What a Damned Day!

Posted on December 27, 2013 by TheJessicaness
Santa Hydrant

Santa Hydrant

Most people probably would’ve taken advantage of the complimentary soap and shampoo and taken a nice hot shower, but after drying off with the decent towel would’ve remembered that it’s below freezing outside and they either have to make haircicles upon exit or to blow-dry their hair with either one they brought or hope the hotel supplies one – I didn’t look behind the bathroom door so I don’t know if they do. Then, feeling clean as ever would have taken the hotel up on its offer for breakfast – we just weren’t that hungry for a small cup of coffee and thin bagel slice – so we left in a hurry.

Why did I skip these amenities with joy you ask – because my husband suggested we take the scenic route south through Zion National Park – and when time is limited I choose sight over smell. I love it when a place holds such a demand in his heart – so much that we could drive through here every time we pass by until all hikes are done, all holes in the tunnels photographed through, all mammals stared at while stopping traffic, all birds  listened to while sitting in the shade, and no beautiful anything doesn’t get our attention for a moment or ten.

bridge to Lower Falls

bridge to Lower Falls

If we had more time, like ride our bicycles for days, I know we would see a lot more – how could we not, but there is always something on our way to Zion that seems to grab our attention a little more than its surroundings. In the past it has been the shoe tree located near Virgin, Utah that has been torched and cut down as of November 2012, so today it will be a festive fire hydrant located between Toquerville and La Verkin. We will continue to drive as the sun makes its way over one mountain to light another highlighting the reds, browns, whites, greens, and yellows that call Zion home.

There is a line at the gate. This seems to be a trend at these parks in the off-season. We are not the only ones interested in what the park has to offer in cold weather – dangerously icy trails, road and building closures, and people congesting to wear the ice thin and see what others are seeing. I’m glad they did. During the busy season the Zion Canyon Scenic Drive is open to buses only to help control traffic and parking – something that can already be a major issue in this park, but during the off-season it’s open and I am absolutely thrilled.

swirl

in Zion National Park

Some people ask if living by the beach makes me like it less – no, but I am less likely to collect shells or post on Facebook every time I go – because I can watch the sunrise, walk the pier, go for a pretzel, visit the farmer’s market, do some yoga, go swimming, ride my bike, and watch a game of chess all while at the beach and all without my camera. Some say you can never go home because things change. Well what does photography and change have to do with Zion – until I live here I will continue to post pictures and blog about it and I enjoy seeing the changes that this ‘home’ brings to every visit.

Though now I feel bad that I don’t take enough pictures around the city I live in. But I am feeling blessed to be here. I’m grateful that I wasn’t able to easily drive down this road the first couple times I was here. I could’ve taken the bus, but I was worried about what I would miss scenically, and now I’m glad I waited. We make our way into the canyon and watch the water run over the stones in the river; the sun climb higher in the sky bringing light to the shade; and the rock climbers making their way to the top to celebrate their accomplishment and regain some lost body heat before the rappel down.

89E in Utah between Kanab and Page

89E in Utah between Kanab and Page

We get out of the car at Weeping Rock Trailhead with excitement, gloves, and my camera. There is a Trail Closed sign, but plenty of vehicles in the parking lot and two girls just went to the left – maybe we will go right. It doesn’t matter. The steeper it gets the farther off trail I seem to go. I don’t feel too guilty as the snow is deep enough to protect the fragile life underneath. Soon enough though we realize that we need snowshoes to continue. Caleb falling on the way down will make me laugh – I have a cruel sense of humor. It hurts to fall downhill on ice and land on your bum. Caleb looked just like the guy on the Caution sign.

With that out of the way we are free to join the herd at the Lower Falls Emerald Pool Trail. Over the bridge and through the ice to the frozen falls we go. Some water is still falling and the pool is very reflective, but the trail is closed due to ice. I get near the sign to get another photo and a man warns me that, “You can’t go that way.” Thanks. Maybe I was a blind person following the sounds of footsteps or ten pound falling icicles, but there was a railing that I could grab if I fell. Or you could slide down, but that would ruin the structure of the wall, footpath, and pool. I don’t want to do that.

scenic view five minutes from the UT/AZ border

scenic view five minutes from the UT/AZ border

There has been enough traffic to where parts are dirt and other parts are still ice. Everyone wants to stick to the inside of the trail. Maybe that way when they slip they can bring someone with them – except for this family of kids. They are in their sneakers running and jumping around and having a good time. We could learn something from them. It’s all fun and games until someone slips on the ice and breaks a tooth or an arm – even more so if they fall off the edge into frozen trees and running water. We don’t stick around to play team sports. We pass a ranger on the way out. I wonder if he is reporting on trail conditions or checking for bodies.

