Valley of Fire

After our brief look at this vibrant State Park during the week that we were in Las Vegas, we decided to take a couple of days to explore it further. It was 10 hours of driving to get there from Fresno, California, along major highways and through several cities, including Las Vegas. We got to the main gate before the closing time of 5pm, but were much too late to get any electrical sites. That’s okay, we wanted to try “dry camping” anyway, especially because hubby had purchased a new generator just for this type of event, and was dying to try it out. It was one of the toys, um, tools he had picked up last fall.

There was a circular road in the campground with sites side by side, and at the far end was a branching road that wound through the rocks. We couldn’t see where that other road ended up and didn’t want to attempt it in case there was no easy way out of it. So we choose one of the sites in the circle. These sites were not made for big RVs and our longer trailer would not have fit. Good thing we brought the shorter one. We could just squeeze the truck in sideways in front of it.

My first impression once we settled was one of peace. Far from the generator noise I had anticipated, and the electronic hum of electric sites, there was beautiful silence. Stunning red rocks encircled the camping area. Even though most of the sites in our area were occupied, everything was quiet. Later in the evening, while campfires burned, subdued voices and laughter echoed off the surrounding rocks, but were not intrusive. 

The next morning we were up early and decided to walk along the road that branched off of the campground. It was then that we realized our error of not following it the night before. The sites along this road were more spacious and longer and also much more private from their neighbors. The road itself curved around and came back out on the access road we drove in on. While very long rigs would have had a hard time negotiating the narrow, rocky turns, our outfit would have been perfect. Maybe next time. 

After our breakfast we dashed off to do some hikes in this beautiful area. The trails are usually easy to follow, being a mixture of sand and rocks. We descended one rockfall and walked through a narrow canyon to come out the other side. 

It was incredible, the kaleidoscope of colours around us. White and red streaks in the rocks were the dominant shades, but there were also pinks, yellows, and gorgeous lavender stones as well.

All this was in a valley that is surrounded by grey mountains, known as the Muddy Mountains. What a great hiding place!  

A favourite walk for many is the Fire Wave. It is one big platform of rock, in swirling shapes and colours.  As you walk over and around the area, you see different views. All of them amazing.

 

  One section looked like someone had spilled paint on the top and it ran down the sides. 

In others the streaks were right underfoot.  

We also saw petroglyphs etched into rocks. These were very high off the ground and it made you wonder how the ancients had managed to put them there. 

But you understood why they had wanted to come there. Valley of Fire is a lovely state park.  

And then we met her big sister, Zion National Park.

W

Leaving Before We're Kicked Out

I think it’s time to leave.

After two full months of her house in turmoil, my sister-in –law is bound to kick us out if we don’t make the first move. 

We emptied her living room and put all the furniture, save for the essential couch and tv, into the garage.  Her home was infused with the incense of fresh paint. You could never be sure that the closest bathroom was in working order. Air vents could fall from the ceiling with no warning.

And all she wanted was new flooring.

I’m horrible at getting “before” pictures.  I rarely get the chance to take them. Hubby tends to jump in with both feet before my feet are even in the doorway. In running to catch up, the best I can do is to document the chaos that follows.

The logic goes like this: If we’re going to change the living room carpet, we may as well paint the room first. The walls of the living room flow into the kitchen, stairway and upstairs hall with no break.

Unlike my multi-disciplined hubby, I’m pretty single talented. I can paint. So I had very little chance of getting away with a California holiday this winter.

Once the painting was done, we removed the old, and now splattered, carpet. With the carpet removed, we ordered the laminate flooring that was going to replace it. Hmmm, it’s a two week wait for the order.  No worries.  The irresistible force moves on.

While waiting for the living room flooring to arrive, it was decided to put new stick-on tiles over the old kitchen linoleum, since the kitchen had also been painted. There were enough tiles left over to do the two small bathrooms and the toilet stall in the master bath. But since that involves removing toilets, we replaced the old toilets, and, hey, why not the sinks, too. And if you change the sinks, you might as well get new faucets, right?

