure. Either Ultralight flight, or, maybe... jump out of an airplane. With a parachute.

Yikes.

Day 4

Still in Albuquerque, NM. We ventured forth on foot to Old Town, which is three long city blocks from where we were staying. It's very picturesque; winding alleys, old southwest architecture, a sizeable town square, complete with Gazebo. There were tons of galleries, jewelry shops and tourist traps. So much that we ended up in sensory overload. There were some beautiful things to see, but most shops had them carefully hidden amongst the average or junky.

One gallery in particular had some good watercolors and small stained copper statues or totems. Another had museum-quality artifacts that were priced accordingly.

In addition to the shops, there were people sitting along the street selling handmade jewelry. Many had a six foot square area packed with their stuff arranged with jeweler-like precision. It made you think about how many thousands of hours of labor were represented by these displays. It was rather overwhelming.

We decided to look at jewelry again later in the trip, as we were at that point intimidated by the abundance.

That night, we decided to explore part of the old Route 66 (AKA "Main Street, USA"). After a few confusing detours, we ended up at the restaurant that was our eventual destination "The Artichoke Cafe." It was there that we had our best meal so far, and certainly one of the best of our lives. This restaurant is listed in Frommer's Guide and in AAA's book, where it earned only three diamonds (we think it should have ranked four, based solely on the food.)

Jamie started with a "Fat Tire" beer, and I had a lovely Pinot Grigio. We selected the House Smoked Salmon appetizer, which included a soft goat cheese with chives, a roasted garlic pate, and some kind of potato-like chips to spread the stuff on. Next came a delicious Caesar salad (really good, Pop). The dressing was lemony and garlicky, with just the right amount of anchovies.

I had pumpkin ravioli stuffed with spinach and ricotta in a slightly browned butter sauce with browned fresh tomato slices, carmelized onions and basil leaves. It was just awesome. Jamie had roasted chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and spinach. For desert, I had the best creme brulee I have ever had. Sublime.

Well, now I am embarrassed -- I've written more about that meal than anything else from that day. Suffice it to say that The Artichoke Cafe is highly recommended, should you ever find yourself in Albuquerque.

Day 5

On to Roswell! We drove for three hours, nearly two of which seemed to be on the straightest road in the world -- whenever we saw a bend in the road, we got all excited (why did they put that bend there? What might be around it?)

As Jamie says, it was the longest stretch of just about nothing that we have driven through so far. Just silver-gold ground cover with deep green scrub brush, or the occasional small, scruffy tree. Patches of snow most of the way, despite the fact that we were in the high desert, and the temperature must have been in the high 60's.

 We drove through a couple of small villages that were nearly ghost-towns. A majority of the buildings in these towns were derelict. They advertised services no longer available and were evidence of previous prosperity. What happened to these towns? What work did the people do who still lived there?

Entering Roswell was uneventful, except that Schwa, Jamie and I were excited! We checked in to the hotel (Best Western Sally Port Inn) and got a suite (cheap!). We headed out for lunch and ate at a place called Peppers. The less said about it the better.

Next, we headed for the Roswell Museum and Art Center, where there is a wing dedicated to Robert Goddard's pioneering work in rocketry. It was fascinating; to Jamie's delight, they had his workshop set up there. Old workbenches, tool chests with his labels still on each drawer, all the machinery he used to craft the rockets, etc. There were several glassed-in displays with pieces of the rockets, the different engines that he created, and explanations of his theories. Also, there were several other of his inventions, complete with copies of the patents for them. He was a very creative man. The rest of the museum was also interesting; several displays of Indian dress, artifacts, etc. Also, a huge weapons display, and clothing worn by the settlers, the army, cowboys, martials, etc.

In addition, there were many paintings and sculptures. An original Georgia O'Keefe (the skull of a steer (?) and two leaves -- it was beautifully done), and several Wyeth (I cannot remember her first name right now) paintings and her husband Peter Hurd's work -- their work is really gorgeous. There was also a collection of more modern art. Jamie will probably be posting some shots of the museum later.

And then to the Ridiculous Dinner at the Best Western Sally Port Inn.

There were a series of disappointments as the day wore on about this inn. First; we are on the second floor, and there is no elevator. Of course, we have TONS of stuff we simply must have in the room, so that was a chore. Next; the swimming pool and whirlpool are closed for painting! Then; lunch was not to be had at the hotel (hence the trip to Peppers, the less said of which, the better, as noted above).

