Category: Adventures with family

Cross Country (Part Twelve)

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Leaving Uncle Sid’s place wasn’t so bad because we had Uncle Sid with us as we headed to Big Sky Country. We left behind Hurricane Ridge where we had our adventure with Chuley (the dog) and Uncle Sid. We passed Dungeness Spit, between Port Angeles and Sequim, along the Strait of Juan de Fuca where we had walked the beach with Aunt Lois. The Strait, named for the sailor who reputedly discovered it for Spain in 1592, separates Vancouver from the Olympic Peninsula. We drove along the road that curved around Discovery Bay, then took the ferry from Port Townsend crossing the northern end of Puget Sound, called Admiralty Inlet, to the town of Coupeville on Whidbey Island.  

Though we had driven along much of the coast from California to Washington, this land of waterways was still foreign to me, though no less fascinating. Standing on the deck of the ferry with the wind and spray of salt water in my face was somehow refreshing and relaxing. The small town of Coupeville was interesting. Years later, I visited that area again. There was just something special about eating in a quaint café that stands on stilts. Big windows allowed for a view of Historic Coupeville Wharf while looking out across the inlet as birds dove into the water to catch their next meal or foraged along the shore covered with rocks and shells. The sounds of birds and foghorns, the smell of salty air and the décor of nets, anchors, fishing relics and shells, all reflected the atmosphere to match the weather-beaten clapboard buildings of the coastal town – laid back, hospitable, rustic. 

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We crossed the emerald green waters of Deception Pass. It wasn’t long before we followed the Skagit River and heard the Northern Cascades call our names. I have had the opportunity to travel that road more than once, even into the Canadian Cascades. That is beautiful country. One thing that surprised me was the color of the water, especially the larger bodies of water. It was really evident in the waters of Diablo Lake. The emerald color is so intense because of the surrounding glaciers that grind rocks into powder, called glacial flour. It stays suspended in the lake, giving it that brilliant color. The lake, also called “Emerald Lake,” has been described as the “emerald-green jewel of the Northern Cascades.” Words don’t give it justice. How can I paint a picture with words to display the beauty and wonder of such a place? 

The road wandered through the mountains, sometimes the curves so sharp we almost met ourselves on the other side. Douglas fir, redcedar, western hemlock and spruce trees dominated the forests of the Cascades. Alpine meadows opened up to display their splash of color as a variety of wildflowers bloomed and raised their faces to the sun, glad to shake off the cold. The wind blew high in the trees, slowing as it descended into the valley and danced over the emerald green waters of the lake and creeks. Waterfalls cascaded down the mountainside and joined other streams that bounded into the valleys below.

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I didn’t know until many years later, specifically in the Winthrop area, that we traveled through part of the country that holds one of the mysteries of my Great Great Grandfather on my mom’s side of the family. That’s a story for another day. Our road took us past Coulee Dam and into Idaho. We stopped somewhere near Coeur d’Alene to visit another Great Uncle, my Grandfather’s brother, on my mom’s side of the family. He wasn’t home. So, what did we do? We opened the door, went in the house, got a drink of water and left a note on the table. We were sorry to miss him. I had only seen him once or twice and would have loved to have been able to know him a bit better. 

We didn’t wait long because we were anxious to get to Big Timber. With Uncle Sid telling us family stories and other tales, it seemed the time flew by. Memories were triggered as we passed through each part of the state. Oh, how I wish I had all those stories recorded! Just being in Montana made me feel like I was home. To see it with Uncle Sid riding shotgun made it exponentially more special. What a great treasure! Before long, we turned into my Grandmother’s driveway. And so began another series of fortunate adventures in Big Sky Country! 

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The map program won’t let me track the road through the National Park but we took the road from Diablo Lake to Winthrop where the second map picks up.

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Part Eleven Part Thirteen

Cross Country (Part Eleven)

Our ride along the coast and through the mountains had been full of adventure and gorgeous scenery. Even our stops in the big cities had been eye-opening adventures for two young girls traveling across the country. After visiting a great uncle on my mother’s side of the family, we headed to another great uncle on our father’s side. We had seen him several times before. He was no stranger. He lived in the shadow of the Olympic Mountains and being with him was always and adventure!

It wasn’t hard to recognize Uncle Sid. On a clear day, you could see Uncle Sid for miles away. He was easily identified by the hat that had formed to his head. It was just as weathered and worn as its owner. His walk also gave him away. For one thing, even at a distance, you could see daylight between his bowlegs. That’s what years of sitting in the saddle on the back of a horse will do. He didn’t back down from even the roughest toughest bronc and dared it to cross him. I would guess he sat in a saddle long before he could even walk. Animals of all kinds did his bidding at a mere word or silent request. His horse Jughead counted with his hoof or stuck out his tongue on command.