In the old story of the knee bone being connected to the hip bone, if we don’t leave soon, dear sister-in-law may be paying for a whole new house.

I think it’s time to leave.

W

PS. The house looks beautiful.  Sister-in-law breathes a sigh of relief.

Diners and Joynts

We haven’t eaten out much on this trip to California. And I am far from being a creditable food critic. I eat what’s put in front of me, usually by my enthusiastic, stove-warmed hubby. He decided many long years ago that what I considered cooking, just wasn’t, and so he took the high road of making the meals for both of us.

But there were a few times that we paid for the honour of someone else standing over the hot stove.  A late meal at Olive Garden after a long evening at Home Depot looking at porcelain thrones.  A pizza after painting the kitchen.

And then there are the meals to remember. 

We took the ferry to San Francisco with friends, and although throughout the boat ride we were enveloped in the famous bay fog, once on land, the sun encouraged us to walk the two miles to our destination restaurant. Tommy’s Joynt had been featured on the TV show “Diners and Dives”. What better reason to try it ourselves?

We almost overlooked it on the street, even though it was right on the corner. Impressive, it wasn’t. The food was served cafeteria style, and the main dining area had picnic tables where singles and groups alike would sit. It was dark and gloomy inside, and the doorway was partially blocked by a few people lining up for food.

As a foursome, we scored a booth in the back and were immediately greeted by the bar waitress. Actually, I should have said “beer waitress” because although they did have a small wine list, the beer stock was amazing.  And that lovely lady knew every beer they had, what country it came from, and what it was like.  I can imagine that training new employees for that job would take on the atmosphere of a party.

We arrived on purpose on the day they were serving braised lamb. The meat was falling-off-the-bone tender, and the helpings were large. We dallied over our lunch, enjoying the portions, the pints, and the people we were with.

The next great meal was a lot farther up the coast, and on the edge of a bay well known for its oyster farms. Hog Island Oyster Co. provides the very basic necessities to enjoy their wares. A picnic table, a grill, and a shucking knife and glove.  Our friends, obviously frequent visitors, supplied the niceties.  Like the wine and glasses, the bread and cheese, and the garlic butter, lemon and wine vinegar for the oysters and clams. It was a veritable feast when we added the shrimp skewers, salmon filets, and grilling vegetables to the list. When the bright sunshine came out to lift both spirits and temperature, it was just like the garlic butter on the oyster for us.

Now, I admit that I am a total newbie when it comes to oysters. I had no idea that there were so many ways to enjoy them. The first few were slurped down raw, with a drop of lemon. The taste comes not from the oyster, which is pretty rubbery and bland, but from the brine of the sea water inside. Then we roasted some over the coals. If you put them on just the way they come, they will pop open themselves when they are cooked. Or they can be opened and grilled over the barbeque with a garlic butter topping.

Opening an oyster is not an easy endeavour. First you have to find the opening. Now, oysters are not pretty and neat like clams. They are craggy and rough, and it is hard to tell whether it is the lip you are prying at, or just one of the many ridges.  Because of the sharp object poking at their shells, these shellfish keep their lips locked together as tight as a virgin’s knees…..  oops.  Teehee. Too many oysters today, I guess.

Well, to me, food is only the side dish after all. The company contributes more to the meal than the bounty on the table. And on this trip, we had family and friends that made our meals divine. Thanks, folks!

W

Bright Lights and Red Rocks

Vegas. 

A dazzling example of the phrase, “over the top”.

As we descended the hills towards Las Vegas, the lights sparkled in all directions and in all colours. Coming from the darkness of the empty desert mountains, the city seemed to encompass the entire valley.

We were lucky to get an overview of the Strip on our way along the highway. Close up, the lights were even brighter and more colourful than they had seemed from afar.

Las Vegas is not a large city.  As a metropolis, its residents merely number in the few hundred thousands.  But it took us two very full days and evenings to merely touch on the highlights of this exaggerated splendor.  To see as much as we could, we concentrated our adventures to the casinos with the biggest names. “If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all” doesn’t necessarily apply in this scenario. Each of the casinos on our list had their own quirks and charms. The only constant was being forced to walk through the smoky gambling areas in order to reach the interesting shops, the artistic displays, and the theatres.