So, we walk down to the restaurant, and on the way we can tell something BIG is going on somewhere near the restaurant. The amplified voice of an announcer can be heard. We look into the restaurant, and it is nearly empty (not a good sign), but the bar is hopping.

We are seated in a booth, and as we are perusing the menu we hear some poor guy trying to sing his way out of a paper bag; guess what? It is KAREOKE NIGHT at the Best Western Sally Port Inn!

>> We interrupt this email for an important announcement Our hotel window was just hit, full force, by a golf ball! (Nothing broken, but it sure woke me up!) In case I didn't mention it, our window faces the local golf course! Signs posted in the parking lot relieve the Sally Port Inn of any responsibility for damages by golf balls. <<

Back to Kareoke night. Our waiter sort of apologizes for the racket, "It's every Thursday night," and takes our order. Steaks, salad bar. There was no lettuce at the salad bar (which was remedied) and little bowls up-ended in the vegetable containers (which I finally figured out was done so that they did not have to fill the deep containers with veggies, but which made the few remaining vegetables difficult to retrieve). Our steaks came, nearly raw, and Jamie asked for his to be cooked more. It came back nearly rare... we gave up on that. Mine was more than half fat.

All the while, from the bar came the amplified voices of various (probably drunken) would-be performers singing old Motown ("Let's Get It On"), the Eurythmics ("Sweet Dreams"), U2, Dan Fogelberg ? ("Stronger Than..."). Well, they tried real hard and got lots of applause. God, it was funny.

After dinner, we took a drive down Main Street (SR 285). Suddenly, the fog closed in a bit and the windshield needing wiping as an eerie glow appeared on the horizon... a series of moving lights in an elliptical form swept the side of the Bank of America building. What was that!? It appeared again. Could it be? As we got closer, we could see that it was a light show set up on the roof of "Fat Dog Music and Lights." How cute.

As we got further along, the street lamps started glowing greener, and Schwa eyes were painted on many of them. We saw the UFO museum, which appears to be housed in an old movie theatre. Drove around for a while and then headed back to the suite.

Today, we are going to that UFO museum.

Should be fascinating. And even though we have located some prime areas for launching Jamie's Vidroc (his invention a rocket that carries a video camera that records the flight), the window for a launch today doesn't look good due to weather conditions -- foggy and windy. Darn.

Onward!

Day 6 - Schwa meets a(n) historic figure

There is a lot to tell, but I am changing my style to the "Reader's Digest Condensed Books" method. No more blow by blow of meals, I promise! The following covers three days.

What a reception we received at the UFO Museum and Research Center!

As if pre-arranged, there was a parking space for us right in front of the Museum! We unbuckled Schwa from the backseat, and he indicated that he wished to be posed in front of the Museum, right by the neon sign. As we were setting up the shot, one of the Museum workers (an older woman) came out the side exit and exclaimed at the site of Schwa. "He's so cute!" she cried, and summoned another worker to come and take a peek. We rolled tape and got the shot.

As we entered the building, Schwa spotted one of his cousins at the front door, and posed for another shot. Soon, we were surrounded by several patrons and workers who oohed and aahed over Schwa, asking questions and commenting that they didn't know that the "Grays" drank Pabst and smoked.

Soon we were speaking with a very tall, distinguished (and familiar-looking) gentleman who appeared to be in his late 70's or maybe early 80's, who'd been posing for pictures with some of the museum visitors. He made jokes about Schwa's drinking, and mentioned to me that beer was dangerous for the aliens, but perhaps it would be alright if we gave him bourbon. We talked about how Schwa was constructed, and the fact that he glowed in the dark. The gentleman said, "Hey, that's what I'm known for!"

This man was charming and after we explained where Schwa really came from, and what we were doing there, he started talking about himself. Casually, he said, "I was the Public Relations Officer at the Roswell Army Airfield in 1947, and wrote the original press release about the 1947 incident."

I surreptitiously looked at a name tag I had noticed on his shirt pocket... We were speaking with Lt. Walter G. Haut, who, at the direction of his CO, Colonel William Blanchard, wrote and distributed the infamous Press Release (later rescinded by the Army-- he was directed to write another relating the weather balloon story) that told the world the US Army was in possession of an alien spacecraft! I had seen his picture during my travels on the Internet, which explained why he looked so familiar.

By now, we were surrounded by museum workers and other folks. One of the docents directed another to get pictures, so Walter, Schwa, Jamie and I dutifully posed (amongst major ribbing of the photographer by Walter). Another worker asked us for permission to put the photos on their website.

