Blog Catch Up 4—I think—Acoma–Sky City

 

Just a little background on Acoma. These Indians, the Acoma, are what is known as Pueblo Indians, along with the Zuni and Hopi among others. They built stone dwellings and large communities with kivas, round many times underground chambers for ceremonies and rituals. The Navajo use sweat lodges and live in hogans, usually made of limbs and saplings covered by some form of vegetation. The Pueblo’s united for a brief time, despite being of many tribes and managed to repulse the Spanish and their blood thirsty quest for gold and human souls. They lived in freedom for few years before the reinforced Spaniards again attacked. The unity among the tribes had collapsed and the Spanish were successful in resubjecting the tribes to the will of Spain. The Pueblo Revolt is a very dense but interesting book telling the story of the brief success of these people to get out from under the brutality of these good Catholic people. Today most of the Acoma practice both Catholicism as well as their own religion but about 5% of them just practice the old religion of the people.

Having gone up on the Plateau with Bill, I did not pay to go up to the community again. The crowds were unbelievable—over from the Balloonfest. I read in the lounge and waited while Barb went up on the tour. So many vehicles up there—people staying over from the fiesta and others cleaning up from it. There are more people staying up there year round than a few years ago. The young lady who gave the tour owns one of the houses, since she is the youngest daughter and it is to them that the homes are passed down. She is responsible for her parents until their deaths. They live in the house though she does not. Her brother lives with them and he is allowed to stay until he marries at which time, she may throw him out.

From Acoma we headed to Belen—south of Albequerque. We know a shortcut which avoid the city—thank goodness—traffic has been horrendous. Had a long visit with Bud and Gloria. Had a wonderful chili dinner with homemade rolls and wine.  Afterwards, Gloria gave us the option of watching TV or have a fire pit in the courtyard. We opted for the latter and she tried to rustle up some neighbors to join us.

At 7:30, it was amazing how many had already changed into PJ’s and were settled in for the evening. A lady named Barbara redressed and joined us as did Jan, who lives down the street. Next door Kim came by to tell us that his wife was under the weather so they wouldn’t be over. We sat around the fire admiring the almost full moon, enjoying the fire and laughing a great deal over things that escape me now. One story by Jan of a sighting of a strange object that she saw several years ago but had not revealed until last night for fear of being thought crazy, led us to decide that indeed she is. There was much hilarity several times over the situation. Just fun, fun, fun. Had brownies that Gloria had made topped with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream and a cherry. Just a great time. The ladies left around 930. Gloria, Bud, Barb and I remained outside until about 1030. We all retired by 11.

This morning we watched some the Balloonfest on TV and had a great breakfast. Gloria had to take a neighbor to the hospital for a colonoscopy and left around 1030. Barb and I remained visiting with Bud until about 12. Got gas at the cheapest station in Belen and headed down to Socorro. Got the last room here—king smoking room Cindy was so upset that she didn’t have a suite or any other room to offer us. She immediately went to the kitchen and told them to bake us some chocolate chip cookies, which she delivered to our room She called to see if we wanted milk or coffee to wash them down. She was so devastated that she had to give us a smoking room. What a sweetie.

It is getting to be late afternoon so we are headed down to the Bosque to see it at dusk. Will post pix tomorrow. I’ve made a reservation in Carlsbad. again, getting the last room and another smoking, king room What is going on???? For now, we are off—all caught up but getting ready to add the next installment. Til tomorrow—goodnight from the Tired, but Thrilled Sisters, Kathy and Barb

