white sands

Cyndi went to a conference in Tampa Bay for four days at the end of February, and it so happened the boys had no school on Thursday and Friday for parent teacher conferences during that time. We did have to show up Saturday morning at the baseball fields for cleanup day in preparation for the new season. The general meeting was held on the following Monday, and the boys found out what teams they are on. I am very excited for them as they both got on good teams. Rylee will play for the Marlins in the machine pitch II league, and Jackson will play for the Yankees in the (player pitch) minor league. Each team looks to have a good group of boys that will be a good fit for each of them, but I was also very pleased to see that each team also had experienced head coaches and assistant coaches, all of whom were not only experienced coaches but also experienced players and, what is more, were experienced working as a coaching team together. This was very good luck, as I think they will both get some good challenge, develop lots of skills, and have fun.
 
Meanwhile, Ariel was attending a conference of some kind in Barcelona. She called me after she returned while she was going on an 8-mile run more or less along the East River from Manhattan across the Queensboro Bridge and returning across the Williamsburg Bridge. She said she actually stayed  in Sitges, a coastal town about a 30-minute train ride from Barcelona. She loved the region, she loved the people, and she loved the food and wine. Chris, I gathered, is very busy with research work and graduate work.

Santa brought the boys backpacks for Christmas, and they had not been used yet. On Thursday we adjusted each of the backpacks and the boys grabbed a few things to bring along. Their bags were mostly filled with a sleeping bag, some layers of clothes, extra socks, gloves, and ski hats, and each had a bottle of water. Mine was filled with the tent, extra down blankets, the usual emergency and first aid kits, a lantern, a stove, a couple of old pads, cups, spoons, a knife, a cutting board, and my own water bottle and extra clothes.

Oh, and we did remember our toothbrushes. Jack packed vitamins, too. Plus, we brought the disc sled we got in Ruidoso to slide down the sand dunes.

After a hearty breakfast of pancakes and bacon, we went by the market and got bagels, summer sausage, a gallon jug of water, string cheese, dried apricots, instant oatmeal, and instant hot chocolate. We got a few things for the drive. Jackson got sour cream and green onion chips for his "snack". I got Funyons. Ry got a roll of candy. Since we only planned one night, packing in late afternoon and packing out early morning, we didn't need much of anything else.

We gassed up at Costco, picked up submarine sandwiches at the Subway next door, and then drove to White Sands, about a three hour drive. This part of the adventure did not appeal to Jackson, since he did not have his computer and did not appreciate the drive. We retraced much of the same route as our trip to Ruidoso, except in Carrizozo we turned toward Tularosa and Alamogordo. Along the way, I played a CD Ariel gave me ten years ago. We talked, the boys played, and I don't recall any fights between them. Tularosa and Alamogordo both seemed like nice enough towns and places one might retire to on the cheap. Alamogordo, in particular, seemed to be developing and had many hotels, restaurants, a college branch, and the Space Museum, which we were going to visit on our return.

We arrived at White Sands about 4:30 and the Ranger registered us and assigned us a campsite. The National Monument only allows overnight stays in ten primitive camp sites disbursed along a two-mile loop in the dunes near the end of the road. They lock the main gates at night, so no-one comes in at night. On the back of the permit is an emergency number to call if you need to get out.

The visitor's center was great (its bathroom not so great), and there was a little museum and gift shop. Among other things, the center and gift shop sold the disc sleds for about six times what you might pay at Walmart at the end of the winter season and about three times what we paid in Ruidoso. They also sold wax for the bottom of the sled, which we later found out might have been worth purchasing. The Ranger gave the boys some Junior Ranger books, but Jackson would have no part of that kid stuff. She also gave the boys a booklet on "ordnance" that might be uncovered by the shifting dunes from a past history of drops (or strafing?) from fighter planes from the major air force base next door. (The White Sands Missile Range is in this area, too.) She warned to leave these alone if, by chance, you ever see one, which, of course, we never did. But the warning provoked lots of comments from the boys until, eventually, they forgot about it. She also told us about the Leave No Trace/Pack It In, Pack It Out camping. (Don't leave toilet paper; dig a hole for any potty. I brought a trowel, but in the sand the heel of your shoe worked just as well.) While we were there, a number of families stopped in to sign up for the Ranger-led stroll at  sunset, before the park closed.

The Visitors Center is actually at the edge of the dunes. I brought out the string cheese, which the boys devoured, saying they hadn't had some in a long time. We paid $9 total for admission and our camping permit fee. The road goes about 10 miles in all, most of it covered in sand. We passed the cars parking for the stroll. The backpacking trailhead is at a large parking lot about 8 or 9 miles in, with a vault restroom, at the base of enormous dunes of sand. When we arrived, there were about four or five cars parked at the trailhead. There were two families up on the dune next to us, sledding, and Rylee immediately grabbed the sled and ran to the top, coaxing Jackson, who joined him, as I readied all the packs, making sure all the loose clothes, food and extra water were packed away.

It's not really a trail, although there were several footprints you could follow. The trail is really a series of posts about a 100 yards or so apart. When you reach one, you look for the next one. One post had tumbled over from the shifting sand. You go along the crests of the dunes and up and down dunes. The footing can be firm in spots but often was very soft when climbing. The trick is to find a route that keeps you on top of the dunes. Of course, the view is tremendous. White sand as far as you can see. The boys thought it looked like snow. Closer to the beginning of the trail there were small valleys of scrub vegetation, grass, and cacti, living in the sand, but these became fewer as you hiked in.