Walter and I got to talking, and he related to me that his CO called him in and gave him the basic facts of the discovery, and ordered him to write the press release and send it out. Walter followed orders and went home for lunch. They had a new baby girl at that time, and he was late getting back to the base, where every phone was ringing off the hook.

At one point, I asked him, "So, do you think an alien spacecraft landed in Roswell that night in 1947?" After a long pause, with the two of us looking into each other's eyes, he simply replied, "I really don't know for sure, but I trusted my CO." We talked for quite a while -- too much to recount here. Perhaps at another time I will write more about him. I really liked this man.

The museum was a trip -- lots of timelines, eyewitness accounts of the sightings, newspaper articles from the time surrounding the incident in Roswell, and other accounts of sightings. Debunking information was presented as well. We were there until it closed, and we had to go back the next day to complete our tour of it.

Day 7 -- We meet Roswell's resident Paranoid Schizophrenic

It's still too windy to launch rockets, so we headed out after lunch (lazy, aren't we). The plan was to visit several little schlock shops selling "alien" stuff first, then visit the town's other "UFO Research Center" before returning to Walter's place. The schlock shops were just that -- we were in and out in no time. We then wandered into the "UFO Research Center," despite the fact that there was very little in the windows. Once in the shop, things looked even more bleak.

There was an odd-looking man behind the cash register, who laughingly asked me, "Are you an alien?" to which I replied, "No, I don't think so." We started chatting, and as we spoke, he rambled from subject to subject cow mutilations (complete with graphic descriptions of what was done to them), "missing time" (at which point he revealed that he was an abductee and told me his story), and eventually, his persecution at the hands of the town's bigwigs. There were strange things happening at Denny's (right next door), some kind of lawsuit against Denny's of which he was a part, and that some three-letter-acronym group (OSI, CIA, NSA, FBI?) had been investigating him, tapping his phone and bugging his house -- he seemed to switch back and forth between this group being on his side and then not. He encouraged us to check out his stories, one of which was that these folks (OSI? CIA?) pulled a snub-nosed 38 on the manager of Denny's (in defense, I believe, of Roger, the gentleman with whom I was speaking). We could research this and learn that it was true.

He asked if we had visited the UFO Museum yet, and I asked if he had been there. He told me not in a long time -- he wouldn't set foot in there. Haut made the whole thing up in 1947 as a joke and it has been only in recent years that some of the so-called witnesses have come forth with their stories. They were all in it for the money.

In addition, there was a conspiracy to kill him. And the owners of one of the schlock shops was making fun of his eyebrows on the internet. The longer he talked, the more obvious it became that he was not altogether grounded in this world.

We bought about $50 worth of t-shirts from him. He said "Wow! An actual sale. A big sale!" I asked him for a business card, and he said he didn't have any. He could either give me a pen with his store info on it, or I could purchase a paper he had written on his theories of abduction for 50 cents. I chose the latter. (Anyone interested, let me know and I will get you a copy.)

We finally extricated ourselves after about an hour and went back to Walter's museum, and finished our tour.

Day 8 -- Outer and Inner Space!

Up at 630, out at 700. We drove to the old, abandoned Roswell Air Field and set up the first Vidroc. (Jamie's invention -- this is a rocket with a video camera on board, which broadcasts a signal to a land-based recording unit). We spent two hours flying these rockets and nearly shot down a hot air balloon. We had equal amounts of successes and failures. Please see the webpage for details.

We then drove on to Carlsbad (actually, White's City), checked into our hotel (funky!) and headed to the caverns after lunch.

We took the natural entrance into the cave -- a long, descending walk into one of the most awe-inspiring places I have ever been. The formations are beyond description, and I'm hoping that Jamie captured some of them sufficiently to post on the website. I loved this place; the sights, smells, sounds -- I also got busted (in the nicest way possible) for touching one of the formations. But I could tell by looking in the ranger's eyes that she had touched them, too.

Almost forgot to mention the "filet mignon" dinner I had that night. It tasted like corned beef -- I kid you not. Maybe this was a local delicacy. Maybe I just should have known better...

