Breathtaking Views August 25, 2012

Never before can I recall being so out of breath so much of the time.  The air here is thin and the altitude high. We are at almost 9,000 feet.   This breathlessness was totally unexpected.  I was planning to buy hiking boots for all of the hiking I expected us to do.  I did bring sneakers, which prove to be enough.  Nick and I both find ourselves huffing and puffing from the slightest exertions.  I would love to come back after I have lost a hundred pounds and see how much difference it would make.  I suspect it would make a noticeable difference.   Meanwhile, I pant. I have trouble falling asleep, because on top of it all I have a cold and stuffed up nose,

I work out; go to the gym at least three times a week.  But the eating is all wrong.  Too much fun food- or junk food as it is usually called.  This has to change.

I started to go to the gym when I did because it hit me that I am closer to 60 than 50 and I want to live as well as I can for as long as I can.  Images of my poor mother in her wheel chair with her oxygen going into her nose though a nasal cannula.   I am just not ready for that.  I cannot imagine I will ever be.

So I breath the rare air here and gulps and look forward to feel as though I have super powers when I return to sea lever=-or near sea level.

Nick and I sat on the porch in our rocking chairs, both of us in our pajamas.  Every now and then a chipmunk or ground squirrel (I am not sure which is which) would come and look at us as if we were going to feed them.  I stomped and send them scurrying.  They are cute, and tempting, but it is illegal to feed them, and as cute as they are, I believe they are rodents.

A man wearing leather chaps walked by.  I told Nick that Dale had chaps like that for riding his Harley.  I confessed for the first time that when I see the bikers, especially when they are moving away from me, it is like saying good bye to Dale all over again. 

We got the fireplace in our cabin fixed yesterday.  Then we were a little worried about the fact that we could see the tiny flame in the gas pilot, so we slept with one of the windows open slightly.  We survived the night!

No plans at all today until our dinner reservations at 7:15- in time to watch the setting sun.    I have my knitting and Nick has his Kindle.

We are about to go find some breakfast.  Later we will go down to the campground about a mile down the road.  There, the General Store has WIFI, so we will get on, check email and post this.

Later!

Friday August 24, 2012

Friday August 24, 2012

6:20 am

I am sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch of our log cabin at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon Park.  It is chilly, brisk, nice.

There are animal sounds around coming from unseen creatures, but mostly it is quiet and calm.

This is not a lone cabin in the woods; it is in a sort of “village” of log cabins.   The cabins were all built for the other pilgrims, like us, who have made their way here to see the glory of the Canyon.

The people who are up at this hour all seem to be migrating in the direction of the coffee shop.  Young people determined, straight backed strides and older folks (like me?) walking slower, looking down so they don’t trip on a stone or crack in the sidewalk.

I occasionally see someone walking back in the other direction. Triumphant they carry their coffee or maybe two cups for someone waiting for them.  The steam rising against the cool air.

We have a coffee maker in our cabin.  It is a wee thing and makes barely two cups; one for Nick and one for me.  The coffee is fine, but the powdered creamer doesn’t do it justice.

All of the log cabins have green shingled roofs, as does the lodge building.  They remind me of playing with Lincoln Logs with the kids when they were little enough to be willing to let me play.

There is so much around me and so little going on.  Breathing in.  Breathing out.  I am breathing hard actually, because of the high altitude.   It’s much harder than I remember, although, 30 plus years ago it probably wasn’t hard.

There are the quiet morning sounds.  The sunlight tickles the tops of the trees.  Chipmunks are skittering around. The cold air is chilling the tip of my nose.

A couple from another cabin opens their door on their way for coffee. When they close it behind them and start for their morning I hear her say “it’s warmer than it was yesterday” in a soft voice as the walk away.

This isn’t really “my” cabin, or “my” rocking chair.  I don’t really live here, nor do any of my neighbors.  We borrow this space and imagine ourselves lucky enough to be among the early explorers who discovered the peace and beauty of this place.

Of course, for those romanticized ancestors, it was a hard life.  Yes there was all of the natural majesty of it all.  But there was also the search for wood to build a fire to keep warm.  No warm beds and morning cappuccino for them.

