On Our Last Leg

With Pisgah Forest a bit over 400 hundred miles away, we were excited to get started and get home.  After Fred maneuvered through Nashville traffic and toward northeastern Tennessee, I took over outside Knoxville.  Just in time for heavy traffic, torrential rains with thunder and lightning plus several accidents.  Eventually the weather improved, traffic thinned out and driving became easier.  About 5:00 we pulled into the driveway of 104 Red Fox Drive--Home, Sweet Home!  

Sunday

Up, dressed and unhooked by 7:30, we decided an early start was preferable to pancakes.   We 'finished' Oklahoma, crossed Arkansas and reached Buffalo River, TN, the midway point between Memphis and Nashville--516 miles.

The prospect of adding to the heat and humidity inside the RV by cooking dinner was quite unpleasant so we went to the near-by Log Cabin Country Restaurant.  (I've learned that 'country' is a code word meaning 'breaded and deep-fried.')  Almost everything on the menu was cooked the country way--including green beans. ???

A fellow camper, who had also been traveling east on I-40 on Sunday but a bit behind us, said they'd spent over an hour in the back-up caused by an accident late the previous afternoon.  As Fred exited for gas, we spotted the back-up and were able to detour past the congestion.

Sunday night was hot, even with the AC running at capacity, and noisy.  We heard the traffic on I-40 and the cicadas who inhabited the trees all around us.

OK!!!

We finished New Mexico this morning, drove across northern Texas, most of Oklahoma and saw nothing of interest.  Now that the scenery has become boring, the trip is tedious rather than exciting and we're just anxious to get home.  We've covered 1100 miles with a thousand more to go; we should be home on Monday.

Fred pushed us to reach Checotah, OK so he can have another helping of the pancakes served in the campground cafe tomorrow morning.

We've caught up with the heat everyone has complained about this summer--it's 102* here in Checotah.

Tucumcari Tonight!

We left Holbrook bit after 8:00 and covered 417 miles uneventfully.  The scenery was unremarkable.  Is that because we've been jaded by the wonders of Arizona and Utah or because we've made this trip so many times?

Tucumcari drew its life-blood ($$) from Route 66.  When the Mother Road was superseded by Interstate 40, much of Tucumcari died.  The portions that didn't succumb survive by promoting kitsch and nostalgia to tourists.  'Tucumcari Tonight!' is the town's promotional slogan. Its most recent claim to fame is the model for the setting of Disney's movie Cars.

Our RV park is the grounds of a 50's-era motel.  The units are boarded up and deteriorating while the lawn and parking areas have been repurposed to accommodate recreational vehicles.

We had dinner at Del's Restaurant.  The quality of our meals and the level of their service account for its longevity.                                                      

On the Way Home

A last look at DeMott Meadows

Leaving this morning took longer than we expected.  The dirt lane from our spot to the store's driveway had solidified and Fred had no trouble bringing the RV down to the parking lot.  Evidently, the getting-stuck-in-the-mud incident at our arrival had damaged the filler pipe to the gas tank; we noticed gasoline on the pavement while filling the tank.  Fred bravely crawled beneath the behemoth, between the dripping sewer line and leaking gas pipe, to fix the problem. 

In order to handle the steepest descents of the trip, I drove the Jeep and Fred drove the RV as far as Bitter Springs.  At a pull-over at the junction of Route 89-A and 89, we hooked up the Jeep and proceeded together.  We went through a part of northern Flagstaff which was burned in the Schultz fire and flooded in heavy rains several weeks later. 

Today's leg of the the homeward journey was uneventful, light traffic and very little road construction.  The scenery paled in comparison to that of the AZ Strip--hazy pastel tints rather than deep, vibrant colors.  We were on the road for 6.25 hours (9:45-4:00) and traveled about 275 miles.


