From the crest of the hill, it looked as if the giant checkerboard stretched for miles. Squares of various shades of green, brown, and gold alternated across the gently rolling hills and valleys. It was an endless sea of color with nothing to obstruct the view. A constant breeze led in the dance twirling and dipping the grain. Green and amber waves of grain rolled sequentially with a random ripple here and there as another gust of wind cut in to join the waltz.
The colors faded into monotonous tones of golden brown. In the distance a giant grasshopper appeared. Soon it was joined by others sporadically scattered across barren land sparsely clothed in dry grass polka dotted with prairie dog holes. Some of the grasshoppers stood motionless while the heads of others rose and fell. It looked as if they would take flight at any moment.
To a little girl experiencing this scene for the first time, it was like peering through the back window into a prehistoric world when giant insects and dinosaurs ruled. In fact, not far from the giant grasshoppers was a lone dinosaur running alongside the road.
There was treasure hidden beneath the uncultivated dry, hard ground. The giant metal grasshoppers knew – Black Gold – oil, that is.
taken from Listening for God by my Guest Author, my Daddy
The County Surveyor lived in Big Timber. He liked the sturdy log houses and wrote a letter asking Father to meet him in town to discuss ordering some logs. The meeting would take place in a back room of the Big Timber Cafe. Here the men could discuss the building project without any interruptions. On the appointed day Father loaded us in the Whippet touring car and we went to Big Timber. At six o’clock we were escorted into the reserved meeting room at the Big Timber Café. The children were told not to make any noise that would distract the men as they did their business.
We were just finishing up our soup ‑ a dish that was served with every meal except breakfast ‑ when a neat little man walked in. The waitress came and took his order. My sisters and I became silent so as not to disturb a potential customer. Slowly we realized that we could have made all the noise we wanted. We could even slurp our soup, and Mr. Bussey wouldn’t hear us. “He is stone deaf,” someone explained to us.
When he finished his meal, Mr. Bussey came over and sat at the end of our table. “I want a set of logs,” he said. He spoke loudly. “Can you get some dry ones like they used in John Moss’s house.” “Won’t have any trouble with that,” Daddy said. Mr. Bussey didn’t hear Father’s reply and thought that Father had not heard him. He spoke louder. “Can you get me some logs like you got for Moss?” Father answered. “We can start working on it in two weeks” Bussey looked rather alarmed. “They don’t look weak to me.” “No they will be good logs. Just let me know what you need.”
Again, Bussey didn’t hear Father’s answer and wondered if Bud Ward had heard him. He raised his voice. “Need? I need logs, house logs, and some rafters, and joists, and window framing.” “We can do it.” “That’s what I’m going to do.” His voice shook the room. A waitress pushed open the swinging door and looked at us questioningly.
Bussey shoved a paper across to Father, and mumbled. “He can’t hear a word I say.” Then he shouted at the top of his voice. “I’ll get Blufford Blye to do it. I just want you to get the timber.” Father studied the paper and shouted back, “We’ll get it by the end of the month.” “LOGS, HOUSE LOGS!” Bussey leaned over, cupped his hand around Father’s ear and shouted louder. “CAN YOU GET ME THOSE HOUSE LOGS?” My father’s face quivered. His eyes opened wide. Then he nodded his head, wrote down some pricing figures and handed to his potential customer. The deal was made. Bussey smiled and turned to Mother. “Better take him to a doctor,” he said, “I think his hearing has gone bad.”
We were sad to say goodbye to Aunt Betty but were anxious to be on the road again. It wasn’t long before we were seeing the vineyards of Napa Valley. Rows of lush green grape vines seemed to stretch for miles over the California hills. It was a stark contrast to adjoining uncultivated land that was harsh and dry. We drove through the famous valley and toured one of the wineries. It was fascinating to see the fermenting process and barrels of wine aging in the cellar.
A short distance beyond, we merged onto Scenic Highway 101 that runs for 1540 miles along the Pacific Coast from the Golden Gate to the tip of Washington. The highway passes through the world’s tallest preserves of old growth redwood trees, some of which reach 300-350 feet high. They are unlike the massive thick-trunked redwoods in Sequoia and Yosemite National Parks in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. There are 31 redwood state and national parks. There are even three live redwoods you can drive through.