The Ranger assigned us campsite #1 as the closest, and it was no more than three-quarters of a mile in. Jackson hiked along, talking about the ordnance and much surprised at how easy backpacking was. He kept track of the posts. Rylee would dash about and a couple of times fell face first into the sand. He stopped for water once. I led the way and wondered if we had passed campsite #1 where we saw the post that had tumbled down a dune. We kept going. We'd see a post in the distance, arrive, but no number. Finally, we were certain we must be at the spot and we decided to stop and pitch the tent at the bottom of a dune, away from any wind I hoped. It was getting late, and I was certain it would turn cold almost immediately at sunset.

The boys played as I pitched the tent. Ry had brought a ball, and we also brought along a frisbee. They had their caps on and thick sweatshirts and fleece parkas and insulated vests. I laid the mats and sleeping bags in the tent. Ry remembered the rocky tent pad we had in Durango. Here it was  firm sand. Jackson arranged the extra down blankets on top and the boys nestled in. Jackson mentioned food and I crawled inside with the bagels and summer sausage. Jack said, don't cut yourself. The apricots were not appreciated, but the bagels and summer sausage were a feast and the boys loved it as we ate laying down inside the tent, a small lantern and flashlight on. We talked. It was pitch black outside, a faint glow over the top of the dunes from the horizon. We had nothing better to do, and it was too cold to sit outside to see the stars, so we slept.

Off and on I had watched the weather at White Sands, trying to calculate when we could go. Summer would be too hot; spring would bring winds and busy baseball schedules would make any backpacking plans difficult. This particular time promised sunny days and official highs around 60. Close to freezing at night, but no wind. Almost a full moon. I knew the moon would rise about 9:30 and last until dawn. Sometime in the middle of the night I got up and walked about while the boys slept. It was actually very comfortable. The moon glow prevented a good view of the stars. The light reflected from the sand glowed all about me, with no shadows.

We slept better than I thought we would. Three times I awoke to hear a light wind flapping the fly cover. Each time it seemed the temperature dropped. Several other times I awoke from being sore from sleeping in one position on the ground. I'd awake to be sure the boys had their caps on and that each was covered. We slept very close to each other, thriving on our body heat. Only just before dawn did it seem to get uncomfortably cold and the sides of the tent had frost. But once the sun began to come up, the morning warmed up considerably.

I boiled water on the stove and made hot chocolate and oatmeal. The boys hiked all over the surrounding dunes. Sure enough, on the very other side of the dune by our tent was the post for campsite no. 1. We hiked over to see some protuberance of hardened sand, which at first from a distance we thought was a tent, but it turned out to be a crust where a cactus once grew; its skeleton lay beside it. The boys played in the sunlight and "moon walked" down the dunes, hopping down the soft sand. From the top of the dunes we could get telephone service, just barely, but enough to talk with Cyndi, who was warmer and worried in Tampa. The boys kept playing as I began to take down the tent and pack the bags in a slow and methodical way.

Just as we were leaving our site, another backpacker approached from the trail from further out in the dunes. It was a woman hiking out from her campsite. She remarked, after I asked, how she had heard us at one time in the night but the sound was gleeful, how she wondered at all the stars visible before the moon rose, and how cold it was. Jackson commented how he was a "techie", something he said a couple of more times to people who asked about our overnight at White Sands. The return hike was even better because we could see all of the dunes stretching out and we saw not only the course we had taken the day before but many, better alternatives to get back to the trailhead. From atop the dunes, facing in the direction of the road, you could see a little "backcountry" playground laid out among the dunes, perfectly accessible from the parking areas at the end of the road. In the distance we could see another early hiker coming or going, I don't know which. It looked like he was carrying a tripod.

Jackson really liked the bagel and summer sausage meal and there was some left, so when we got in the car we drove to the visitor's center, bought some drinks and made sandwiches in the parking lot. We saw the ranger who checked us in. She said their gauge showed the temperature had dropped nearly 50 degrees during the night, nearly to single digits. We drove to Alamogordo and visited the Space Museum. As it turned out, it was a free admission day for New Mexico residents. The museum had several real and replica missiles and space capsules and some mock ups of space stations and shuttle controls. Lots of displays of gear and food, space suits, satellites, and technology.

Driving home, Rylee was preoccupied with his tablet for most of the trip. Jackson brought his video camera and microphone but we left it in the car during our hike because we thought the sand might not be good for it. He took it out for a few minutes on the drive. Jackson really did not like the driving and at one point I looked back and saw him sitting, staring out the window. At that moment, I thought that was okay. He doesn't get much chance to be bored and lost in his own thoughts. Rylee had dibs on a bath when we got home. Jackson, I'm sure, was ready to get on his computer. Which was okay, too, I thought.

Red River

We did go up to Red River this weekend. Packed the small RV with food and stuff and even managed to get the bicycles in. We had lunch at Michael's Kitchen in Taos, which was very yummy, some of the best chile ever, an old favorite place to stop in Toas, and arrived in Red River late afternoon, where we met Cyndi's sister, Janey, and Ron.