We seem to have jumped from the frying pan into the fire or, more precisely, from the fridge into the frying pan.  As usual, we slept under three blankets topped by a down sleeping bag last night and turned on the space heater for an hour or so in the morning.  As we got further from the Plateau, the elevation decreased but the temperature increased.  As soon as we pulled into our Holbrook campsite Fred hooked up the electricity so we could turn on the air conditioner.

Farewell to Kaibab Plateau

The 12 weeks of our contract at the store have flown by and our time on the Kaibab Plateau is over.  We are so grateful for the experience of living for three months in such a lovely and interesting place.  We've seen the snow recede, the lakes in the meadows dry up, the buffalo migrate from lower elevations, the quaking aspens leaf out, just about every type of weather this place gets and scores of varieties of wildflowers.  We'll leave tomorrow morning with a great deal of ambivalence--excited about going home but we leave a big chunk of our hearts behind.

Hoodoo Voodoo

This weekend's destination was Bryce Canyon National Park, about three hours from here.  Although Bryce is called a canyon, it is actually a series of amphitheaters.  Regardless of the designation, it is wildly unusual, very, very beautiful and totally enchanting.

In order to reach Bryce, we drove north on Route 89.  The topography and vegetation changes quickly outside of Kanab and resembles southwestern Colorado by Mt. Carmel.  Route 12-East runs through a stunning portion of Dixie National Forest aptly named Red Canyon--a place we plan to visit on our next trip.  Although the scenery was lovely, the closer we got to the park the darker and more overcast the sky became.  

The entrance gate to the park consisted of 4 lanes, a clue to how 'visited' (i.e., crowded) Bryce is.  It reminded me of a bank of turnpike toll booths. We were dismayed to note the preponderance of foreigners among the park-goers.  90-95% of the people we heard speaking were conversing in a tongue other than English.  We were able to identify the Europeans by their language as well as their clothing (the ubiquitious 'man purse', weird shoes and T-shirts sporting graphics like Sport Athletic, US College or American Police).

The parking lot at the trail head where our route originated was full so we drove to the next viewpoint.  Reaching the overlook, we were greeted by thunder and lightning, definitely inauspicious for hiking.  We retreated to the Jeep to wait it out; after 25-30 minutes with no improvement, we 
decided to try the next overlook.  Here, we got our first glimpse of Bryce's hoodoos. These oddly-shaped free-standing rock columns remain after the softer surrounding material has eroded.  As we marveled at their shapes and colors, the sky cleared behind us.  

Back at the trail head, we found a parking space and set out or rather, down.
We hiked from sunset to sunrise and then from sunrise to sunset.  To clarify, we descended from Sunset Point and ascended at Sunrise Point and walked the paved rim trail from Sunrise Point back to Sunset Point, a 7.1 mile loop with 3200 feet of elevation change and incredible sights.  I lack adequate skill to describe what we saw; the best I can do is refer you to our photos.

Tired and awed, we drove back to Kanab ooh-ing and aah-ing about what we'd seen.  Following a 'last supper' at Nedra's, our favorite restaurant, and showers, we just collapsed.

This morning, we did our final laundry-grocery-gas thing and were back at the RV by 11:00.   Later, we went into the park for Fred's delayed birthday celebration.  He chose hiking the Transcept Trail and a veggie pizza at 'our' picnic table on the rim of Bright Angel Canyon--our departure tradition.  Unfortunately, an Asian family chose that exact spot for their first glimpse into the canyon and to loudly commemorate the experience by taking many, many pictures.

We'll work tomorrow and Wednesday and leave Thursday morning.  It's hard to believe that 12 weeks have passed so quickly.

Happy Birthday, Fred!!!

Did you know that Fred and Smokey the Bear have the same birthdate?  Yep, same month, day and year.  Here's the really good news: Fred is alive.

Coming back to the Plateau on Tuesday morning, there was evidence of heavy rain--water flowing in normally dry washes, a mud/rock slide across Route 89A, enlarged lakes in the Parkway meadows and deep channels in the store's driveways.  All due to a storm (we missed) on Sunday.  The monsoon has been less aggressive for the remainder of the week.  Until today--the sky looks like gray flannel and there's a steady rain that seems like it will continue all day.