Driving through Redwood National Park is like going through an enchanted realm. The road winds through clusters of redwood groves. Giants that rise straight and tall are kings in this Redwood kingdom. They make cars look like toys and people look like ants. The redwoods fight for survival, drawing life from the fallen. In one of the Redwood groves, we saw twelve trees growing out of one downed tree.
Coastal Redwood trees
We hiked one of the trails at The Trees of Mystery in Klamath and saw the Cathedral Tree which is made up of nine trees growing out of one with their tall spires that reach to the sky, Elephant Tree and various other sites. When we returned to the museum and gift shop located at the parking area, we heard someone say “hello” to the girl with the brown flannel shirt. That was me! I looked around and didn’t see anyone it could be. Well, no one except Paul Bunyan, and 50-foot statues don’t talk – or do they? Apparently, there was someone inside Paul Bunyan. Babe the Blue Ox stood next to giant lumberjack, but he didn’t say a word.
The coast of Northern California is gorgeous. Charming coastal towns invite travelers to explore their shops and dine in view of the Pacific Ocean. Crescent City is one of the towns where we stopped. Effects from the tsunami of 1964 could still be seen.
Further north high rocky cliffs jut out over the ocean. There is really no way to really describe the jagged shoreline. Waves crashed against the cliff walls and echoed like dominoes tumbling along the beach.
My mother was a fabricholic. Her addition was so severe, my father hesitated to encourage her in even the smallest manner. He would, on occasion, take her for a quick fix and would sit and watch people as he sat impatiently by the door of the fabric store. Mama walked down every row and satisfied her compulsion to touch every bolt of fabric. I think my father felt a bit guilty for being an enabler of her addition, but it was for his welfare to indulge her a bit.
At least once a year, in July, I gave my mother a birthday gift certificate redeemable for lunch and a trip to the fabric store. The closer we got to the store, the more excited she was. Even before she walked into the store, she already had her eye set on something. She was free to feel as much fabric as she wanted. Every piece of material she saw was analyzed with a touch of her fingers. Every color imaginable drew her gaze as she created quilts in her mind. Her selections were made, and she was happy.
Daddy got the day off all by himself. He could make his split pea soup green muffins for lunch if he liked and climb on the roof with no one to scold him. I thought it was little sacrifice for me to give him a reprieve. Besides, it wasn’t so bad following behind Mama down the rows. I could reach out both arms and feel the fabric on both sides all the way down the row.
Hmmm.. I’m starting to twitch and I think I’m getting an itch…….
Though California has a lot of people, there are still large portions of untamed wilderness and treasures of nature worth more than gold. From the golden sands of the desert to the fields of golden poppies, to golden sunsets over the Pacific Ocean, to the Golden Gate Bridge, to the abandoned ghost towns of the gold rush era, the state is full of wonder.
Our car did require a bit of maintenance along the way. It was a minor expense but that’s why we had our emergency fund. It was a short drive from Santa Monica to Santa Barbara which was our home for the next few days. Our visit there was a good one. We had good food and it was always fun to see Aunt Ellen. Though we didn’t get to see her often, we heard stories of her almost weekly. We got to spend some time with Indian Charlie, aka Willie, aka Billy, and his family. We visited them in their home and shared a picnic on the beach for Aunt Ellen’s birthday on July 4. That called for us going into the Pacific. It was very cold, and the seaweed wrapped around our legs like a giant sea monster grabbing us trying to pull us under the waves. That was enough for us to remain on the beach lined with seaweed. We also visited family of our current mayor who was living in the area. Downtown was just a short walk, so we went into town, visited Aunt Ellen, took in a movie and other sights.
Another cousin was next along our path for a one-night visit before we headed into the Sierra Nevada Mountains and to Martinez where we stayed with Aunt Betty. While there, we made an overnight trip into San Francisco and stayed with a former student of my favorite teacher. He worked nights and slept during the day. With a guide of places for us to visit, we crammed as much into the day as we could. Morrison’s Planetarium, Japanese Tea Gardens, Botanical Gardens, Fisherman’s Wharf, Golden Gate Bridge and Lombard Street, the curviest street in San Francisco, were a few of our destinations. Just a note – cable cars have no respect for vehicles or persons. Sister tried to outrun one. It’s a wonder we even survived. Our host said it wasn’t safe for us to take in China Town by ourselves, so he was our guide. We ate at an authentic Chinese Restaurant, visited little shops and saw lots of interesting sights. San Francisco was probably the most diverse melting pot in the state. We saw people of every kind, color, religion, and race.
Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco
We also made a trip into Yosemite National Park and to see the Giant Sequoias. Yosemite is in bear country. All through our campground were signs. We were very cautious about not leaving even a small morsel of food in our camp site. The park was absolutely breathtaking. Just seeing Half Dome standing tall and seemingly impregnable is worth the trip. We took various hikes in the park. One hike was to Mirror Lake. We packed a lunch and hiked up the trail. As we got closer to the lake, I noticed reflections through the trees. When we reached the end of the trail, it was evident what caused the reflections – cars. There was a parking lot! We could have driven there. We needed the exercise anyway. Our picnic lunch was very tasty after the hike and the view was wonderful. After a semi-dip in the lake, we headed back to the campground. We camped there for two nights and headed back to Martinez for a couple more days before heading off again, stopping to experience the Giant Sequoias. Unless you stand under one of them, it’s hard to imagine just how big they are. I think majestic is the best way to describe these ancient giants.
That’s not the end of this tale. More to follow……….
I bet that whoever is reading this now does not have a front (or back) yard that is bigger than my Maga’s. 11 acres of thick, green grass with lots of trees (some stolen from national forests…shhh), and more flowers than I can even imagine. A huge front and back porch, looking over a hilly yard. Looks like it’s straight out of “The Sound of Music” starring Julie Andrews. But, it all has to be kept in pristine condition to look as awesome as it always does, and since it’s getting warmer and Puppa is still out of commission, it’s my turn to take care of it. Me, Viv, the girl who screams and runs at the sight of any flying bug because of a past incident (another story for later ;)). Me, Viv, who can get sunburnt in JANUARY (like what the heck). Me, Viv, the girl who doesn’t always pay attention to where she is going, so she runs into a tree, all while savoring Maga’s famous homemade bread. So, naturally, I thought, “I’ve got this” and proceeded to mount the zero-turn lawnmower.
Maud’s Julie Andrews impersonation
I actually got the hang of it pretty quick, but at the same time, I was mowing the grass of FLAT ground. As I slowly mowed, section by section, of Maga’s yard (over the course of several days), I finally got to… the front yard. Although this lawn and its inhabitants are absolutely gorgeous, it looks pretty terrifying on a 750 pound vehicle that I just learned how to operate 2 days earlier.
Puppa had said before, “If there’s mud, don’t go any farther.” Well, this man takes such good care of his grass and yard that YOU CAN’T SEE THE MUD THROUGH THE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, GREEN GRASS (do I seem bitter to you?). But I proceeded bravely into the unknown, armed with basically a pair of motorized scissors and my headphones (along with A LOT of sunscreen), I set off. Terrified. But excited because I knew that I was going to do this and do it like a total boss. The first few ups and downs on the hill were okay. Then, out of nowhere, on my way back up the substantially sized hill, my motor turned off. I looked around, eyes big, and I felt my breathing quicken. With the wheels slowly creaking backwards, I pushed the handles. Nothing. So, I did what any brave and superb lawn caretaker does…
I called my mom.
But, she didn’t answer, so I called my dad. And started to cry because I knew I didn’t have enough money to pay for the supposed damages I caused to the automated pair of scissors. Pretty soon, here comes my mom running really fast, like a graceful gazelle with a tattoo on its shoulder. And my dad too. He comes running like… um… another animal that I can’t think of at the moment. With tattoos too.
Anyways, they come up to me, breathing hard, looking at my wet eyes and runny nose, and while my mom said, “I thought you had flipped over!”, my dad said, “I actually ran over here and you aren’t even hurt.” Then he proceeded to get me out of the chair and turn the mower on with a turn of the key. We had a good laugh about that, but I was kinda embarrassed.
After that, I proceeded with EXTREME caution. I wasn’t about to have the gazelle and… mystery animal (aka my dad), come running to turn on the lawn mower…again. I finished my job, however. But not without some troubles. The grass was wet, so the wheels on lawnmower went round and round, tossing mud and grass into the air (I should write songs :)). And, finally, I had to mow the hill… sideways. Which is what I didn’t feel comfortable with, but Puppa told me to, so I did it. He is the master lawn keeper, after all. It wasn’t bad, but Maga and Puppa now have a few tire marks in their yard (whoops).
Well… At least I can say that I did it.