We stayed at the Roadrunner RV Resort Park on the opposite end of town. The lodge office is very nice and well-staffed and the entrance is gated. We drove up and we were able to get a space without a reservation next to Janey and Ron along the river, near the showers, where we hooked up everything you could possibly hook up. I started a little charcoal in a grill, and we picnicked by the river, eating hamburgers and fruit and cheese, with a little wine and Fat Tire.

It was an okay place. Once you get beyond the entrance, I don't think I'd describe the place as a resort. Lots of trees (and the river, of course) and RVers seem to flock to the place. There is no tent camping. It's close to town, and the town runs a free trolley for all visitors but we never took advantage of that. The inlaws love this place, and the boys had plenty of space to ride their bikes, meet some other children, and explore some rocks and woodpiles with their new friends. Our place was next to the only road over the river to the back part of the park and there was a constant slow traffic of diesel engines. Our Class B converted van was the tiniest there. Lots of Class A and C RVs, travel trailers and 5th Wheels, as Jackson tells me. He knows his RV classifications.

Red River itself is tucked in a narrow valley along the river, and is mostly about a two-mile stretch of shops along the main street. The architecture is a mix of western mining clapboards and Alpine A frames. There's a rather popular bike rally here at some time in the year, so the town is very Harley-friendly. In the winter there's skiing right at the edge of the main street, and in summer there's some small amusements and lots of hiking and fishing. It wasn't crowded our weekend. The town must be hurting from the state of the economy.

The boys played along the river and even did some fishing right by our spot along the bank and from the bridge. Jackson played a lot with a boy from Texas. Both boys bicycled a lot, Ry most of all since this was the first time he could manage his new, bigger bike on his own. He wore his helmet. Ry spun out on his bike and skinned his knee. He managed to keep his bike under control, however, and it was more like he laid it down, at the cost of one knee. There was also a small playground.

In the morning there was coffee and hot chocolate. (We brought our grinder and coffee maker with us.) After breakfast along the river, we went for a good but short hike in town with a group and a guide from the Community House. Along a nice trail on both sides of the river, paved on the town side and gravel on the mountain side, we got some lessons in the history and natural history of the place. It ended at a little museum. We visited a small coffee shop nearby for kolaches, smoothies, and espressos. Jackson found a necklace for Janey. After the hike, we went fishing at a pond at Fawn Lakes in the national forest and visited another pond in town but at that point it was raining and lightning so we went back to the RV park. I managed a nap, while everyone else drove in Ron's truck to Eagle Nest, and Ry took a nap along the way.

Cyndi and Janey snuck away for some good hikes, bike rides, and little tours of shops on the main street, and Ron was often upriver to find fishing holes, especially in the wee hours of the morning while the rest of us slept.

Dinner was about the same. We finally did manage to pop the Jiffy Pop just as it turned dark. In the morning, more bicycling, more fishing, more hiking, more shopping tours. The boys and I played a little on the tennis court.

The weekend was hot and dry for the most part. Even Taos was in the mid 90s. Along the way on Friday we made a small detour to check out camping at Orilla Verde, along the river near Pilar, just below the gorge. Along the way back on Sunday, we stopped at the fish hatchery outside Questa to try their pond in the mid-day sun and feed the fish at the visitor's center. Then we stopped again in Taos for shave ice (just expensive snow cones there) and in Santa Fe at Bumblebees for burritos and tacos. Of course, we stopped at Toyopolis for lego toys and there was a quick five minutes at J Crew, our usual stops in Santa Fe. But this time, we didn't visit the plaza and just headed home.

We had wifi available at the park, but we didn't use it much and didn't miss it. Jackson did figure out how he can use his IPod Touch to send text messages, even though it's not a phone, while waiting for the guided hike to begin. My phone had no service in northern New Mexico and so it wasn't until we reached Espanola that I got Ariel's message that she was seated at the theater at the Lincoln Center to see A Disappearing Number.

Durango trip

We're off to Durango for Father's Day weekend. If you haven't discovered it already, look into our trip at www.durango.bleichers.net.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DAD! and to any other dads who may also be reading.

Coyote Creek in New Mexico

We went camping at Coyote Creek State Park this weekend. After stocking our food supplies and packing, we managed to pick up Jackson from school on Friday only a few minutes late to drive up to the campground, almost a three-hour drive north through Las Vegas, then to Mora, and up the road toward Angel Fire. We were meeting Ariel there. She was on a 350-mile bicycle ride through Cuba, Chama, Tierra Amarilla and Tres Piedras. We heard from her Tuesday night (and later a message from a pay phone) but until she got back to the Gorge outside Taos she didn't have any reception. She went over some pretty tough passes. She called just before we left home and said she didn't expect to get to Coyote Creek until about the time we arrived, which would be just before sunset.

The campground was pretty full. Daniel, one of the rangers, greeted us on our arrival. I had talked to him on the phone the day before. The campsites with the shelters were all taken, so we drove up to an auxillary loop, called Encino, up the hill on the other side of the ponds. No shelters and no water on that loop, but we found a nice site at the tail end of the loop we decided would be nice. We dumped our stuff to claim the site and went back down to the entrance, next to the showers to pay the fee. ($10 per night.) Cyndi rode her bike down and waited for Ariel at the highway entrance. Ariel rode in, her lights on, exhausted I'm sure.

The boys and I went to a little store about a half-mile up the road. It was more like a little living room (one of the teenagers was studying), with shelves lined with ketchup bottles and other picnic goods and a freezer of ice. We bought a couple bundles of wood for the campfire and a soda. On the way back to the site, we filled the water container.