Being the frugal retirees that we are, we searched out all the free entertainment available. There is an animated show in Caesar’s Palace, the delightful musical fountains of Bellagio, and the amusing antics of people that come to enjoy places like this. We hadn’t realized that our last few days fell on a long holiday weekend in the United States. Earlier in the week, a walk down the main street was comfortable and parking was easy to find. On Saturday, the eight solid lanes of traffic downtown and the masses of humanity squeezing themselves along the walkways and sidewalks made it hard to travel around. We found an early parking spot and walked the Strip for the rest of the day.

The Luxor was intriguing, with the Egyptian Sphinx and temple surrounded by the oblique interior walls of the pyramid. What looks small in the picture actually holds several stores and a large empty space for milling about. Also, to put it in perspective, the horizontal lines on the interior of the pyramid are the hallways to the hotelrooms.

NewYorkNewYork was actually fairly real to life, being closed in and dark, and with lots of little restaurants and cafes littering the promenade. It certainly felt like the streets of New York.

The Venetian was a favourite. The painted concave ceiling created the illusion of sky. The little storefronts along the streetscape were charming and we enjoyed watching the gondoliers poling their craft down the tiny indoor canal while occasionally bursting out in song. As you can see from the emptiness of the shops, this was early in the week.

Many of the casinos were starting to change their seasonal decorations to reflect the approaching Chinese New Year s. In honour of the Year of the Horse, statues of proud steeds and glittering stallions were positioned in the lobbies. We, however, were riding our feet. And those tootsies were getting very tired.  Very few restaurants struck our fancy. Most of the ones inside the casinos were overpriced and busy. A shrimp palace called “Bubba Gump Shrimp Co.” and another place known as “Cheesecake Factory” suited our tastes and our finances. Seems you can’t go wrong with seafood and dessert.

We saw two shows while in Vegas, a Celine Dion concert that showcased her powerful singing, and a very entertaining Cirque du Soleil show, “O”.  Both were extremely enjoyable. And Canadian.  Bonus.

The people we met, in seats beside us, or on the scenic overlooks on the roads, were often Canadian. In fact, there were a few that lived very close to our Ontario roots - a couple from Kingston, and a man from Tweed. Small world, indeed.

Meanwhile, we were very glad that our accommodations were well off the Strip. It was quieter and definitely calmer. It was also closer to other attractions that we appreciated after such overt largess, things a little more up our alley. Red Rock Canyon was an afternoon’s drive, but a whole world away from the glitter of downtown. Especially intriguing were the crossing signs for the desert tortoise and wild burros. Despite our best efforts, we saw neither one.

Another relaxing day was spent driving through the Valley of Fire State Park. We found a place to picnic near a short hiking trail where petroglyphs had been etched along the red canyon walls. There were many unique rock formations in vibrant colours all around us, and it was warm and sunny.  A perfect time and place for a picnic.

The lights of Vegas may rule the night, but as an early riser, I was more impressed by the brilliant red on the cliffs at dawn.

Talk about “over the top”.

W

Fixin' to stay

We did head north, but it was a much more leisurely trip than our last month of travelling. We finally had time to slow down and enjoy the ride. The weather was sunny and dry, warm in the afternoons and cool at night. Ideal weather for travelling the week before Christmas.

We drove up through the San Joaquin Valley, the green grocers of California. With mountains on both sides, this huge valley is flat and fertile. Big fields of crops are on both sides of the highway, intersected by the aqueducts bringing water from the mountains in the north.  Orchards of citrus and pistachio trees are planted in mechanically precise rows and stretch over large areas. Most fields and orchards are bare of any identifying marks, so the game going down the road is “what do you think is growing here?” Occasionally the name of the farm gives us an obvious clue, but rarely did we see anything as blatant as this citrus grove, which spelled out in big signs whether the trees were “lemon”, “orange”, or “mandarin”.