And it was actually pretty fun…kinda scary…but mostly fun 😉
There was nothing like all of us kids climbing in the car for our adventure to the Northwest. The energy was high and we were all excited. The road trip began. Every time we stopped for gas, we all piled out of the car to stretch our legs and take a potty break. Before all eight of us had our turn, somebody was sure to be dancing outside the door hollering, “Hurry up!”
Remember going in the old bathrooms behind the gas stations, the ones with the rolling cloth towel dispenser?
The toilets were bad enough. I would line the seat with toilet paper. I don’t know if it helped, but it sure made me feel better. The rolling towels were another story. Even as a kid I cringed. On occasion, the towel looked clean and was nice and straight. Other times it was evident that the same towel went round and round as it recycled itself, often twisted to one side and definitely soiled. Talk about germs! The towel might have been dry, but it sure wasn’t clean.
Maybe all the other dirt we played in, the shared drinks, the snotty noses wiped on sleeves, coughing wide open, and putting our fingers in our mouths counteracted the germs on the dirty towels.
It wasn’t hard to drive away from the Grand Canyon. We had seen so many fascinating less traveled places, we weren’t willing to fight the crowd to see the canyon. We did stop and take one picture. Now don’t be alarmed. I certainly would never belittle one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. After all, there aren’t many places you go and see signs that say, “Mountain Lion Crossing.” That has to count for something! The canyon is 277 miles long and averages 10 miles wide. It is definitely a wonder! I’ve been back to the Grand Canyon on other occasions. It is a magnificent canyon full of mystery and color. Every crevasse and fold of the cliff walls hold hidden secrets and are full of intrigue and adventure. That area of the country – Northern Arizona and Southern Utah with their red rimmed cliffs and canyons – is a “must see.”
The Grand Canyon
We made camp somewhere in the dark that seemed to come earlier that night. The next morning, the heat pounded down. There was no relief without clouds in the sky to block the sun’s rays. It was a hot and dusty non-eventful day headed west. We arrived at the campground in Needles, California, just over the state line. As we pulled into our camp site, we both saw blue water. The first thing we did was jump in the pool. Ahhh – what a relief. That was our first opportunity for that! Our dry flaky skin cried out, “Thank you! Thank you!” It was time to get another bottle or two of lotion! We wondered if our skin would ever be moisturized again.
One thing that amazed me in our travels was not just the changing scenery, but also the changing building materials. Adobe homes with red Spanish Tile roofs were common in the desert areas. Spacious sprawling one level adobe homes with stone floors looked inviting to offer a cool place to enter on a hot day. The yards were landscaped with plants suitable for that climate – Yucca, various cacti, succulents, drought tolerant grasses and flowers and stones, lots of stones. Those homes were gorgeous and perfectly suited for the climate and landscape.
There was more desert in front of us as we turned the car toward the Pacific Coast. We made a quick stop and took a short hike in Joshua Tree National Park. If I had expected to see trees like in the Southeast, I would have been deeply disappointed. The trees looked like something in a Dr. Seuss tale. They were scrubby and misshaped and looked like they could sure use a drink.
As we drove further west, the traffic increased. Soon there was a mass of cars filled with drivers speeding and swerving like madmen. I began to feel claustrophobic as cars surrounded us at top speeds and pushed us forward. The closer we got to Los Angeles, the more people we saw. It seemed there were as many people on the roads as there were the grains of sand we had seen in the desert. I was about to opt for the desert.
Santa Monica was our first stop to visit family. We stayed with cousins Anna and Kitty and their cat that sat in their plates on the dining room table and ate off the counter in the kitchen. They instructed us in the “proper” way to make a bed. While there, we took in some of the usual tourist highlights. We visited Universal Studios. When we went in the entrance to the studios, we were greeted by Jaws hanging by the gate. His mouth was opened wide with sharp teeth reflecting the sun. The movie had been released days before. It was interesting to see movie sets and hear how many of the special effects are created. We went to Grauman’s Chinese Theater on the historic Hollywood Walk of Fame and saw handprints and footprints of some of the movie stars. There were even a few horse hoof imprints.
Cousins
More cousins
Another cousin took us sailing on the Pacific. It was fun, but I didn’t wear that shade of green very well! It was definitely different than sailing on Lake Hartwell. One of my favorite tourist stops was the LaBrea Tar Pits. It was like stepping into the Ice Age – without the ice. There were displays of mammoths trapped in the tar and accounts of expeditions that led to the discovery. Bubbling tar spat and sputtered as it rose to the top of the ground. That took me back to when I was a kid popping tar bubbles with my bare feet on the hot road. We could have spent more time there, but our journey awaited.
taken from “Listening for God” by my Guest Author, my Daddy
Sometimes we hear but we do not really pay attention. We lack discernment.