At this point, the sun had set so we set up camp in the dark. Ariel took Cyndi's bike down to shower and by the time she got back our tent was up. Ariel remarked it was a mansion. I didn't put the fly on the tent. There were millions of stars in the sky, and thankfully no sign of rain. You could see the Milky Way. Ariel set up her backpacking tent. In the middle of the night we heard the strangest sounds, like an animal distressed by a pack of coyotes, but later we figured it was some crazed bird. We heard it the next night, too. We were told a couple of times that there were bears visiting the campsites several times this summer. We even heard there was a bear sighted during that night at the ranger's station. (I had put the food in the truck overnight.)

We brought along Cyndi's and the boys' bikes. Cyndi did some loops around the park and once or twice the boys rode theirs down with her. There was a small playground along the way to the showers complex. Saturday, our only full day, we spent most of the day preparing three very full meals, beginning with coffee, hot chocolate, eggs, bacon, hasbrowns, oranges, and bagels and jam in the morning. Ariel relaxed by the fire at night and in the morning with her book, filling up with water, carbs and protein after her trip. I had some time to sit between the meals, talk, and watch the boys riding.

From our campfire, we could watch the boys take off down the road on their bikes. The mountain road was dirt, of course, dusty, with rocks and some ruts and a slight downhill from our site. They both flew down the hill, with their helmets. There was an outhouse at the bottom of that first long hill, which Cyndi made their limit, and the boys would turn around there and race back up the hill. Jackson learned to change gears on his new bike, and the whole weekend there turned them into accomplished mountain bikers as they would ride almost the whole day. Ry told me this morning that he dreamed all night about mountain biking.

When clouds came in during the afternoon, I put the fly on and put things away before an afternoon shower. We took advantage of that rain to take naps. Cyndi and Ariel took a few hikes. There was a single-track trail that lead from our site a little less than a half-mile down to the group shelter next to the creek and across from the half a dozen spots with hookups. Another trail took you higher up the canyon. The boys and I went to get more firewood and refill our water supply. That night we repeated cooking in the dark, sitting by the fire, and looking at the stars.

Ariel and the boys fashioned sticks for roasting marshmallows, and Ariel and Rylee played a few games matching dinosaur cards while Jackson was scavenging for kindling or riding or hiking with Cyndi. Both of the boys were very impressed with Ariel's headlamp and all of her gear.

In the morning there was time for more bike riding and hikes. We had breakfast and then packed the camp. That took a while but by noon we were packed. A car top carrier held a few things, a bicycle rack off the back held three of the bicycles. Ry's bike fit inside at the back of the Durango, with plenty of room for Cyndi and me, the boys and Ariel. We had showers again (the water was hot but very slow coming out) and took off for Mora. We thought of taking the road toward Sipapu and then driving the "High Road" down to Chimayo and Santa Fe. Instead, we took the same route back. We stopped in La Cueva at the Salmon Ranch raspberry farm. It was a week too early for fresh raspberries, but we had an excellent tamale and really good raspberry soft serve ice cream. The boys and Ariel, who was between them in the back seat, watched the Hannah Montana movie until it ended and the boys drifted off to sleep.

It rained when we dropped Ariel off and continued raining. There was a little rain this morning, too, as we got up. Jackson had school this morning. I imagine Ariel would sleep in this morning, and then get ready for leaving at the end of the week.

Grand Canyon trip

We went to the Grand Canyon for the boys’ spring break.

Our map:

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ROAD TO SHOW LOW. We borrowed Papa's RV, a conversion van. We picked it up in Belen on Thursday morning, cleaned it out, packed all of our stuff into the cupboards, and headed south to Socorro. The weather reports said it would be gusty with a chance of rain and snow in northern Arizona. At Socorro we headed west into the wind. We passed through Magdalena, a pleasant village, Datil, a spot on the map, and Quemado, a town. We saw the VLA, the Very Large Array, and had sandwiches and apple pie at the Daily Pie Café in Pie Town, on the continental divide.

We were headed that first night for Fool Hollow Lake state park in Show Low, Arizona. There was no rain along the way, as I expected. The highway was good and the traffic very light. At the park, we had our choice of beautiful spots near the lake. This is probably one of the nicest state parks to be found anywhere. Two loops were opened this time of year, one higher (Mallard) and closer to the lake, the other lower (Redhead), slightly more protected from the wind. Each loop had its own central facility with flush toilets and warm showers. Each site had the usual hookups. The roads were concrete, and everything was pristine. There was a small lake, with boat ramps and docks, and soft gravel walking trails along the lake, which Cyndi explored the next morning.


After we found our site, we drove around to see Show Low and get gas and groceries. The story I heard, there were two men, more than a hundred years ago, and they decided the place was too small for the both of them. So they drew from a deck of cards to determine who would stay and who would go. The winner would show a low card. The first drew the deuce of clubs, the name of the main street.

It looks like a nice town. It is at the foot of the White Mountains, surrounded by Ponderosa Pine. I thought I saw signs of prosperous ranching, second homes, and, I’m guessing, horses. There's a golf course near the state park. The town is under 200 miles from Phoenix. The main road has plenty of motels, restaurants, and other businesses. There is also a road with lots of new development that heads south towards Pinetop and other towns and eventually to ski areas. We took that road several miles and, seeing no restaurants we were curious enough to stop at, we finally stopped at a Safeway. We bought steaks and salad, bread, beer, a nightlight, chips, cheese, eggs, juice and vanilla wafers. All of which cost more than I could imagine, especially since I had already stocked the RV’s refrigerator and cupboards with plenty of food.