The aqueduct system was built in the ‘60s. An engineering marvel, it turned the valley from the semi-arid desert that it used to be into productive land. It spreads throughout the entire 450 mile length of the valley in a series of canals and pumping stations to get the water to agricultural fields and urban centers alike. Hubby, of course, merely looked on it as a likely place to do some fishing. Unfortunately for our dinner that night, the water was low and the only one successfully catching fish was a blue heron along the canal.

We stopped at the large San Luis Reservoir that holds the water before it flows down along the canals and aqueducts to the south. The state recreation area that surrounds the reservoir is used both for fishing and boating in the reservoir itself, and for hiking and camping in the hills around it. On our hike to the top of one of the hills, we were lucky enough to see a small sample of the elk that had been reintroduced into this area in 1974.

It was a short trip to our final stop of 2013.  The fridge in the trailer was emptied and our clothes moved out for the 2 months we plan to be here. The trailer is being stored, rather than us living in it this time. We settled into my sister-in-law’s house, taking full advantage of the washing machine (and hastily put up clothesline), the full size oven and the abundance of freezer space. It was nice to see how well the lawn and garden plants had thrived during the two years since we had been here last.

There will be a short break over the Christmas holidays, visiting family and sharing meals all around. Then it is down to business. I get to dabble in paint, and hubby will be putting all his energy into maintenance and organization.  

He does love to boss everyone around.

W

Westward, Ho!

It was time to find the west coast. For sure, the east and south hadn’t been very kind to us.

The trip west from Louisiana to Texas was two long days of driving and one short night in a noisy truck stop.  It doesn’t take much to entertain me, so I enjoyed the driving days, looking at the mesas and boulder hills of Texas. We blew through El Paso as quickly as possible. We had not received any warnings this year about passing too close to the Mexican border, but we are not ones to take chances. Selling everything we owned and hitting the road notwithstanding.

We did take the time to stop at the Sonora Caverns in Texas, just off I-10. These caverns have unusual features, like the beautiful stalactites that hang from the ceiling of the cave like white Christmas trees.















Unlike in most caverns, gravity does not seem to be a major factor in the development of these limestone features. Very delicate growths seem to sprout every which way. The most amazing to us was the one that looked like the tail of a fish projecting from the wall.

Balmorhea State Park in western Texas that we stayed in had a large natural spring pool. The pool maintained a temperature of 23C (74F) no matter what the weather. Original thoughts had been that it would be a great place to swim when we got there. That was before the temperatures in southern Texas plunged to just over freezing. We did wander around the pool, testing the water with our fingers and watching the little minnows inside dart around. There was another young couple that had the same idea, but took it a step farther and wore their swimsuits to enjoy the warmth of the water. I don’t think the young lady lasted more than a couple of minutes. The fellow stayed a little longer, but did say that it was not worth the swim. Even with the minnows nibbling at his toes.

We wish we had been able to take more time in Tucson. It looked like a very interesting city from the interstate, but we were booked into an Arizona state park halfway between there and Phoenix and we were running late. As it was, we ended up parking in the dark, which is just not a best bet scenario. The planner of the family had been wise enough to reserve a pull-through site, which is relatively painless. Except that with no one at the gates when we arrived, we were unaware that there was no water at the campsite. They do have water available to fill your internal holding tanks before you get to your spot, but it is outside the camping area. Not willing to wait until the next day with no water, we pulled out, filled our tank, and then reparked. Something that would have been painful if we’d had to back in.

The next morning showed us what a beautiful area we had landed into. There were small, hiking friendly mountains on both sides of us, one of which had an unusual peak formation. Historic mention of this peak notes that it was a landmark used for early travellers crossing the desert.  As we were having a rest day after our long drive, I can happily tell you that we did not climb it.

 At first look, it seemed like there was no wildlife around the campground, but after I sat quietly at the picnic table for a few minutes, several different types of birds and a curious chipmunk came close by me looking for food. And so did a Junior Ranger, except instead of food she was looking for someone to fill in a survey. Drat. Even without phone service I can’t get away from these things.

At least it was getting warmer. As we headed towards the weekend Christmas shopping traffic of Los Angeles, the sun was shining and reflecting off the fancy luxury cars around us. We arrived at our destination at the edge of the Pacific Ocean before nightfall, and parked on pavement right beside the beach. 

