Bea and Mark’s Excellent Adventure

Tuesday, Aug. 21

So we woke up at 4:30 a.m. We did this for a couple reasons. One, we wanted to see the sunrise over the Grand Canyon. Two, we wanted to be able to take showers before we did so, because we thought we were going to have to drive down to Flagstaff, Ariz. after the sunrise so I could find a place that had Internet access so I could work.

Grand Canyon sunrise

So we got up and packed up our tent and headed to the showers. It was about 5 a.m. and we discovered that the showers didn’t open until 6 a.m. That was the first knot in our plans. So we drove to Mather Point again, opened the sun roof, reclined our seats and looked up at the stars. We saw the Milky Way and Bea identified a bunch of other constellations (I’m not very good at spotting them). I nodded off and on until the sun started to come up, and then we got out with our digital camera and an extra blanket to stay warm and watched the sunrise. Again, amazing.

We left there about 6:30 a.m. to go back to the showers. There we found out that the Grand Canyon is always on Mountain Standard Time and doesn’t observe Daylight Savings Time. So according to them, it was 5:30 a.m. So we had to wait another half-hour to shower.

Finding Jenny’s

When we were ready to go, I was worried that by the time we got down to Flagstaff, I wouldn’t be able to work too long before we would have to leave for Utah. It was going to take us 90 minutes to get to Flagstaff and then another 5.5 hours to get to Utah from there, so we weren’t relishing the trip. Fortunately, we found Jenny’s Internet Cafe just south of the Grand Canyon in Tusayan. But it wasn’t open when we got there, so we drove into a nearby parking lot and I mooched free wireless Internet off a hotel in town (thanks Red Feather Lodge!). Once Jenny’s opened about an hour later, we moved there.

While I worked, Bea drove through the Grand Canyon Village some more and was able to take a picture of an elk that crossed her path. I was jealous that I missed that one. She also informed me that back at Mather Point, at an area with no guard rail, she saw an older, overdressed woman in high heels backing up perilously close the edge of the cliff so her husband/boyfriend could get a good picture. It would have been fitting if she fell off, I guess, seeing as it theoretically took millions of years for both the Colorado River to carve the Grand Canyon and for human evolution to occur through a little process called natural selection.

More Grand Canyon views

So we were able to leave Jenny’s around 1 p.m. and proceeded to go back into Grand Canyon National Park through the south entrance. We drove toward the east entrance, where we hadn’t been yet. The views we saw along this path were the best by far. Lapin Point, in particular, was amazing. You had a good view of the Colorado River, which from so far away actually looks like a dried river bed. We both commented on how incredible it was that a river could have carved that whole canyon into what it is today. Lapin Point was also amazing because you had an expansive view of the canyon to the west, and then to the north and east you could see the Colorado River meandering back and forth through the rock.

Another place we stopped was a stone watchtower that was built in the early 20th century for visitors. We climbed up to the top of the cylindrical building, where they had telescopes that you could pop a quarter in to see closer views of the Canyon and the Colorado. It was through those that you could see that the Colorado is really quite alive, not a dry riverbed.

On our way out, we passed a couple guys going toward the watchtower. One of them had a football that he kept tossing up in the air to himself. I guess he wasn’t expecting the Grand Canyon to be exciting enough for him, so he was going to have to play with the football to stay entertained.

On to Utah, but first, let’s stand in four states at the same time

So we left the Grand Canyon, vowing to one day return to do some hiking and camping there. As we headed northeast, we saw signs for Four Corners, a landmark I had overlooked in planning our trip to Chicago. It was a bit out of our way but we figured it was worth the detour. Four Corners is the spot where Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico meet, so you can stand in such a way so that you’re in four states at the same time.

On our way, we drove through Navaho Nation — Native American land — and I began to think about how weird it was that we were going to a landmark that was celebrating the exact geographic borders of four states that Navaho Indians probably couldn’t care less about. Then it got stranger, because we pulled into the landmark and found out that it was actually run by the Navaho Nation’s recreation department. It was just weird paying the Navaho Nation to see a landmark that I can’t imagine they’re huge fans of.

Needless to say, the landmark is cool. It’s a circular stone platform with a silver seal and cross in the center showing where the state borders are. We took our pictures and hit the road again. A few hours later, we were in Moab, Utah and setting up our tent in the dark at a KOA site there. We were asleep shortly after climbing in.

Monday, Aug. 20:

So I got up early to start work, about 5:30 a.m. During our trip back to Chicago, I’m working online in the mornings and then making calls and writing in the afternoons while Bea drives. Somehow I had no cell reception on the 20th floor of the Monte Carlo, which is on the Las Vegas Strip, but I still managed to get some work done.

Meanwhile, Bea awoke and walked the Strip some more, returning with crepes from La Creperie in the Paris hotel. We both discovered this place about five years ago when we first came to Vegas together, and we were hooked. I’m not sure how they compare to crepes in Paris, although Bea said she likes them more, most likely because they tend to be sweeter.

Anyway, we split a breakfast crepe with eggs and veggies in it. Then she got one for herself with fresh berries and chantilly cream, and I got one with Nutella and sliced bananas.

To the Hoover Dam

We left the hotel around noon and went to Circuit City to look for a power inverter. The inverter plugs into our car’s cigarette lighter and provides an AC outlet. Circuit City didn’t have it, but Office Max did. The thing is a lifesaver, and has allowed me to write on the laptop while on the road, plus we can both charge our cellphones and the digital camera’s battery while we’re driving.