That's it for now --

Day 9 -- From Carlsbad to Tucson: We checked out of the hotel and went back for more cavern exploration -- we took a guided tour of an area that is not accessible on the "self-guided" tour. We learned about the 16-year-old cowboy who actually began the exploration of the caverns, saw kerosene marks he left so that he could find his way around. Can you imagine walking in utter darkness, carrying a tin coffee pot full of kerosene with a rag twisted into the spout for light? I'm sure the light thrown by that arrangement made the formations even more frightening and beautiful! We saw several "rooms," each with its own personality and strange beauty. The King's and Queen's rooms, the Green Lake room (very green!) and the "papoose" room. The Papoose room was so named, because with the light afforded to him by his coffee-pot lantern, the young cowboy saw the figure of a native american woman and her papoose in the shadow of a particular formation. We saw it too, when the ranger turned out the electric lighting, and used a flashlight to show us. No matter what the angle of the light was, it was there.

Later, deep within the cave, they turned out all of the lights and for the first time I can remember, I experienced what the absence of all light was like. It was eerie, yet somehow peaceful. The people on the tour were quiet for a few moments, and the sounds of the cavern became audible. The quiet and steady dripping of liquid on stone, like a heartbeat, enfolded us.

We blasted out of Carlsbad and headed west, deciding to stop in Las Cruces for the night. Nice suite, if you don't need to make a phone call.  After we settled into the room and had some "decompression" drinks, Jamie decided to check email, only to find the phones not working.  A trip to the front desk confirmed that this room was one of many where the phones were knocked out by recent rains. Needless to say, they (Best Western) were sorry they had failed to mention that. The offer to change rooms wasn't one we were up to accepting, so for the night no Internet. (how quaint)

Day 10 -- Our next stop was the Chiricaua National park in Arizona.  

I had hunted the park down using various guides, and the USA Road map software plotted an optimal course. Optimal if we were driving a SUV or Hummer!  The road it wanted us to travel was all rutted dirt for more than 20 miles, neither of us (nor the Honda) were up for that, so we forced the software to give us new directions. (there was a brief struggle but it finally succumbed)

Here were all kinds of amazing rock formations -- balancing rocks, spires and columns. 

Huge boulders loomed over the road and paths, and everywhere we saw evidence of recent rockfall.

Not a place for the claustrophobic. 

The air was sharp and filled with the sent of juniper, pine and madrone or manzanita (the bush/tree that peels itself to a smooth, red, skin-like bark).  It was raining and even some light snow dropped on us as we hiked around several of the formations.

I saw a set of three giant column-like rocks. They appeared to be supporting each other -- without one, what would happen to the others? It made me think of me, my brother and my sister.

There is an amazing mountain-top called Cochise, as it looks like the profile of a native american man. I'm hoping Jamie got some good footage of this, as it was quite stunning.

We proceeded to Tucson, where with some trepidation, we had picked out an "historic" motel to stay in. We got there after dark, and were delighted to see that it was really neat! Part of the rules of the road we had been following included that we did not make reservations -- we just showed up and asked for a room. So far, this had worked out just fine. But we did not count on the Rodeo! This hotel and others at which we stopped were sold out. We high-tailed it outta there and stayed at a Day's Inn outside of town (which turned out to be just fine).

Day 11, 12 and 13 -- The Red Rocks of Sedona: We lazed around the next morning, then left for the relatively short drive (three hours or so) to Sedona. 

Words cannot describe this place. As we approached, each turn afforded another view of the uncanny, astonishingly beautiful, extraterrestrial landscape. Were we on Mars? It was raining as we drew nearer (they have not had this much rain in the desert in years) and the rocks were nearly purple with it. Right in front of us, Bell Rock loomed. As we approached and then passed it, I felt disoriented and there was a very strong, very physical pulling sensation from deep within me (I know it sounds weird, but that's what happened). I later found out that one of the famous "Vortexes" is located at Bell Rock.

Our hotel room was in "Uptown Sedona" and it opened onto a private deck with a stunning view of the rocks. We "decanted" the car and headed out to take a peek at the town.

Sedona itself is geared towards tourism, so most of the shops were tourist traps. But some were serious, new age or spiritual in nature. That first evening we went to the Vortex Book Store (which appeared to be a going concern, and to have a lot of local support). The gentleman watching over the place did not seem happy to be there, and was busy watching Magnum PI or something like it on a television set in the front of the store. As we made our way through the crystals, rocks, aroma therapies, etc. we heard voices in another room. A sign requested our silence, as a channeling session was ongoing.