Between the trailer parking and the sand there is a “multi-use trail”.  They certainly couldn’t label it anything else, because to be more specific would have taken three or four signs. The paved trail was used by bikers, sightseers, dog walkers, inline skaters, joggers, strollers, fishermen, family groups, teenage skateboarders, and surfers of all shapes and ages. The only stipulation was that nothing motorized was allowed. We took our own bicycles for a spin and never did find the southern end of this trail. We did find a beach volleyball park and a fishing pier, and watched a couple of hundred southern California surfers bobbing away in the waves.

Across the road from our beachfront parking lot is a state ecological reserve. The local community worked very hard to prevent new development of this area and to rehabilitate the damage done by previous “progress”. And judging by the amount of birds and evidence of wildlife, they did an excellent job. Unfortunately it is surrounded by busy roads, and almost impossible to access by foot. With the official sign of “No Ped Xing” facing us at our exit, our only options were to either walk a mile north to an intersection and then back down the other side, or to drive, crossing into their parking lot almost immediately after leaving our park. All in total of 0.5 KM. It made no sense to me, but drive we did. And then we walked around the reserve with dozens of other birdwatchers before driving back across the road.

Despite the traffic noise outside our door, we have enjoyed this beachfront camping. We love the people watching, the many activities, and we have friends nearby. But we have only one more beautiful pacific sunset left to watch before heading off to a new destination.

Now, it is “Northward, Ho!” for us.

W

Cruising

The sea gods smiled on us.

Weather-wise, it was perfect.  Calm waters, and warm and sunny for every day but one of our cruise to the Caribbean.  It couldn’t have been any better.

For us, it started just outside of New Orleans, in the RV park where we left the truck and trailer. We had pre-booked a taxi to pick us up about an hour before we were due to embark. But we were so excited, and hubby had planned everything so well, that we were ready two hours early. The cheerful taxi driver dropped us at the cruise terminal, where we were surprised to see a huge crowd of fellow vacationers being funnelled into an airport-like security screening lineup. If we were early, why are all these people here? And many of them were repeat cruisers. It turns out that the buffets and bars are open well before the staterooms are scheduled to be occupied. We could have been there an hour ago!

It was sundown when we pulled away from the cruise terminal, closely followed by a big Carnival ship. The lights of New Orleans were stunning against the sunset.  All evening we meandered down the Mississippi River, winding our way to the Gulf of Mexico.  Our cabin was cozy, slightly smaller than a hotel room, but since the bathroom was twice the size of the one in our trailer, we were very comfortable.

We spent the first two days of the cruise at sea, and alternately explored our environment and relaxed. We enjoyed the hot tubs (adults only) and watched giant chess and checker games played on deck. The red line going around the chess board is the jogging track that circles the upper deck.The options for activities are endless, from lounging by the pool with live Caribbean music, to several scheduled aerobic classes throughout the day, to Sudoku and crosswords offered all day in the library. They entertain us with participation in game shows, dance lessons, and a nightly show in the theatre – the last of which we saw little as it often started at the same time as my bedtime. I even missed the chocoholic buffet because it opened at 9:45pm.  How unfair!

Our first port of call was Montego Bay, Jamaica.  We had no shore excursions planned, but since hubby had sprained his ankle during a solitary game of basketball, a trip ashore to find a pharmacy was in order. We ended up taking a “taxi tour” with a very knowledgeable young driver who was happy to explain the history and economics of the island while showing us the sights.

The next day, the ship anchored off Grand Cayman. We shuttled over to the pier about an hour or so before our snorkeling excursion so we could stroll through the town. Everything near the pier was expensive, but we indulged in ice cream anyway – 2 single scoop cones came to $16.00!




For our tour we were led onto a 3 level boat with 50 other people ready to get out of the heat and into the water. The top deck was open to the sun, with bench seats and snorkeling equipment. The middle level had chairs, tables, and drinks, and from the lowest deck you could look through the glass panels on the bottom of the boat to watch the fish and reefs go by.  Except that we didn’t go very far.  After shoving off, they tethered the boat to a buoy not 300m away where an old wreck had sunk.