We have the luggage we brought with us.  We have come so we can leave our baggage behind. We have indoor plumbing (hurray!), credit cards and digital cameras.  But the rocks and chipmunks and canyons don’t care a whit

America the Beautiful!

The drive from Colorado to Utah was amazing.  Cannot come up with enough superlatives to describe the scenery.   The word scenery makes it sound like I am referring to something planned and set into place, like scenery in a play or a movie.  That’s not it at all.  It is just amazing how different this part of the world is from space I usually occupy.  Reston, Northern VA, D.C.   I love the Washington area and don’t really think I can imagine myself permanently living anywhere else.  

The nature of things here- mountains one second, jagged rock up shoots the next, canyons followed by hills that look like piles of white sand- but huge and with intricate designs from the wind and rain.

The colors change too.  For a while you are looking at all this dry, somewhat desolate red mountains, then there are some trees adding green to the view.  You look up and see clouds that cannot really be so big and white and fluffy- yet there they are!

Right this minute I am sitting at a picnic table in a campground in Utah.  The highway goes right in front of the campground, so the whoosh of cars is an almost constant companion.  It is cool, maybe 60 degrees.  As I look up, what do I see?  Mountains all around me.  They are reddish dirt with scrubby trees.  Nick said that he thought that the trees look like the little trees he use to have on his HO train set.  The ones with green sponge like material as the leaves.   That’s about how they look.

We have seen a lot of signs warning of large wildlife crossing the road, and one sign saying that there might be eagles on the roadway (eating road kill?).  We haven’t seen anything but the one quick squirrel I saw dashing across the busy highway.  He made it!  It is unnerving to be worrying about wildlife when the speed limit varies from 75 to 80mph.

Yesterday we were in a store and all of a sudden, when another shopper said “sure looks ugly out there” we looked and saw a real downpour.  The cashier said that this is the desert and it’s not supposed to rain like that.  We waited a few minutes to make sure the roads were not so flooded that we couldn’t drive safely.

Nick is back from his shower.  It’s my turn to get a shower and get on the road.  We are heading to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  I cannot wait; I have already taken over 400 pictures this trip.  Thank goodness for SD cards!

I think I may have a slight case of altitude illness.  Last night when we got here I was gasping to breath.  My mouth was so dry I couldn’t get enough to drink.   I was also a little bit dizzy.  We are at about 6000 feet.  I looked it up, and it is possible to feel it at this elevation.  We are going to be at an even higher elevation for the next three days or so.  I plan to take it slow and easy and work on the knitting I brought with me.

Now, let’s see if I can get this to load onto my blog!

We've been on the road for one week today!

Yesterday, as we were leaving Gothenburg, Nebraska, we stopped for breakfast at a geodesic dome that was a restaurant called “Lisa’s Kitchen”.  Lisa comes from Hong Kong and was pleased when we told her that our youngest child had been born there.    One of her regulars, a man named Don, spoke to us.  He told us all about what a wonderful person Lisa is and what a great friend.  He told us that he was a Vietnam vet and was shocked when he came back from war and was called a “baby killer”.  He said he thought at the time that he was doing the right thing.   Don said he would fight on our shores to defend America, but that it is terrible that we are fighting overseas.  “Our kids are getting killed and we are killing their people too”.   Don went on to say he didn’t blame President Obama at all.  Said he feels sorry for Obama and the mess he has to deal with.  Don has seen a lot of life; trouble with drugs and his health.  In and out of jail.  Married 8 times.   Don said his wife now is a therapist and she is wonderful.  I asked Don how old he is and he said he is 75.  Nick thanked him for his service to our country.   I am glad we met Don, he’s an all American man.

Driving, and seeing this amazing country we are lucky enough to live in.

Today we drove from Denver across the state of Colorado and are now in Grand Junction, Colorado, in yet another KOA campground.  This time we have a "lodge" which is a cabin with a kitchenette and a bathroom!

Driving in to Denver yesterday I marveled at the mountains that are such a beautiful backdrop for the city.  They looked hazy, which may be the result of all the wild fires Colorado has had recently.

As we drove west, the scenery got more spectacular at every turn.   The mountains were bigger and the elevation we drove at rose.  The traffic was fairly light which helps too.   I am not sure I can even describe everything without using so many superlatives that I sound terribly trite.   