Uncle Sid was full of jokes. Little kids would run and hide under the table whenever they heard he was coming. When they poked their heads out to see this legend, they were rewarded with ears wiggling out from beneath an old cowboy hat, a contorted face, or forefingers stuck in the man’s ears with the others wiggling. Solemn soulful eyes belied the playful youthfulness of the aged man. He was full of fun and he told stories just like other members of the family. His straight face didn’t even twitch a tiny bit as he told some wild tale.

You can read some of our adventures with him in a previous post What Does A Cowboy Look Like? All of our experiences with him horseback riding, rounding up cattle and almost getting thrown out of Olympic National Park were unforgettable. We enjoyed seeing his saddle collection. He had a story of each saddle – when and where it was made, who it belonged to, what it was used for, how he acquired it and the history that went along with it. We spent time with him and Jughead, went with him several places and explored the countryside. I feel sorry for any little kid that didn’t grow up with great uncles. We had a blast! 

Another perk was seeing Aunt Lois. Somehow, I didn’t think she and Uncle Sid matched. She wasn’t as boisterous as Uncle Sid. She took us on adventures, too. We went to Dungeness Spit and hiked on the beach. We picked boysenberries that we put on her homemade Cream Puffs topped with fresh whipped cream. She cooked fresh wild salmon on the wood cookstove in the kitchen that was the best I’ve ever had. Aunt Lois was an adventurer herself. She loved the outdoors and was an avid backpacker and backwoods camper. 

We went as far northwest as we could go without skipping over to Alaska. Backed into the corner of the lower 48, it was time to launch out toward the east. Our destination was Big Timber, Montana. Uncle Sid said he would be headed there in just a few days. As we talked, we asked him if he just wanted to ride with us. He studied the situation a few moments and said, “Sure.” I felt a bit proud to be traveling with a famous celebrity. After all, he was a famous bucking bronc rider and Grand Marshall of the Big Timber Rodeo Parade.

We rearranged a few things in the car. We had picked up a huge chunk of driftwood that we hauled up the cliffs along the Oregon coast as well as a Redwood slab to use for a tabletop. When everything was shifted, there was room for Uncle Sid and his belongings. I climbed into the back and managed to wiggle in between the mountain of gear and other things we had accumulated. I was fine as long as I could see out the window. As we pulled out, we waved goodbye to Aunt Lois who stood in the shadow of the Olympics.

Part Ten Part Twelve

Cross Country (Part Ten)

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The emerald waters of the Pacific pounded the cliffs of the Southern Oregon coast. I had only seen pictures of the rugged Pacific coastline. We had seen the golden sands of Southern California beaches made famous in song, and I lost nothing at the seashore filled with masses of kelp monsters washing onto the shore (though time with family was priceless). Not being a thalassophile, I had no problem leaving that behind. The rough coastline of southern Oregon was more to my liking. The jagged cliffs and rocky formations consumed the shoreline that separated land from ocean. They took on their own unique characteristics and offered a perch to sit and look out over the mesmerizing watery expanse that surged with the tide. We stopped and watched the fog dissipate as the cool salty breeze washed over us. The masses of people were left far behind and we relished in the solitude and the unobstructed view. 

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Though there were not hordes of people, there were other inhabitants in this domain. We visited one such place and it was very noisy. The Sea Lion Caves was an entertaining stop. Sea lions of all sizes applauded us and honked and grunted. Their flippers flipped out like appendages as they waddled across rocks and disappeared beneath the incoming waves. They weren’t like the performing Orcas or trained seals we had seen show off at Marineland. I guess if someone had thrown the sea lions a ball, we would have been spectators of a good game. They were fun to visit and barked “come back again,” when we left.

When we got closer to Portland, snowy Mt. Hood glistened in the distance. The air was cool and clear which offered quite a view. We continued into Washington and drove through Mt. Rainier National Park. As we rode up and down the winding road, we got a closer view of the mountain. The mountainsides wept as waterfalls spilled over the edges and merged with streams that bounded into the valleys below. Mt. Rainier was gorgeous. I only have one photo of the mountain from that trip. That was my kind of country! You can have the sandy beaches. I’ll take the mountains!