As we came out of the store, we saw that it was snowing. The storm I expected along the way had finally arrived. The snow came down hard and wet. It was blowing, whiting out the road ahead. We stopped to fill up at a Shell station, stopped at a Sonic (no chance we were grilling tonight), and drove back to the park.

It was late evening, but there was a white glow reflecting in the snow. We entered the loop where our site was. The pines were dressed in white. It was absolutely magical. It was a cold night.

The snow stopped during the night. Less than two inches accumulated, blanketing the trees, but the roads remained clear. In the morning, I ground coffee inside the RV and brewed a pot. The boys watched DVDs and played chess, while Cyndi explored the tranquil trail around the lake, venturing beyond the docks. I cooked bacon and eggs on the grill outside while the boys played for a few minutes until they were too cold. It was sunny and bright, and I set up a chair in the sun while breakfast cooked. After cleaning up, filling the water tank and emptying the waste tanks, Ry and I took a hot shower and off we went.

We drove straight north to Holbrook to catch the interstate to Flagstaff, where we stopped for lunch at Charley’s, in the old hotel near the depot and the center of town. It was probably the best meal, other than the ones we prepared, on the entire trip. The boys were excited to get to the Grand Canyon. We decided to drive on 180, which takes you through the mountains, past the turnoff to the ski bowl, and connects to the road from Williams to the south entrance of the Grand Canyon. The road was clear. It was not a windy road and there were not major grades. As we approached the Grand Canyon, Jackson sat beside me in the front, and we talked and talked. I drove the long way from the entrance gate so the boys could catch their first glimpse of the canyon as we drove past Mather Point.

GRAND CANYON VILLAGE. I expected that with the forecast of winter weather and the time of the year, we would find little crowds, but as we passed Mather Point, the small lot was filled and cars were parked up and down the side of the road. When we arrived at the Trailer Village, it was a quarter to five, Arizona time, and the sign said full. Thankfully, I did make a reservation about two days before. We found our assigned spot, not far from a decent bathroom.

As most know, there is a village at the South Rim. Cyndi and I visited a few years ago, parking near the historic area and the train depot and having a pleasant afternoon at the old El Tovar and the other sites closeby along that part of the rim. The Trailer Village is in the eastern half of the village, far from the historic area, near a general store called the Marketplace, the Mather campground, the Yavapai Lodge, and the Visitor’s Center. I call it the Marketplace, but more exactly it may just be the General Store at the Market Plaza.

If you put a compass point on the road to the Trailer Village just after the turn off and drew a circle with a quarter-mile radius, you’d just about find the Trailer Village entrance, the Mather campground entrance, and the Marketplace at equal distances along its circumference. At least that's how I pictured it while we were there.

There are free shuttles, running every 15 minutes, connecting you to everything in the village, with connections to other shuttles that take you beyond the village. It can be a long loop within the village itself. The village loop is really composed of two loops, one around the historic area and train depot, the other around our end, and there are a couple of points where you can change directions to avoid doing the entire loop.

As soon as we parked, we saw elk and deer roaming the perimeter of the Trailer Village and Jack watched a giant black raven tear into a bag of food the bird found next to our site. There is a shuttle stop at the gate to the Trailer Village but we hiked about a third of a mile to the general store to see if they had any coaxial cable and then caught the shuttle across the street at the Yavapai Lodge to the Visitor’s Center. By now the center was closed, so we continued walking to Mather Point. There were already far less parked cars.

It’s just plain scary to stand on the rim, especially when you have two small and energetic boys. It is immense, and the setting sun made the canyon glow. I had asked Ry a few times, as he was excited to be going on our trip to the Grand Canyon, What is the Grand Canyon? I-don-no. It’s a big hole, I’d say. When we got to the point, Ry told me it was a big FAT hole. I was surprised that there were so many people there, so many languages, so many people going beyond the rails for photographs.

We took the shuttle again to the historic area to see El Tovar, thinking we’d have dinner there. El Tovar was packed, and so was the bar area, so we walked down the path along the rim to the Bright Angel Lodge. We ate in the Arizona Room restaurant, which advertises itself as a steakhouse. It’s not much of a room, frankly, and the food is only passable. But they treat you nice, you can wear anything you want, you’re not being completely gouged, and the Margaritas were excellent. The boys liked the rolls and pasta, and Cyndi ordered root beers, so they were happy. They gave the boys a little activity book that had a map of the village. Ry poured over the map, explaining how we’d get back to the RV. Jack didn’t like being away from the RV. As it was, there’s a bus stop right outside the restaurant and we didn’t have to wait long in the dark to get a shuttle back to the RV. Walking from our stop, we saw bright stars and the boys picked out the dippers in the night sky.

The next morning, I ground coffee again and made a pot and, while the boys continued sleeping, drove the short distance to the Camper Services building near the entrance to the Mather campground. It was early, about 7 am, and we could park at the front door. Nobody seemed to be moving in the park. There’s a laundry there and showers. They charge $2 for an 8-minute hot shower, which is a long shower. Jack and I showered. I even shaved, and Jack stayed in the shower while I organized our clothes. It was cold and drafty getting out. All in all, better than coping with the cramped shower on board the RV.