Acoma and Visit in Belen

Just a little background on Acoma. These Indians, the Acoma, are what is known as Pueblo Indians, along with the Zuni and Hopi among others. They built stone dwellings and large communities with kivas, round many times underground chambers for ceremonies and rituals. The Navajo use sweat lodges and live in hogans, usually made of limbs and saplings covered by some form of vegetation. The Pueblo’s united for a brief time, despite being of many tribes and managed to repulse the Spanish and their blood thirsty quest for gold and human souls. They lived in freedom for few years before the reinforced Spaniards again attacked. The unity among the tribes had collapsed and the Spanish were successful in resubjecting the tribes to the will of Spain. The Pueblo Revolt is a very dense but interesting book telling the story of the brief success of these people to get out from under the brutality of these good Catholic people. Today most of the Acoma practice both Catholicism as well as their own religion but about 5% of them just practice the old religion of the people. Having gone up on the Plateau with Bill, I did not pay to go up to the community again. The crowds were unbelievable—over from the Balloonfest. I read in the lounge and waited while Barb went up on the tour. So many vehicles up there—people staying over from the fiesta and others cleaning up from it. There are more people staying up there year round than a few years ago. The young lady who gave the tour owns one of the houses, since she is the youngest daughter and it is to them that the homes are passed down. She is responsible for her parents until their deaths. They live in the house though she does not. Her brother lives with them and he is allowed to stay until he marries at which time, she may throw him out. From Acoma we headed to Belen—south of Albequerque. We know a shortcut which avoid the city—thank goodness—traffic has been horrendous. Had a long visit with Bud and Gloria. Had a wonderful chili dinner with homemade rolls and wine. Afterwards, Gloria gave us the option of watching TV or have a fire pit in the courtyard. We opted for the latter and she tried to rustle up some neighbors to join us. At 7:30, it was amazing how many had already changed into PJ’s and were settled in for the evening. A lady named Barbara redressed and joined us as did Jan, who lives down the street. Next door Kim came by to tell us that his wife was under the weather so they wouldn’t be over. We sat around the fire admiring the almost full moon, enjoying the fire and laughing a great deal over things that escape me now. One story by Jan of a sighting of a strange object that she saw several years ago but had not revealed until last night for fear of being thought crazy, led us to decide that indeed she is. There was much hilarity several times over the situation. Just fun, fun, fun. Had brownies that Gloria had made topped with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream and a cherry. Just a great time. The ladies left around 930. Gloria, Bud, Barb and I remained outside until about 1030. We all retired by 11. This morning we watched some the Balloonfest on TV and had a great breakfast. Gloria had to take a neighbor to the hospital for a colonoscopy and left around 1030. Barb and I remained visiting with Bud until about 12. Got gas at the cheapest station in Belen and headed down to Socorro. Got the last room here—king smoking room Cindy was so upset that she didn’t have a suite or any other room to offer us. She immediately went to the kitchen and told them to bake us some chocolate chip cookies, which she delivered to our room She called to see if we wanted milk or coffee to wash them down. She was so devastated that she had to give us a smoking room. What a sweetie. It is getting to be late afternoon so we are headed down to the Bosque to see it at dusk. Will post pix tomorrow. I’ve made a reservation in Carlsbad. again, getting the last room and another smoking, king room What is going on???? For now, we are off—all caught up but getting ready to add the next installment. Til tomorrow—goodnight from the Tired, but Thrilled Sisters, Kathy and Barb

Catch Up Blog—El Morro and Malpais

 

On Sunday, we chatted with a young couple from Munich in Bavaria. They are camping on their travels. They flew into Vegas, rented a car and were having problems trying to prioritize where they were going—so much to see and only three weeks. He’d been here before and so wanted her to see the Guadaloupe Mtns and she wanted to go to Austin to visit relatives –so they were sort of playing it by ear. Sounds familiar.

We backtracked 43 miles to El Morro and Inscription Rock. The Ranger immediately called out to us as we entered the door. She said she’d checked out Acoma and it indeed was closed today but would be open again on Monday—the next day. We said we figured that. She set up the video for us immediately and other tourists were giving us a look—we felt like celebrities she was so attentive. It was a bit embarrassing , though very heartwarming to have her be so friendly and attentive. We walked the half mile trail enjoying the flora and fauna as well as the many inscriptions on the rock dating back to the 17th century Spanish conquistadores and priests, through the 18th century pioneers, soldiers and army explorers, to the late 19th century Union Pacific railroad surveyors.