The upside of bad weather may be to keep business slow today.  Yesterday was tough:  a big delivery to deal with--i.e., lots of merchandise to carry, lift, price, shelve or stock--while waiting on customers, ringing up purchases and monitoring the gas pumps.  By the end of the day, we were both exhausted.  The consolation was we'd completed our last Friday and have only three more days of work.

WOW!!!!!!!

That is the only word which even comes close to describing Zion National Park as well as my response to it.  Although it's only 120 miles from the North Rim, it's very, very different and very, very beautiful. 

On Sunday, we drove to the Kolob Canyons, a separate and lightly-visited section of ZNP.  We picked up our permit for Monday's Subway hike and then did the Taylor's Creek Trail, a five-mile out-and-back that parallels the creek upstream to the Double-Arch Alcove.  Except for the entrance/exit, the route is flat and easy and zig-zags across the stream countless times,  refreshing breaks from the heat and bright sunshine.  Double-Arch Alcove was delightful--it offered shade, a cool breeze, smooth rocks for our picnic and lush banks of yellow columbine. 

On the return, I walked in the creek while Fred stayed on the trail.  When we re-united at a crossing, he mentioned spotting a rattlesnake, now slithering toward the over-hanging bank.  He coiled himself into the small cave and turned to watch us.  Evidently he didn't perceive us as a threat because he didn't warn us off with a rattle.

Early the next morning, we gathered the gear required for The Subway and drove to the trailhead.  After a short walk through the trees, we made the extremely steep 400' descent through loose rocks and sand--scary enough in itself but thinking about the ascent made it even more unnerving--to the  bottom of the canyon.  The Virgin River is neither wide nor deep but it is filled with twists, turns, rocks, boulders and flood debris.  I had assumed there was a defined trail to The Subway but it's an every-man-for-himself situation down there:  The 'best route' changes with the latest rockslide and/or flood. 

We set out early enough to have shade for the first hour or so, a relatively easy part.  We then scrambled and boulder-hopped for hours in full sun with occasional patches of shade and refreshing water-crossings.  In some places, sheer cliffs or huge boulders made walking along the bank impossible, forcing a choice between walking in the river or climbing above the obstacle.  On the way out, we chose the climbing option more frequently but by the way back, we'd learned that the river was usually the easier option.

"The Subway" is certainly an accurate name for this destination.  We rounded a bend and saw a large oval opening whose curves sides looked exactly like...a subway.   Entry was via the river; we had to proceed carefully over the upward-sloping rock bottom, threading our way through patches of slippery slime and pockets of powdery sand.  Inside was a series of pools, several so perfectly symmetrical they could have been man-made.  Beyond the small pools was a large one that stretched the entire width of the tunnel.  Going any farther required swimming, which we weren't prepared for, so we turned around and s-l-o-w-l-y crept down the slick decline. 

With our new-found knowledge about the river-walking option, going back was easier and quicker than getting there.  Along the way, we found the two immense white boulders that held dinosaur tracks.  Seeing them was quite a thrill but photographing them successfully challenging. 

All was going well.  Until we reached the bottom of the trail snaking up the 400' high cliff.  By then, it was afternoon, the trail was in full sun and we were tired.  That uphill scramble was hot, dusty and very steep but not as treacherous or difficult as I'd imagined.  Even though we were on last terrain, the distance between the top and the parking lot seemed infinite and we began to fear we'd taken a wrong turn. But, no--through the trees, a glimpse of a car in the parking lot!

We happily collapsed in the air-conditioned comfort of the motel, eventually showered and went to dinner.  Up early the next morning, we went grocery shopping, gassed up and drove 130 miles back to the Kaibab Plateau, arriving in time to report for work at 10.  A full, tiring but wonderful weekend!