Obviously no one had drowned in that event, as just one wave could have taken you into shore. But the fish were beautiful to watch, even the barracuda that startled me, and we really didn’t care where we were as long as we were snorkeling.  Later they took us a little bit farther out to a reef. Again, not very many more meters out. Our shuttle from the cruise ship was twice as far as the entire distance to the reef and back. At least we couldn’t complain that we spent all our time getting to the main event.

Unlike our next shore adventure, in Mexico. When the cruise ship tied up to the pier on the little island of Cozumel, it was hot, muggy, and cloudy. We had opted for the Tulum Mayan ruins tour, but they were located off the island and on mainland Mexico. As we were being loaded, along with 200 or so other people, onto a sleek and fancy double decker ferry to the mainland, it started to rain. Hard. Nobody wanted to sit on the open upper deck in that, so they all crowded into the lower, enclosed, section. Those calm seas we sailed in all week are not very calm at all when you are looking at them from inside a much smaller vessel right at sea level. As we set off, we immediately experience a lot of rocking and rolling. Blue bags are being passed around with great haste. If someone put up their hand to get a bag, everyone seated nearby threw their hands up too, trying to attract the steward’s attention. Get that man a bag! Now!

The trip lasts about 40 minutes and we all gratefully got off the boat, pouring rain or not. About a quarter of us get loaded onto a bus and shipped south 60km along a good highway. Our tour guide is a Mayan descendant who seems totally convinced that the ancient Mayans were influenced in their architecture and sciences by space aliens. It makes for an interesting ride. He stops our bus at a Mexican mall before taking us on to the ruins. Hubby is looking for a walking stick of some sort to ease his limp, since his ankle is still sore and swollen. Nothing at the mall, but there are vendors outside the ruins selling clothing, obsidian, and woven cloth. There are canes, too, but that is just not macho enough, so he snags one of the vendors and convinces the young lad to sell his “reaching stick”, the one they use to get higher clothes items down. I don’t think the fellow believed he was serious, but still, on the walk to the ruins, hubby had a walking stick.

We wander around the ruins carefully following the paths. Climbing these ruins is prohibited as they are getting worn from use and in some cases crumbling. There is a large temple right on a cliff by the ocean and several smaller structures nearby, all with faint carvings and non-rectangular doors.  Iguanas seem to inhabit the grounds and the buildings, some scurrying quickly in front of your feet when you least expect it.

The traveling time was much longer than the time we were allowed to look around. Soon it is time to find the buses again and return to the ocean. Our tour guide fills the riding time by playing a video of scientific discoveries proving alien influence on earth.  Some of us even stay awake for it. Then it is back on the Ferry from Hell, but at least the sun had come out and it was hot. The top deck made for a much happier ride, especially because they were selling beer up there.

When the cruise ship leaves the pier, it is finally affected by the rougher seas. We toddle off to supper, dancing 3 steps to the left, then 3 steps to the right, zigzagging down the halls. But I never once spilled my wine.

One final day of relaxation in the hot tubs, mixed with repacking everything we brought (minus the wine), and it is time to leave the ship. You could get coloured luggage tags that correspond to a specific debarkation time so that not everyone tries to push out the door at the same time, but since we had just 2 carryon cases, we opted for the “carry your own suitcases and leave early” choice.  When we got down to the main lobby, it seemed almost everyone took that option, many of them lugging huge suitcases and lots of bags. The lineup went past the lobby, circled through the halls and came back to the lobby on the other side. At least the line kept moving and we were off the ship in half an hour. Not through customs, but that wasn’t really anything to slow us down.  Bags weren’t checked or even x-rayed. They just wanted to make sure you were supposed to be coming back to the USA.

It was a bit of a shock getting out on the streets of New Orleans. Far from being the warm, southern city we expected, it was cold and damp. We thought we had shaken those single digit temperatures when we left Florida!

The sea gods may have smiled on us. Once we were back on land, it was the North Wind that was laughing.

W