We then drove through the cinder and lava fields of a very early volcanic eruption of Mt Taylor—one of the Navajo Sacred Mountains. Returned to our motel and did the laundry—we’d procrastinated as long as possible. We got comfy on the couches in the lounge and had coffee while watching TV. Met another lady doing her laundry. She and her husband live north of Boston and have been travelling in our wake, since they left a week after us. They are returning home by the 23rd so now are leading us—they are going by way of the coast—Georgia and the Carolinas but we will be more inland.  Watched Masterpiece and turned off the lights by midnight.

Catch Up Blog continued—Window Rock and Hubbell Trading

 

After leaving the Canyon on Friday, not Saturday, we headed down to Hubbell Trading Post but we arrived quite late in the afternoon and so they were closing. We decided to return on Saturday. So we backtracked about 50 miles. We stopped first at Window Rock, which is the capital of the Navajo Nation, which is as large as the State of Rhode Island. There is a lovely park and an impressive statue representing the Navajo code-talkers of World War II. Des had told us the day before that until the War the Navajo language was strictly oral, that is, not written. Des and his family speak it mixed with both Mexican and English words. The Marines recruited to send messages among American forces developed the written language that is now used in Navajo schools—they created new vocabulary—such as the Navajo words for floating and islands used together to mean the Phillipines. Des says he can speak but cannot read the language. He also told us of a Navajo Marine captured by the Japanese. He was brutally tortured in an effort to break the code, but he was not a code talker and had no idea what the code entailed. He could not help them, even if they tortured him enough to break him.

We went out to Hubbell and then returned to Gallup, went to the ATM for cash, our first time since leaving home. We’d paid Mr Henry cash for our pendants—that left me with $1.00 in cash and Barb not much more!!!! We continued over to Perry Null’s where I renewed my acquaintance with Mel, who told us that Acoma was closed to non-Natives this weekend for a fiesta. He said that the Navajo Fair in Shiprock was open to the public and he was headed up there after work. We said, nope, it’s in the wrong direction. Karen had left that day for a trip to South Africa. I got a couple of rings and a bracelet. Quite modest for me. Barb was a bit more extravagant—but then, I stop every year and this is her first visit.

I then took her to El Ranchero for lunch. It is an elegant hotel dating back to the heydey of Hollywood and is located on Rte 66.  A few people were at the large lobby table and it seems they were gathering for a banquet to celebrate their 60 th high school class reunion. Had a few pleasantries with them, wished them health and happiness and then took off toward Grants by way of El Morro.  Guess what?  After 4 pm so they closed the trails—said we’d be back the next day. Also mentioned that Acoma was closed for the weekend. Ranger said she didn’t know that but she’d check it our and let us know the next day.

Made our way into Grants and found that my reservation was somehow for the next night and they were totally booked. The week long balloon festival in Albequerque was just starting. Cancelled that reservation and went across the road to the Quality which the guy at Comfort called. They had one room left—smoking with a king bed on the second floor. Got over there and gave the girl my membership number and miraculously a non-smoking , two queen on the first floor was available. Considering we had to backtrack yet again we decided to book for two nights. And so it was, that we crashed, tired but happily settled in a comfy room.

Another Day of Blog Catch-up!

 

Tuesday, October 7, 2014 Comfort Inn Room 315 Socorro, New Mexico

So busy the last few days and so many lovely places we’ve seen and people with whom we’ve spoken.

Saturday we left Holbrook early in order to reach Canyon de Chelley early enough to take a tour of the canyon floor in the cool of the morning. Past a white stallion who wanted to cross the road but decided to go back among the shrubs to play hide and seek with us. He had a couple of other horses with him and later in the day we learned that these horses are NOT wild—they are owned by families and are branded but they run free range. Periodically, they are corraled and those branded get returned to owners and those not branded are destroyed. The horses are not ridden nor used for work. Motorized vehicles have made them just decorative fixtures on the landscape.

Arrived at the Canyon by 9:30 or so but got talking with the silversmith in the visitors’ center. His name is J. Ted Henry—we called him Mr Henry. He told us of living in the canyon with his family, going to school from the clifftop, since they diidn’t send busses to the floor. He was in boarding school and came home only on holidays—he was homesick. By high school he was attending the public school in Holbrook and again home only on holidays. He enrolled in a work study program there and worked with a silversmith. It was his first contact with Hispanic and white kids. He had fun. When he was finished he came home and started to work for a silversmith but eventually went our on his own. He has taught his brothers, nephews and sons and many of them also make jewelry etc.