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Our mountaintop experience came to an end as we descended into the valley. Kent was our next stop. We arrived at Uncle George’s house. Some might think it odd that two young girls traveling across the country would choose to stay with their 82-year-old great uncle for a few days. We had grown up with tales of our family history and knew that uncles were special.  He lived within walking distance of a little café. We had several meals there during our stay with him. At first, we were a bit intimidated. He was a crusty bachelor with a dry humor. I studied him a bit to determine the best way to approach him. He had some similar personality traits of his sister, my Grandmother, so soon we had him buttered up. He took us various places and we had a blast. I have a suspicion that he did, too. I’m so glad we spent time with him and feel much richer for having done it. He died the next year. One of my greatest possessions is a teacup and saucer that belonged to Uncle George. It was special to share hot tea at his table and I am reminded of it when I drink from his cup. 

One of our side trips was to Seattle. For anyone who has been there, you know that the Space Needle is a city landmark and icon of Seattle. It was built in 1962 for the World’s Fair. The needle was once the tallest structure west of the Mississippi River. It was built to withstand 200 mph winds and earthquakes of 9.0 magnitude. The Space Needle opened in 1962 along with the monorail that was built at the same time. We went in the heart of the city and boarded the monorail, along with many other visitors, for the ride to the Space Needle. Big windows on the elevated train and the Space Needle allowed wonderful views of the city, the Pacific waters and the mountains beyond. We also visited the Government Locks and made a stop at REI where we gathered a few camping supplies. I think we could have stayed in REI for days. 

Once again, it was time to go forward. 

Port Angeles and Uncle Sid, here we come!

Part Nine Part Eleven

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Cross Country (Part Nine)

There is nothing quite like visiting an area with a local as your tour guide, especially when the guide is Cousin Donna who likes to go hiking and camping and likes adventures. She lived in Brookings, Oregon. I’ve already told you about Cousin Donna in a previous post. Her story actually goes right here in the Cross Country series.

Brookings is just north of the California Oregon border. We backtracked with Cousin Donna into Northern California and explored more of the Redwoods and coastline from Pamplin Grove near Fortuna to Cape Sebastian. Sis and I had previously stopped at a roadside Bigfoot shop somewhere in that part of the country. The redwood forest would definitely be a good place for Bigfoot to hide, though I think the rain forest of Washington is a more favorable location. Regardless, the Redwoods were the perfect place to camp. We met up with several cousins – Dixie’s family & the Leepers – at the campground which made it extra special. (We had already spent time with Cousin Diane & family). We started our campfire to take off the chill of the evening and to cook our supper. The three of us crawled into our two-man tent for the night’s sleep. That was probably the softest forest mattress I’ve every slept on. I didn’t have to dodge a single rock during the night. The sounds of the deep forest were soothing. Birds and sounds from other forest animals mingled with the dancing music of the Smith River. Very little moisture settled on the tent under the thick canopy of branches and needles. After a bite of breakfast and packing stuff away, it was time to do more exploring. That included the beaches of the area.

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We were prone to stop wherever there was a pull off or just an inviting spot beside the road. We stopped at Pebble Beach near Crescent City. There were occasional windblown trees hanging on the sides of cliffs or a lone cypress bowed in the breeze braving the weather on top of an eroded island just offshore. 

Cousin Donna wrapped up in her jacket and scarf when we walked the beach along Cape Sebastian. We walked through an opening in the rock as we walked through the sand and pebbles. The tide started coming in, so we hurried back to the same opening before it got swallowed up by the ocean. There were interesting formations of rocks and cliffs weathered by time, wind and water. The erosion process certainly produces character.

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As the sun descended in the sky, we made our way to Harris Beach. Piles of driftwood lay on the beach, some pieces on top of the other and some scattered around. Whole trees were uprooted and thrown onto the beach. Smaller roots, logs and limbs rested in strange positions. Some had holes worn all the way through. We sat silent, watched the mesmerizing waves, and were amazed by the blazing evening colors that settled briefly above the ocean that looked like it fell off the face of the earth. The contorted limbs and sticks looked eerie in the growing shadows. Soon the color faded, and darkness consumed the last glimmer of light. 

Though our time with Cousin Donna came to an end, our adventure was far from over. Catch up with us as we travel the Pacific Northwest.

Part Eight Part Ten

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Cross Country ( Part Eight)

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.

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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. 

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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. 

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Part Seven Part Nine

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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.

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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.

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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…….

Cross Country (Part Seven)

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. 

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……….

Part Six. Part Eight

Cross Country (Part Six)

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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.”

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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.

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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.

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Part Five Part Seven

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Cross Country (Part Five)

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.”

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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. 

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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.

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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.

Poem written by my sister

Part Four          Part Six