All clean, we then drove to the small parking lot between the Marketplace and Yavapai Lodge. Once again, it was still early and there were plenty of parking spaces. Jack and I brought our laptops, since we had heard there was wi-fi in all of the lodges, so we found a cozy spot to catch up on the internet and have some breakfast. Cyndi got online and found a crazy email from a friend ranting and raving about…well, he actually didn’t say, but he must have been watching Fox News and listening to ultra-conservative talk radio and was pretty upset about the state of things. Jackson mostly got on one of the Disney sites, and Ry got out his Bob the Builder play laptop. It was a cafeteria-style food service at this lodge. Jackson wolfed down a pancake, and Ry wolfed down two helpings of eggs.

Back to our RV spot, and this time we found a shortcut that took us a short distance to the Visitor's Center. From the Trailer Village, we walked past the immense but hidden water tanks and got on the “greenway” path. This path is for pedestrians and bicyclists only. (I imagine there will be more and more bicycles in the park in the future, but, of course, you can’t ride along the rim.) At the Visitor’s Center, we sifted dirt to find potsherds, arrowheads, and other signs of ancient civilization and Jackson made a clay pinch pot. We took the shuttle to Yavapai Point, a good spot to see the canyon and walk along the rim. A small but well done exhibit in the observation center there provides a good lesson about the Grand Canyon, and Jackson was interested in the geology exhibits. (This offered a better presentation than you find at the newer Visitor's Center, but the Visitor's Center hosts ranger talks and guided walks. We didn't time our visit for any of those, nor the evening talks at the relatively nearby Shrine of the Ages.) It didn’t take a long walk to get away from any crowds at this point. Somewhere along our return, we got some ice cream at the Marketplace and bought Grand Canyon shirts at the lodge. Ry immediately took to his cap and t-shirt, which he explained read “Grand Canyon National Park” and had numbers. (1919, the year the park was established.) Of course, he put it on as soon as we got to the RV and soon afterward tripped and fell running around outside and got it dirty. He is upset when he can't wear the shirt all the time.

That night Cyndi and I sat in the setting sun, drank some wine, and had some baguette, grapes and cheese. It reminded us of our opera tailgate in Santa Fe, and just then we heard the faint sound of opera from the next site, where an older couple (about my age) sat around a small charcoal fire next to their Airstream. They had bicycles stored on a rack off the back, and the music came from an i-pod docked into a small pair of speakers. I grilled the steaks and corn we bought in Show Low. Another neighbor told us about the two months they just spent in Mexico. Cyndi set up the RV inside for dinner, prepared the salad, and we all cuddled inside.

Wikimapia satellite view of Trailer Village:


Click inside box to open larger view.

RETURN HOME. Cyndi thought we might get an early start, so I filled the water tank again, emptied the waste tanks, and stored and unhooked everything but the power. Yet another neighbor asked if I needed help, as I stumbled in the dark with the small flashlight Jack stores in his tacklebox. I woke up from a dream before 3 in the morning, Arizona time, unhooked the power, and off I drove. I had wanted to exit the Grand Canyon from the eastern gate and go down 89A to Flagstaff for the scenery along the way, but decided just to head to Williams. I stopped at the Little America in Flagstaff to fill the gas tank and get some coffee. No one woke up. I turned off at the exit to the Petrified Forest national park, but the gate was closed until 7 am, Arizona time, so I got out to stretch and watch the beginning of the sunrise.

From there, the boys were restless and Cyndi really wanted some coffee. She read a little in the back, too tired to keep the boys from wandering about, and we finally stopped in Gallup for breakfast. I looked at myself in the mirror in the restaurant. Egads, what a scary sight!

Around Laguna, we took the Highway 6 cutoff to Las Lunas. Filled the tank, washed the RV, and returned to Belen, where we unpacked the RV, cleaned it, and packed our car to return home once again.

SOME LINKS:

Link to a photoshow with more of our trip pictures. Includes photos before trip.

Fool Hollow Lake Recreation Area.

A good map of the village, close to scale and not as distorted as others, but not completely up-to-date. It doesn't show the short-cut and walkway we took to the Visitor's Center. This comes from a nonprofit site. Here's their link.

2009 Grand Canyon trip planner. Updated version sure to be found at their home page for brochures.

The lodging and food concessionaire. The company is called Xanterra. I think they run just about all the concessions in the park, except maybe the campground and the general store and the bookstore. (There is a deli inside the general store.) Reservations for the RV park, the Trailer Village, are made through this site. The Yavapai Lodge near the camping end of the park might be a good alternative to filled up hotels in the historic area. At any rate, we liked its cafeteria. In the historic area, El Tovar is a great place for lunches, with a nice bar area and outside seating when it's warmer. They make it pretty clear that reservations are needed for dinner there. Bright Angel was where we found the Arizona Room, but there's another restaurant there that may have a much better menu.

Grand Canyon railway and accommodations next door. RV park and hotel near depot. We considered staying one night there, riding the train up, staying overnight in a hotel at the rim, and then riding back on the train and staying one more night in their RV Park. Don't see why not. But checked out the train prices and the coaches and tried to imagine how much our train-crazy boys would enjoy the trip after the first 30 minutes.

2009 Grand Canyon shuttles. You'll find a guide with shuttle maps and schedules of events just about everywhere inside the park. We show some of the stops on our map at the beginning. The schedule provides frequent and regular shuttles.