There was a black and white picture of a Native woman holding a baby on a cradle board hanging over his work space. It hung from a nail by multiple strands of yarn. He said he grew up with it hanging in his home. On a visit to California with his wife his eye was caught by a coffee table book that had a black and white picture of the Canyon on the cover. He started to flip through the photos and nearly dropped the book when he came upon the picture of his mother with his baby brother. Two pages later he came upon a shot of his sister as a young girl standing in the doorway of their hogan!  The book was a compilation of Ansel Adams’ photos of Native lands that eventually became National Parks or Monuments. AA had been commissioned by the government to take photos of the Native lands and the people living on them. Since that time, Mr Henry has sought out books with his mother’s photo. He has a stack of them. Not one cent to his mother or family. How much has the Adams’ estate and the publishers and authors of these books made on those photos???

At any rate, Mr Henry now makes pendants—on one side it a cutout of his design depicting his mother and brother in cradle board and on the other a patchwork of semiprecious stones and sterling silver stars in onyx representing Peliedes. He made one for each of us as we watched him work and talk and we perused his books. He gave us a copy of the photo under which is another photo of his mother, 40 years later, holding the book open and standing in the exact same location in the canyon. The original was taken in 1942, his brother had died by the time the new photo was taken and his mother lived to be 100 years old. He signed the card and said it was our certificate of authentication.  What a wonderful experience and what a delightful man. I’ll have to add a photo of the necklace later.

Before we knew it the time had flown and it was 1:30. We had not yet arranged for a tour. The Thunderbird Lodge through which Bill and I had arranged a tour on the top of a large army truck has been renamed to the Sacred Spirit Lodge and no longer offers tours. So we chose the first listed Jeep tour, AZ Jeep Tours and arranged to meet the gentleman at the Sacred Spirit. He arrived, said his name was Deswood Yazzie and we could call him Des and we were off. If any of you EVER decide to go to this Canyon and take a Jeep tour—let me tell you—this man is a font of knowledge—turns out to be Mr Henry’s cousin. Des’ mother and Mr Henry’s father were brother and sister! Both Des and Mr Henry have hogans deep in the canyon though they both live “ up top” . We laughed, learned things, asked questions and bounced along the canyon floor absorbing the sights of fabulous cliffs and ruins. We also learned that about two years ago, one of those Army vehicles lost steering control on the top of a seven foot cliff. The driver could not keep from going over the edge, one person killed and several injured. Lawsuits all over the place. The Thunderbird closed and only recently reopened under new ownership. Scary.

After three hours we returned to the car and headed out of Chinle and on toward Gallup as the sun was setting over the city. To be continued………….

Flying Across Arizona

 

Thursday October 2, 2014 Quality Inn Room 120 Holbrook, Arizona

Poor Barb was a bit disappointed and angry this morning because the Monument Valley excursion was not meant to be. She decided we were heading home so I directed her to take I 40 east out of Kingman. And off we went—I took a couple of shots just outside Kingman to show how quickly the desert seems to end. It doesn’t really but there are larger areas with enough water to support taller and wider plants. Then you come to stretches just as dry as the real desert but by the time you reach Flagstaff and the San Francisco Peaks you have gone through a couple of sizeable conifer forests.

As altitude decreases and you get on the leeward side of the mountains, dryness reappears but there is little cactus or succulent growth. We traveled in silence until we reached Holbrook when Barb asked if the Petrified Forest was worth seeing. I said I thought so, that she wouldn’t see anything like it anywhere else. And so it was, that the ice broke and we entered the National Park.  On Blue Mesa I whipped out the map and showed her that Canyon de Chelley is still doable and if we get there early enough tomorrow we should be able to do a half day tour, see Window Rock and Hubbell Trading Center and spend the night in Gallup. I mapped out some ideas for the days following and she agreed. So all’s right with the world once more. It is hard to have your heart set on seeing something and not be able to get there. I still haven’t seen the aquarium in Monteray and will probably not get there—makes me sad and disappointed but there are so many beautiful places to see and we can’t do them all.