Then we headed east toward Hoover Dam and were there in the next hour and a half. It was hot again but we were able to park in the garage. We went into the visitor’s center, watched an introductory movie, and then went on a tour in the dam, where you get to see the underground turbines churning out hydroelectric power. It was obviously amazing to hear about how they built it, and especially how quickly they did it: five years. They were constantly pouring concrete during construction, at a rate of about three feet every 78 seconds, I think was the statistic. Both of us immediately thought of the Big Dig, a huge construction project in Boston that has taken decades, cost billions, and still wasn’t built right. Thinking about it now, it seems that most construction projects today tend to cost more, take longer, and not be built as well.

Either way, the dam is amazing. When you go outside and check out the view from the top, it looks like a giant slide. On the other side is Lake Mead, which the guides told us would be able to flood the state of Pennsylvania with a foot of water. You can tell the level of the lake is going down quickly by the different colors on the rock surrounding it. Bea read or heard something about how Vegas and much of Southern California could be out of water in 10 years if the current conditions — the drought and booming construction in that area — continue.

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Sunday, Aug. 19:

We said our goodbyes to Jeff and Janine and thanked them for letting us stay with them for five weeks. Honestly, without them this trip would not have been possible. Then we jumped on the freeway and headed northeast to our first stop,Las Vegas.

Calico ghost town

Our first stop along the way was in Calico, an old silver mining town that has since been largely abandoned and turned into a tourist attraction. We obliged and went in. It was hot hot hot that day, the temp in our car hit 112 at one point. Outside the sun beat down and hurt the backs of our necks.

Apparently Calico was a silver mining town that at its peak in the 1880s had about 1,800 residents, and in total they mined $86 million worth of silver out of there. Then when the price of silver dropped, the town crumbled. We walked through and saw a reconstructed town hall and a reconstructed fire house.

The original barber shop was there, which for some reason doubled as the dentist’s office. Outside there was a sign advertising “Goose Grease moustache wax.” Get me some of that, please.

The original pharmacy was still there, with a list of what they used to sell there. It included “cures” for ailments like German dyspepsia. Sounds nasty.

Then we walked through the mine and were able to have an idea of what it must have been like to work in there, which must have been horrible. We were both thinking about the recent mine collapse in Utah as we were going through. In the tour of the mine, they have mannequins in different locations set up to look like they’re mining. Some of them were smiling, and it was creepy.

Then we went into a cafeteria down the street and we bought a sarsparilla to split. Cost was $2, but with tax it came to $2.16. I almost asked if they had food tax in the Old West but kept my smart-alecky comments to myself. Turns out the sarsparilla, which was called Sioux City Sarsparilla, was made in New York state. Now that’s a genuine “ghost” town. Seriously though, we did actually enjoy it there.

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Yes, so it’s been a while since we’ve blogged on our adventure. We left off in San Luis Obispo. Well, the next day we were due in Temecula. We went through Santa Barbara, Malibu and L.A. to get there. Then we stayed with Jeff and Janine for about five weeks, saw them get married, went to wine country in Temecula, watched their cat and dog while they were on their honeymoon, and left.

There’s a lot more to say, but now that we’re back on the road and heading to Chicago, we’ll just skip it. Maybe we’ll reflect on it later if we’re feeling nostalgic about Southern California, but for the time being we’ve had our fill. Weather’s great, staying at Jeff and Janine’s was great, everyone drives SUVs, Hummers and jacked-up pickup trucks, and the drivers are about 10 times worse than Massachusetts drivers. Bea agrees.

There’s a lot of construction and smog and you breathe it all in and cough and wheeze. Or at least I do because I have bad allergies. I’m also allergic to the animals. Now I’m complaining so I’ll stop and we’ll move on to the return trip.

Saturday, July 14:

So we woke up on Saturday ready to hit the Pacific Coast Highway. Given that the direct route we ended up taking — from Half Moon Bay to San Luis Obispo — was about four hours, we decided we could take our time and enjoy the sites as we headed south.

As a quick side note, it’s funny how quick you can be accustomed to such long, all-day drives, so much so that you get to a point when a four-hour drive is like a dream.

Driving the highway and snacking on berries

The first place we stopped was off the highway and on a side road. We saw a sign for fresh strawberries. We came upon an old rundown farmhouse with an old man and his old dog. He sold us a crate of strawberries for eight bucks and asked what our last name was and then asked where in Italy my grandfather was from. He was Sicilian.

Unfortunately, his strawberries weren’t that good, which we discovered down the road when we actually started eating them. They were mostly absent of any flavor, but had a dry aftertaste that made you go looking for a glass of water. We should have tried a couple before we bought a crate of them. Oh well.

Our next stop was prompted by a sign that said, “Olallie Berries pick your own.” Well first, we didn’t know what olallie berries were, which intrigued us. And second, one of the things Bea loves to do is go to these pick-your-own stands, whether it be for blueberries, strawberries, peaches, whatever. So we were sold.

So olalllie berries are blackberries. Technically, it’s a cross between a youngberry and a loganberry, which are themselves crosses between a blackberry and some other berry. But basically it’s a blackberry. The guy running the pick-your-own stand told us that “olallie” means berry in Chinook Indian. So when you strip it all down, an olallieberry is a berryberry. So Bea and I went to pick some berryberries.

They were good. We didn’t spend too long there — maybe 15 minutes — but we picked quite a few berries and paid a couple bucks for them. Then our hands were covered in black and as we drove down the Pacific Coast Highway, our mouths quenched by delicious berryberries.

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