POST SCRIPTS:

I noticed at the Yavapai Lodge and the Marketplace how many of the young employees were from so many countries. They seemed to enjoy their jobs, and I imagined that many were using the experience to practice their fluency in English. At the same time, it made so much sense as the park attracts visitors from around the world. Where do you go if you are visiting the USA from a foreign country? I bet the Grand Canyon is pretty high on the list. It struck me that this would be a good place for a summer job for a young person. There looked to be some accommodations for employees near the Trailer Village. Many of the shuttle drivers seemed to be retired guys. Not a bad job, either. The rangers I talked to seemed to have experience in other national parks.

Cyndi really liked both of the parks. As an RV park, the state park in Show Low was more beautiful than the Trailer Village. Cyndi loved seeing the different areas of the South Rim from our new point-of-view, and she was impressed with the easy access by shuttle. And I could see she was wishing she had brought her bicycle. (Next time, I'll try to remember to note if there are bike racks around; I thought I saw bike racks on the shuttles...but maybe not.) I'm sure we will return when the boys are older and when all five of us, Ariel, too, can venture down into the canyon.

With our small RV, we probably could have stayed in the Mather campground, too. I've heard others say they have. That would have provided a little less of the parking lot surrounding and more trees and privacy. We didn't mind where we were, though.

About three miles south of the entrance, there is a place called Tusayan, which is a bunch of motels and fast-food restaurants. It's probably not a terrible option, since you're going to pay $25 to get in the park anyway (good for seven days). Just don't think you're on the South Rim or in the Grand Canyon Village, as did one unlucky soul who stopped us late at night near Bright Angel Lodge asking for directions to a motel there.

I gather the park is trying to encourage use of the eastern end of the park, away from the historic end, for activities and parking. I remember how hard it was to park near the train depot and parking near Yavapai did not seem to be a problem during our time there. As I've indicated, the shuttles are great.

Camping in this part of the park creates a new perspective. We certainly missed the historic area, particularly the area around the trailhead, the mules, and the architecture. There is quite a lot of history, which even precedes the establishment of the park service and the park itself. In putting some of this together, I've run into some of that history. Another fascinating aspect I found is that there's apparently a rather large residential community on the rim. I've heard it described as similar to living on a military base, and like the military there's a hierarchy in accommodations for those residents. Growing up as an army brat, I find it very intriguing and wonder what it must be like to live on the rim.

The boys like to call the RV a motorhome, “’cause it’s a home and it has wheels.” It's our closest experience to The Train With the Magical Wand.

Abiquiu Lake, Riana Campground

We spent one night at Abiquiu Lake. Before leaving Saturday morning, we had dinner with Ariel Thursday at El Pinto.



Abiquiu Lake is a reservoir controlled by the Army Corps of Engineers in the heart of Georgia O'Keefe country. Imagine her landscapes and you know the panoramas around the lake. We decided to go there because it's about two hours from our home, it has showers, and the temperatures should be mild this time of year.

The Riana campground sits on a mesa above the lake. It is not forested, mostly cedar and small pine trees. The temperature during the day reached the mid or upper 70s (in mid September) and there was a cool breeze as we set up the tent. The evening was cool but always comfortable. There was a slight rainfall as evening approached.

I took on the cooking duties. I grabbed some food and ice Friday night at the grocery store after work, so I had some ideas about meals. (I loaded up the gear Saturday morning, and since the gear is at hand ready to go, and since we've had some experience now, and since we were only staying one night, packing was easier and lighter.) Cyndi loved the meals. Grapes and watermelon on our drive. "Bratwurms" when we arrived around lunchtime. Barbecued chicken on the campfire ring in the evening. Homemade chocolate chip cookies Cyndi made before the trip. A hearty breakfast in the morning. After the tent is up and Jackson blows up the mattress, Cyndi sets up the sleeping quarters, and she cleaned up after the meals.

We did some exploring, but Cyndi did much more exploring on her mountain bike. She loved it. A nice workout for her, and a little alone time for a change. We brought some bikes and "scooters" for the boys, and they said the best part was riding them (at high speed) down the hill to the playground and shoveling and climbing and spinning on the merry-go-round.

We drove the switch backs down below the dam (it turns into a pleasant dirt road along the river) and down to the boat launch. We checked out Ghost Ranch on the other end of the lake. We didn't go swimming or fish. (The boys need some good, simple rods.) There were a few boats on the lake but very few. There are two roads down to the lake, with some picnic areas and family fishing spots, along with the boat launch and a dock, between the turnoff for 96 and the campground. The visitor's center next to the dam was closed.

There are basically three loops of sites at Riana. Some beautiful spots nearest to the lake, numbered in the low to mid thirties, and some nice walk-in tent sites with "pads". I think all sites have a table, a grill, a campfire ring, and a lantern holder. Two shower facilities in all. Very clean campground. We chose our site at one of the highest spots for the view, a short walk to the showers, and the cover over the picnic table. We were next to the park attendant, who was very nice. The sites on this loop have water and electric, and Jackson was able to play his computer with the car parked next to the outlet. Mostly RVs on this loop. We had a few neighbors, but it was not crowded at all. One neighbor played music at night, but at least I liked the songs. There is a strict quiet hours policy between 10 and 6, the gate closes at 10 at night, and there's a clear prohibition posted against alcohol. Needless to say, we were very discrete with the bottle of wine we brought for dinner.