Since we are travelling from the West these pictures are, again, in reverse order from those I posted a few years ago when Bill and I toured the park. Beautiful in either direction. Good opportunity to play with the camera using different white balance and different colors. Like the ones using the sunset setting—picks up the colors the best. The black and whites are interesting, too.

Met a volunteer at the visitor center who is a retired Naval pilot and commercial pilot for Delta. He then was an instructor for Delta. He and his wife volunteer at various NP and really likes it.They will spend several winter months in a wildlife refuge in Alabama this year.  Nice and interesting man—quite handsome, too—bet he was one of those Top Guns the women swarmed around.  LOL

Holbrook is not what once it was in its Route 66 heyday so we are trying to figure out what we want for dinner tonight. Maybe pizza—there is a pizza hut here. Haven’t had that in ages.  Hope I can manage to stay up to watch Jeter on Fallon tonight and still get up early tomorrow—but then, I can sleep on the way to the Canyon—NOT. Oh, well, goodnight from the Snippy now Serene Sisters, Kathy and Barb

Deserts, Mining Towns, Joshua Tree, Route 66, Halaupai Nation

 

Wednesday October 1, 2014 Quality Inn Room 159  Kingman, Arizona

Yesterday began our fifth week on the road and we have covered over 6.000 miles—obviously, not all in a straight line cross the country and certainly not in a straight line down the West coast.  It must be noted that much of the California, Nevada, Arizona Southwest is desert.  It is amazing, however, that that general term hides the fact that the topography is quite diverse and as a result, the vegetation is as well. Sometimes looking at the pictures it appears to be monotonous and boring but nothing could be farther from the truth. Add to its appearance the history of the area and one cannot help but think of the people who came before—the pioneers, the miners and even the people who crossed this area in the earliest days of the automobile. My Dad and his family came out here in 1936 or so---thinking about the cars of that time and what travel was like is mind-boggling. Moving back in time, seeing the lack of water available, feeling the heat of the desert and noting the many forms of tricks nature plays makes one truly admire the spirit and character of those early travelers to this very forbidding land. Mirages are such promises of cool water, the shadows cast upon the hills look like dark blue pools of water, too –but the closer you get to these images which seem ever farther away, the more disappointed and disheartened tthose travelers must have been.

Well, these travelers chose to remain in Tonopah for an extra day. The girls at the reception desk both have babies so we got to know Maverick, the 14 mo old boy and a ten month old girl, whose name I didn’t get. I paid all of Septembers bills and balanced all the accounts.  We ate in using some of the larder from fridge and pantry and read and watched TV. The day was very windy and throughout the day there were squalls. We stayed cool and relaxed in our room. It was fun to see the Hotel sign lit across the parking lot from our window and see the stealth bomber headed our way! Do we even use them anymore—I thought they have been considered obsolete. I know they were based in Alamogordo though I don’t remember ever seeing one.

On Sunday, before heading out of town we took a spin around to check out some of the old  buildings etc I had wanted to stay at the Clown Motel—thought it looked cute—but Barb doesn’t like clowns!  Who doesn’t like clowns??? She probably would have had nightmares since each room door bore a clown! We checked out Cisco’s from which  we’d ordered our hamburgers the other night. It was interesting to see the depth of the white soil that covers the area—the cut away surface looked like a white marble wall.

I will have to google the Tonopah-Goldfield Railroad since the bulletin board taken on the run didn’t focus very well. Though there is no mention of Belle Butler’s life prior to marrying Jim, her garb and endowment seems to speak volumes. LOL

Off we went once more through the desert headed toward Vegas. Within a few miles we came to the aforementioned Goldfield. What an interesting town—though many of the oldest buildings are empty the town is not a ghosttown—there are occupants and an active historical society, though I could not seem to find the office. In a web search, I found the pamphlet that describes some of the buildings which I photographed. Each of them has a numbered plaque on it so I will be able to coordinate the pictures with the history of the subject. Both Tonopah and Goldfield also bring to mind the fact that ” thar’s gold and other things in them thar hills”  and quite a bit of money in minerals and metals has been taken out of them. When the mines closed and the miners moved on, they left their burros behind.  They now run wild in the West and right outside Goldfield we began to see many of them. They are beautiful—there was one shiny black one who was truly elegant.