No bighorn sheep sightings and again the exit is – BAM! – right there before we know it. Luckily, the park’s views extend for miles so that we have a transition stage – that the truck behind us doesn’t agree with. That’s why someone made a wide road and someone else cleared the snow – so that the truck could pass us and continue living their rushed life. Last time we took the 89 north so taking the road south and then west from Kanab, Utah to Page, Arizona will be a first – I love traveling on new roads.

bridge over Colorado River next to Glen Canyon Dam

bridge over Colorado River next to Glen Canyon Dam

This route will take us by the Moqui Cave with 140 million years of natural history and a closed door. The 89A is closed during winter and part of the 89 is closed due to road buckling caused by a mudslide. This helps determine our route. Instead of seeing the Vermilion Cliffs and taking a minimum two-hour detour to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon – both places we’ve never been – we will take the 89T road to the 64 that will bring us to the East Rim Drive, but not before stopping at the Glen Canyon Dam.

The bad thing about not changing your clock when in a different time zone is that you simply forget and are running on another schedule. Such is the case with the next tour of the dam – that either left an hour ago or that leaves in an hour. We can still learn about the explorers and expeditions of the Colorado River; the history and details of the different dam units; hiking available in Glen Canyon; there are plenty of books on their shelves about modern societies, American Indians, and running the river; multiple books by Craig Childs and Edward Abbey; and other books about wilderness, water, and the desert.

Grand Canyon in monochrome

Grand Canyon in monochrome

No pile of books in our shopping hands today, but I will be adding a few to my TBR (to-be-read) list when I get home. Now it’s time to get into the grandest of canyons in the world before sunset. Last time we were here, in the summer of 2009, we had time to drive along the rim and take a photo. This time… We stop at the Desert View Watchtower after finding a parking spot in the crowded lot and as soon as we walk up to the visitor center my camera battery dies. Caleb says he will be a sweetheart and run back to the car for me, just to return shortly with a lost look on his face. He comes back with a charged battery in the camera and another in his pocket – good thinking.

Inside we learn about the badass explorers and cowboys that took to the West before it had handrails and cellphones and guided tours. We read about musicians, painters, writers, and other artists that have found inspiration in either being here or from pictures and stories from others who had. Caleb’s voice gains an octave as he exclaims that we could visit the Skywalk – that is until the lady behind the desk shows us where it is on the map – five hours of which 1.5 are on back roads and hands us a brochure – minimum of $88 per person includes Skywalk, a meal, a walk, a hike, a voucher, a certificate, and a ranch.

painting in the Desert View Watchtower, Grand Canyon

painting in the Desert View Watchtower, Grand Canyon

It’s probably a great deal for the money, but it’s also a day trip that we don’t have time for. Better to enjoy this end of the river now. We walk down to the tower and I still remember the visit with my dad in 2003 where we got to watch a Navajo lady weave, I fell in the snow, we saw a Condor, hiked part of the Bright Angel Trail, and then had hot chocolate in the El Tovar Hotel. This park is where my dad had his honeymoon in 1994, hiked the North Rim in 2007, wrote his book about the river in 2011, and took his mother-in-law for Christmas in 2013 amongst the 20 or so times that I’m sure he’s been there.

Anyways… back to my trip. With the tower in view we see a snowman – with a bun hair-do and four sharp teeth – who appears to be frozen in a block of ice from the waist down. And then… there it is… the Grand Canyon. It still makes my face a place for ‘cloudy with a chance of rain’ to think about all the time, energy, and love that has gone into this great carving; and all the labor, science, and laws to protect it. I stare at the layers of rocks and think about the Hindu God names they’ve been given by Charles Dutton who believed that the canyon was such an important and impressive place that it should reflect all the world’s cultures.