With the rainclouds all around, we didn't get to see a huge display of stars at night, as we expected. There was a little wood left at the site to burn and Jackson and Rylee gathered up some dead twigs to add to the fire. The chicken cooked perfectly over the coals in the ring. I brought a sauce I conjured up in a small grape jelly jar while packing the cooler in the morning to brush on the chicken. We had an old package of jiffypop leftover from a prior trip, and we were able to pop some of it and not set it on fire. The boys played with their glow sticks. Mostly, we sat and watched the glow of the sun setting.

After coffee and breakfast, a long bike ride adventure for Cyndi, and a trip to the playground, we took down the camp, packed the car, showered and changed into clean clothes. On our return, we stopped in Abiquiu (about 15 miles) and had an excellent lunch (and the boys split a rupidebeer float) at the Abiquiu Inn.

There's a general store called Bode's (gas pumps, and maybe some firewood?) in Abiquiu, which is in a beautiful small valley with many signs for art studio tours. We saw a small vineyard along the road. We toured the grounds of the Inn, and it looks like they have some very nice accommodations. There was an eclectic sculpture garden. The food really was prepared very well. The restaurant is casual and pleasant. There's some wonderful art hanging, a gift shop, and a gallery upstairs.

I enjoy the peace of driving on these trips, but driving through Espanola is still not very pleasant. I was hoping it had changed. Going north on 84/285 there's a left, a right and then another left in town, and the directions are not that well marked. (This is also the way to Ojo Caliente until the road splits outside Espanola.) Once in town, keep a sharp look out for arrows to Chama on the way up, to Santa Fe on the way back. We stopped at a produce stand on the way back just before getting into Espanola.

I remembered again how I didn't like this stretch of driving. When we go to Taos, there's a little bypass we take to avoid most of Espanola (I always forget where it is exactly but always manage to find it) or we drive the longer, slower high road, which is one of the most beautiful drives anywhere, taking you through Nambe, Chimayo, Truchas, and Penasco. The stretch through Pojoaque is built up now, too. Good for the pueblo, but also a bit sad. The Lottaburger there is long gone. And the newly constructed highway taking you past Tesuque and the opera still is unnerving even though the view of the Sangre de Cristos is beautiful if you are a passenger. I had a lot of time to reflect on all of this (and more) on the drive. Once you are close to Abiquiu, though, you remember why you came.

Jackson was a tremendous help in setting up the tent and taking it down. I foresee a day when camping will be much easier with the boys' help. Jack's great. He loves being involved. It was fun to work with him and I realized how much he can do now. He packed the poles away when we took the tent down. Together we folded the tent and the ground tarp, walking the corners together. I asked Jackson to sweep away the dirt and rocks from the tarp, and he took it on energetically. When Ry wanted to help, too, Jack left him a small pile of pebbles to sweep away. Ry tried to help set up the tent, too, as Jack placed the poles around the tent. Poor guy smashed his finger with the rubber mallet, pounding in a stake. It wasn't bad, just a short cry. As Ry likes to say, "It's okay."

I have an old Swiss army knife that Jackson likes to see when we camp. I hardly ever use it, but it's nice to know it's there. I keep it in a tool chest with other emergency, repair, and spare stuff I almost never need. Jack's still too young to have a knife, but he carried it in his pocket most of the time and now we keep it in his tackle box, along with his flashlight. I told him when we were driving home to put it there for next time.

He thought he lost it when we got home. He looked all around the car, moving seats and his stuff, while I unpacked everything. He didn't tell me what he was doing, but I knew. Some things I put back on shelves in the garage. Others went inside, where Cyndi quickly unpacked them and started a load of laundry. When he couldn't find it, Jackson went in to tell Cyndi in dread. Cyndi helped look while I unpacked the last items from the rooftop carrier. (We've got our money's worth with that carrier; holds the miscellaneous odds and ends, such as folding chairs). It didn't take long for her to find it. (He told me offhandedly later that it was in his pocket the whole time; he must have known I knew.) Cyndi didn't say anything, either. Jack was really relieved.

I was thinking while this was all happening that there was a lesson here, but I also knew that he was suffering with worry. Jack really treasured the knife and he knew I had trusted him with it. I think my dad gave it to me, not when I was a boy, but later, and what's more all the tiny tools worked and nothing was missing. It looked almost brand new. We had talked several times about taking care of it, mostly for safety reasons. Honestly, I knew I wouldn't really miss it. My camping box has other tools I'd grab long before I'd ever pick it up to use. "It's okay," as Ry says philosophically.

So I didn't say anything while he looked for it. I admired him for looking so hard on his own, stoically searching, not saying a word. Of course, Cyndi had faith that it would be found. He doesn't know it yet, and won't for a while, but it's already his.

I know this is off-topic, but I'll mention it anyway: I've been trying to wrap my thoughts around the current economic crisis. It makes all the fuss about Palin seem so insignificant now. I can't help thinking, as I try to sift through it, that the costs of Bush's policies are bankrupting us and that there will be many who will benefit from this while many more will pay the price, all the while we are told we cannot afford basic needs, like health care. That's my general reaction for now. I suppose there's opportunity somewhere.

Jemez Camping & State Fair Rodeo

Dollar Day at State Fair.





More Bandelier. See Jemez Camping.