And being Nevada where prostitution is legal there were several bordellos along the desert road—Angel’s Ladies and later Nude Girls at Bikini’s. As you can see these desert oases are in the middle of nowhere and ,at least early in the day ,are quite deserted. 

There are also anomalies in the desert such as a huge dune—we traveled out the dirt road over 3 miles and had still not even gotten out as far as the dune, never mind having turned toward it and reached it. Considering the desolation of the road, the heat and the dirt road, I urged Barb to return to the highway. She said she would have gone on, however, I would rather be cautious in an unfamiliar and unsupportive environment. Cowardly?  I prefer sensibly cautious.

In order to totally avoid Vegas and its insanity we took a road to Death Valley. The National Park has only one visitors’ center so we did not actually go to it, since it was not in the direction we were travelling. Nevertheless, we were most assuredly in Death Valley and at Death Valley Junction we reentered California.

One of the spectacle of the valley was the antics of the dust devils that run across the desert floor, one after the other, gamboling like children in zigzagging paths and then collapsing suddenly, like kids falling to the ground in giggles and dizziness.  So much fun to watch them. The changing formations look like piles of sand and coal when made of volcanic material and at other times like the walls and towers of some ancient Spanish fortress. Then suddenly, there are snow white dunes in the midst of a dry lake—glistening like snow in the shimmery heat waves rising from the ground.

We’d noticed signs turned toward the fields on either side of the road. We figured they get turned to the road when their message is appropriate to conditions. Finally, too curious to wait any longer Barb pulled over, got out and read one—Flooded!  Wouldn’t one be able to see that, if the road were flooded?  Maybe not, maybe it would be mistaken for a mirage! Eventually, we reached Barker, Ca and its huge thermometer. Hot but it could be hotter, obviously!

Here we got on the Interstate and after all the miles and miles in California, there was a inspection barrier, but the workers were walking away from the booths—was about 430 and the cars just streamed right on through.Before long we saw the city of Barstow spread before our feet. The motel there is one of my favs—it is the one Bill and I stayed in last March. Barb and I went and had a drink while waiting for our room to be readied. We put our luggage in the room and then went over to dinner and enjoyed our first Mexican meal of the trip. Then it was Masterpiece ect and a good restful sleep.

One Monday we headed out of Barstow and took the back way to Joshua Tree National Monument. This was the complete reverse route that Bill and I took in March so, other than the fact that I could see things that were behind me on that day, the story isn’t much different that the blog I posted to you guys at that time. I didn’t take many pictures along the way other than in the Park. This time I focused more on close-ups of the plants rather than panoramic shots. Sometimes, of course, the scene was so beautiful, I couldn’t resist. One thing that we did find that Bill and I didn’t know about—the tallest Joshua Tree in the world—40 feet and probably over 100 years old. Both of us gave it a good healthy hug. We also loved the Sandy Blazing Star which was not in bloom in March. One of the shots looks just like a Georgia O’Keefe painting. I loved looking at the various forms the Joshua’s take—they are so individual.

I’m not sure how one little prickly pear got into the cholla forest but the cuddly looking chollas were definitely showing fall changes. One of the dead ones looked like a brown furry animal lying among the standing cacti. We passed through the smoke trees and ocatilla and down the winding road to Interstate 10 and Blythe, Ca and the motel with the dolphin fountain in front. As the sun set behind the palms we ate in—Barb finished her Fajitas from Barstow and I ate carrots, hummus, pineapple and water for dinner.

Yesterday, as we were gassing up in Blythe we saw some of the day’s citrus harvest getting ready to hit the road. We headed across the river and left California behind for good as we entered Arizona. We followed the Colorado through Quartzite and other mining towns til we reached Lake Havasu City—established in 1964—such sprawl. Somewhere in the mess we caught a glimpse of the London Bridge that made such headlines when some guy bought it and transported it to the Arizona desert—nice looking stone bridge of several arches. Don’t know its age but not worth the tourist hoopla to detour to cross it.