The mountain villages with ski resorts look so cozy, but I cannot imagine skiing down such high slopes.

The mountains became steeper and we were in a canyon (the name escapes me).  It felt like being in the Grand Canyon.   I took loads of pictures, but am too tired to load any up right now.

 

We did stop for a break, in a small village strip mall, and went to Starbucks.  There were a dozen or so Harleys in the parking lot, their drivers sitting and drinking their coffee.   The Starbucks guy told me that the group had been to Sturgis.  

 I always think of my big brother, Dale when I see Harley Davidsons.  I feel compelled to talk to the drivers, but usually don’t.  Today,when they all started their engines with that distinctive, deep rumble, and started to head out, I started to cry.   I wish Dale could still enjoy riding his big bike.  I know that people say that he is lucky that he died doing what he loved.  I don’t think so.  I think lucky would be having him still here.   He would only be 62 this year.

My Treatise on Public Restrooms

I have noticed that there are all sorts of automatic devices/ choices in public bathrooms.   Some have automatic soap dispensers.

  Some have automatic paper towel dispensers.  There are blow dryers for your hands, both the kind that have a start button and the ones you wave your hand under to make it blow. 

 Then there are the faucets that respond, in theory, to your hand being held in the right place.  And then there are the toilets.  There are the automatic ones that flush if you so much as shift your weight.  The ones that have no visible button; handle or other way to make the water go down.   Some faucets have a timer sort of thing that allows the water to run for about ten seconds before shutting off.   It’s impossible to get your hands wet enough to wash them.  Then it is almost impossible to rinse.

I am not sure I have ever been in a bathroom that has all of the automatic devices in it.  I hate having to wave my hand around trying to find the sweet spot that gives me running water.   My hands must not be the right temperature or size or something. 

Once my hands have somehow gotten washed and rinsed, I have to wave and pass my hand under the paper towel holder, just to have a square inch of paper come out after the machine has said “bzzzz”.  There is never, ever enough to get my hands dry!  So I walk away and try to trick the dispenser, make it think I am someone else begging for paper.  Bah.

Of course, the blowers make a whole lot of noise and don’t make my hands any drier than when I started.   So, after waving my hands in a conniption of trying to get dry, I wipe my hands on my pants and walk out of the bathroom with wet hands and wet streaks on my pants.

I was having “tummy troubles” the other day and spent longer than usual in the stall.  Every time I moved at all, the toilet flushed and I got a nice spray of toilet water.  

I was in a public restroom in a service station the other day.  It was a large room with a partition, one mind you, between the toilet and the sink.  And next to the toilet was a chair.  Not sure what that was all about.   But, this weird bathroom was totally non automated.  I flushed the toilet myself, when I was ready.  I turned on the water and left it on long enough to wash and rinse.  And I even got to pull out enough paper from the dispenser to dry my hands!

Oh well, there’s no place like home.   Where there are rarely surprises in the bathroom!

This is a picture of the cabin we stayed in at the Gothenburg, Nebraska KOA.  The water in the pool was freezing!

Tonight we are in Denver, staying in a hotel.  Imagine, I don’t have to go out in the night looking for the bathroom.  I don’t need to wake Nick up if I need to “go”.  And we have a shower right in our room!  After the last few nights of taking in our linens and towels, it is nice to have a short break.   

The cabins have really been fine.  Better, in my opinion, than sleeping in a tent!   When we leave here we are headed to Grand Junction, Colorado.   We will be in a KOA campground again.  Nick decided to pay the difference and get us a “lodge”.  That’s a cabin with indoor plumbing!

Driving through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and today, Colorado has been educational.   The further west we go, the drier the corn and the more devastating the drought appears to have been.  In Ohio the corn looked green and healthy.  

Indiana and Iowa were so flat until we got into the hillier parts of Iowa.  Then it resembled a Grant Wood painting of the rolling hills with farms that stand miles from each other.

Modern, turbine wind mills are amazing.  They stand about 300’ high.  We saw trucks carrying individual blades for the wind mills and could not believe how huge they are!

I have been taking hundreds of pictures as we travel.  Some will get posted here if I can do a better job of getting the pictures I want and get them to transfer in the size I want.