The next day, we took a hike to Cathedral Rock. This is one of (I think) seven "Vortexes" (the locals do not call them "vortices")in Sedona. A Vortex is supposed to be an area that has some kind of spiraling, magnetic or electrical energy. Undaunted by the fact that the hike was labeled "Hard" -- we are not experienced hikers -- we climbed and climbed and finally, scrabbling for hand and toe holds, went on all fours to nearly the end of the hike. However, stopping for a rest, and contemplating the final (scary!) ascent, with rain falling around us, we heard the long, rolling peal of a thunderous warning from on high... daring the Gods, we ascended another fifteen feet and stopped again. The warning repeated, and we looked at the rain-slicked rock face and decided we had gone far enough. At this place, I felt a strong downward pulling, which I described to Jamie. I later read that "the energy here flows downward." I thought this was interesting.

We climbed down a ways, and took a path around the side of the rock -- probably hiking a total of five miles that day. 

The next day, I looked at the shops, and Jamie updated the webpage and did a little walking around town. We then headed out for another Vortex at the Airport Mesa (Red Rock Loop). This was an easier hike, and we walked out to a point marked by others before us. There was a "medicine wheel" painted in white on the hard, red rock ground, into which others had left offerings; a peridot gem, some kind of crystal, what looked like a tiny hand-blown glass hummingbird or butterfly, an obvious, non-native pebble of smooth black. This is where Jamie felt the strongest reaction (although not at the wheel, but on another flat section of the mesa in front of it). He felt a sense of vertigo, a dizziness that affected him more when he was sitting on the rock and leaning back AWAY from the edge of the rock, than when he was sitting cross-legged and forward TOWARDS the edge -- which of course, is essentially backwards from the way it would normally be. He reports that the more he relaxed about this, the more euphoric it felt. He also reminds me that he could have just been excited about where we were, and the beauty that surrounded us at every turn.

We talked about what it would be like to live in Sedona. We looked at housing prices (they went from 75,000 for one that was out a ways in Verde Valley, to 3.5 million and above for various estates and locations) and figured we could swing something. But what would we do for a living? Also, I don't know if I could take all that alien beauty around me -- it was gorgeous and moving and so distracting. I don't know if I would ever get anything done around there!

We spent three nights and two and a half days in Sedona, and are already planning to visit again soon. It is really not that far away from here (as we found out the next day!)

Day 14 (to 15 am) -- The Grand Canyon: We got up, packed and left Sedona by 9:00 a.m. (yeah, not the crack of dawn...) and headed for the Grand Canyon. It was close to a three hour drive, through snowy countryside. The snowplows had been through our side of the road recently, so it was not too tough of a drive. We had planned to drive to an outlook point (or two) on the South Rim, then leave for home, stopping on the way in Barstow or Bakersfield, depending on our endurance.

(Although we had planned to go to Area 51 and through Tahoe, weather reports discouraged us, and we decided we could visit both of these areas easily enough on a weekend, which we plan to do in the near future.)

When we got to the park, to our surprise they wanted a twenty dollar admission fee. We paid, and then found out that we could no longer drive to the outlook points; we had to take buses. The fare was "free" (I say it was twenty bucks -- ten dollars each to ride a bus to Mather Point.)

To be fair, the twenty dollar fee covers you for one week. BUT. What about day-trippers (or hour trippers) like us? I was pretty upset about this. And I understand that this park is the most visited national park, and there are problems with all the motor vehicles that were coming in. BUT. There were signs along the paved pathway to the outlook admonishing us to "Stay On The Path!" There were warnings about the protected wildlife, plant life and minerals ("this includes rocks!") 

Here is how I felt: Do not touch the plants, do not examine the rocks, do not feel the snow, do not look at the wildlife, do not smell the air -- in fact, do not breathe! Somehow, it felt too controlled. Maybe I have a problem, but I felt curtailed.

The view was amazing, the Grand Canyon is awesome. It was even more beautiful with the snow decorating it. I wanted to sprout wings, spread them and fly. Next trip, I'd like to spend a few days and hike in (perhaps I will feel less confined that way). Jamie should be putting up some shots on the website soon.

We left the Grand Canyon and headed home. As we approached Barstow, we decided to get to Bakersfield and decide whether to go all the way home or stay there. When we hit Bakersfield, it was raining like hell, and we heard on the news that it would be even worse on Sunday. SO... road trip freaks that we were by now, we decided to head for San Rafael! We made it home by 1:20 a.m. Sunday and got to bed around 3:30. 

What a trip. What an amazing experience. We will be doing this again.

Jeanne and Jamie, Home at Last (For a While, at Least)