That was discernment that my daddy had. We lived way back in the mountains of Montana and didn’t go to town often. When we did it was always an adventure.
We could be coming home, I’d say, “Stop, Daddy, stop! There’s a mama pig and her babies.” Daddy didn’t stop.
Sister Barbara would say, “Stop, there’s a pinto pony.” Daddy drove on.
Then sister Ellen would whisper, “I gotta frow up” The car would come to a screeching halt.
From New Mexico into Arizona we visited dwellings in the cliffs of natives who survived harsh conditions in this dry western beautiful land. We still had more places to see. Our desert trek continued as we turned northeast from Flagstaff.
One site on our list of places to visit was Meteor Crater. It was created during the time the land was inhabited by wooly mammoths and giant ground sloths. A meteor hit the earth traveling at approximately 29,000 mph, the impact similar to a nuclear bomb blast. We grew up hearing stories of our Great Grandparents’ trek from New Mexico to Montana in 1895-96. Some of the roads we traveled were along the same route. When the family passed near Meteor Crater in 1895, Uncle Ed and Uncle Dolph took a side road to see the sight. So did we! It was quite impressive.
As we drove further, desert rose to small hills. We entered the realm of ancient trees turned to stone, the Petrified Forest. A series of events made conditions right to create stone from wood. Fallen trees and branches were buried by flooded river sediments and blanketed with volcanic ash. Trees went through the process of petrification, wood turning to stone. Some of the petrified trees are colorful and contain various crystals of a myriad of colors, showing off the grain of the wood. I can’t even imagine how all the forces of nature came together to form such a work of art. Adjoining the Petrified Forest is the Painted Desert. The various hues and colors stretch for miles as mounds of soft pastel shades, and formations of colorful strata seems to erupt from the barren ground. These preserved areas were favorites of my mother, second only to the Badlands, which she called “God’s Cathedral.”
Petrified Forest
Painted Desert
We rode further into another unique landscape like we had not seen before – Canyon deChelly National Monument. The canyons were cut from streams flowing from the Chuska Mountains. What a fascinating place! Steep red sandstone cliffs stood as regal sentries on these Navajo tribal lands. The towering red walls seemed to form a barrier of protection for the Navajo families who still inhabit their tribal home. Canyon walls that protect the dwellings in the cliffs looked like freshly polished red cedar, exposing every grain of the rich red tones. The ruins from the Native Americans who lived here continue to be preserved. On the canyon floor surrounded by the cliffs was a hogan, a traditional dwelling of the Navajo people. That piqued my interest. The hogan was round and covered with red mud. It traditionally opens to the east to get the morning sun and to receive good blessings. The canyon is one of the longest continuously inhabited landscapes in North America.
Spruce House, Mesa Verde National Park
We entered New Mexico again and drove north through the Navajo Nation into Southwest Colorado to Mesa Verde National Park. The park was established in 1906 to preserve the heritage of the ancestral Pueblo people who lived in the area for over seven hundred years. There are nearly five thousand archaeological sites protected in the park, including at least six hundred cliff dwellings. Theses ancients’ homes are some of the best preserved in the United States. Just standing there looking high in the cliffs at the homes of these ancient Cliff Dwellers brought a sense of awe. I tried to imagine them descending ladders through the roofs to their homes. Pueblo women laid vegetables out to dry in the sun while some ground corn into meal. They harvested wild plants to add to their diet that included squash, maize, beans and wild game. The women also wove baskets and made pottery.
Sleeping Ute Mountain
The view from Mesa Verde was spectacular in every direction. In the distance the Sleeping Ute Mountain rested lazily seemingly unconcerned that the ancient people had gone. We made our way to Four-Corners which is the quadripoint where Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah meet. A dirt devil blew across the desert kicking up dust and debris. We enjoyed the performance as the miniature tornado twirled and danced with the desert grasses.
By the time we reached the Grand Canyon, we were hot and tired. The roads and canyon were infested with tourists. We could take no more! We took a picture and drove on, skirting around travelers, dodging cars and finally breathing a sigh of relief as we left the colorful canyon and millions of people behind.