Eventually we came to I 40 which we took back toward California to pick up Route 66 from Golden Shores to Kingman by way of Oatman. I traveled this road with Bill on our first trip west. It is horrible—the lanes are very narrow, there are no guard rails to speak of, horrible switchbacks between Oatman and Kingman, shoulders are gone for the most part. When Bill and I came over from Kingman to Golden Shore the drop-offs were on my side—didn’t really matter much—I was terrified this time, too. Why, you may ask ,when I am the navigator, would I choose to take this route. Well, I wanted Barb to see Oatman. When Clark Gable married Carole Lombard they were to honeymoon in Kingman at the Beale Hotel, owned by Andy Devine’s parents. The press got wind of it so the newlyweds “ raced ‘ down to Oatman and spent their honeymoon at the Oatman Hotel, where you can rent the honeymoon suite they used. Bill and I didn’t do that AND, like Virginia City, Nevada, I am finished. Oatman shall never see my face again.  BUT, on the plus side, the burros were out in Oatman, which they weren’t the year with Bill. They are corralled and penned up in winter.

By the way, the beginning and end of the Route finds the Sacramento Wash—it flooded and did a job on the road last week or so when Arizona got those horrible rains that kept us in Northern Ca and Nevada a few days.

We arrived in Kingman and headed right for the Dam Bar where we had nice medium rare Ranchman’s cut sirloin, salad, fries and several Dam Red drafts. Mindy waited on us as she does me and Bill.  And then at the motel we wound up missing our shows—we are right on the border of Ca and Az. So the LA channels were running on PST and the Phoenix channels were running on MST except Arizona doesn’t use daylight savings time. We were totally confused.

Right up until this morning when we got on the road at 7:30 when we thought it was 8:30. We had stopped at the big info center in Kingman before going to the Dam Bar and purchased out tickets for the Skywalk and the West Rim of the Grand Canyon. I did NOT buy a Skywalk ticket, only the entrance to the West Rim. The ride up is about 70 miles through more desert country. Lots of Joshua trees as a matter of fact. We came upon two cows on the road, one had been hit by a vehicle and was still alive. It is open range in many parts of the West. I cannot imagine how the vehicle continued but there was no sign of it—the animal was moving slightly and the eye blinked. Who to call?  What to do? It made the start of our day really sad. ( And the carcass was still there hours later when we returned to Kingman)

Got to the Rim – absolutely no one of the employees around to tell one where the shuttles are—finally found it. Barb went out on Skywalk but was disappointed—there is a ledge right under your feet, you cannot look down over the edge, because the plexiglass is up to your nose and the walk was very short. I, on the other hand, would have been terrified, nevertheless—as apparently, one lady out there was. There were four photographers running around photographing each person several times and urging them to make various poses. You can’t take anything out on the Skywalk with you.  Then the dancers who were to be performing continuously in the amphitheatre were nowhere in sight, the native village was a farce. The teepee was machine sewn and held down by rebar anchors. Many of the items in the gift shops were from places such as Peru and Nepal. Helicopters filled the skies. All in all, though these Hualipai’s advertise their Grand Canyon as less commercialized, it is far more expensive, very crowded, you cannot see the Canyon without going on the Skywalk and it is far less colorful than the National Park entrance from Williams. A beautiful ride up, with lots of washouts from those rains, and back but I wouldn’t recommend this experience to anyone.

Got back to motel and Barb took a nap after we tried to figure out our next move. Very demoralizing—the rooms in one motel at Monument Valley are all sold out and very expensive at the other—this without meals and the tour.  The rooms at Canyon de Chelley are also expensive and again without meals and tour. Plus, with the distance involved we have to stay in Tuba City and the Quality Inn there is expensive and as Bill and I know, not very nice.  So Barb is a bit bummed and we still haven’t decided what to do tomorrow. 

At last, the blog is caught up so I shall say goodnight from the Disappointed, Discouraged and Undecided Sisters. Tomorrow is another day and we will have come up with something fun, I have no doubt.  Kathy and Barb