Desert View Watchtower on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon

Desert View Watchtower on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon

There is a line to get into the gift shop – the only way to the top – and a line up the stairs. We have to squeeze between people going up/down and in/out to view the art on the walls and ceiling, to look out the windows, and to eventually go back outside. Forty-five minutes later and we are parked behind some cabins on Village Loop Drive near the Bright Angel Trailhead. We make our way down as the sun starts to set behind us but shine brightly on the other side. I love seeing all the switchbacks and am envious of those short of breath as they climb from the depths before dark gets here.

Soon the brightness is gone and I know we should turn back, but this trail calls to us. I climb on a rock for a better view (in my city boots) and this couple (in full Patagonia gear) walks by and loudly comments on how dumb the two girls in high heels are – perhaps they want to die in the latest fashion. I’m not one to judge, but the cardboard cutout in her purse that looked like an Asian Justin Bieber did intrigue me. We make our way back up and will walk along the Rim Trail as the sky grows dimmer.

rocks, sticks, and color at the Grand Canyon

rocks, sticks, and color at the Grand Canyon

Caleb must be getting cold, tired, and hungry as he mentions more than once that we are heading away from the car. I can’t help but want to walk through the El Tovar Hotel – we are so close. We enter through the back and in front is a Hopi House art gallery decked out in traditional ladders and wreaths – instead of bound feathers to celebrate Soyal. It’s after hours so we aren’t able to gain an opinion about the interior, but I’m satisfied with our visit and we make our way back to the car to join the line of traffic leaving this park in the dark. We could’ve taken an old entrance road out and saved time, but we followed the crowd – all the way to Valle where the 180 and 64 split.

We pull into downtown Flagstaff looking for a room. Caleb is having trouble finding anything on his phone. I park at one and we run across the street to two others – all over $100 and none accept pets. I tell him we will head south and stop at the first one that looks cheaper than the rest – like the Motel 6 on Lucky Lane. Inside we are the second in line. The girl behind the counter has a great sense of humor and keeps the man in front of us and the men behind us in a gentle laughter too. We get checked into a smoking room on the fourth floor – and take the steps carrying Piggy up – to room 414 for $46.

sunset in the Grand Canyon

sunset in the Grand Canyon

Of course our room is all the way at the end, opposite the stairs, and opposite the end of the parking lot where our car now sits in snow next to a shed. I flip to a channel in the middle of some movie and Caleb wants to order pizza. Forty-five minutes later a girl delivers our veggie pizza and spinach-feta cheese sticks with some bad jokes, but I commend her for coming all the way up – instead of making us come to the lobby – and still trying to find some humor in it. I think it was enough dumb charm and teeth chattering to impress Caleb into tipping her well while I sit warmly on the bed writing this.

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Two Bison On Ice

Posted on December 26, 2013 by TheJessicaness

fromsun

I slept amazingly last night – warm and quiet in my dreams. Up at twilight and Terri is already gone, but has left us a pot of coffee. Caleb will turn our iced-coffee slushies into a room temperature drinkable beverage via a few minutes in the microwave or however long I spent in the shower. I got out and walked the dogs while he washed and noticed the beautiful coming of the sun. I grabbed my camera and took pictures while Caleb loaded the car. We left the house at 7:30 am with the other residents still in bed.

As we near the Wyoming border, thirty miles from Terri’s house, she gives us a call. She wanted to let us know that we could take some pie (so she doesn’t have to eat it all herself) and some of the items from the sweets tray that the neighbor brought over – different cookies and breads and chocolate-covered nuts. I drove through Cody and stopped in Thermopolis to get a picture of a sign – No Skateboarding on Highway. We stopped at the Boysen Reservoir to learn about the release of 43 bighorn sheep in 1995, the fires ignited by environmental managers, and the history of Wind River Canyon as it cut its way through the Owl Creek Mountains.

goldenroad

We didn’t stop in Utah until we reached the entrance road to Antelope Island. There is a parking lot before the entrance gate and we got out to take a look – a look at the people using the open space as target practice – who refused to shoot while I had my camera pointed at them. Not knowing where they were aiming, how far their bullets go, or if they would come falling down or ricochet off a building or nearby rock we considered it safer to get back in the car and keep on driving – once we paid our $10 state park fee – $7 for day use, $1 for wildlife management, and $2 for the causeway.

I drive us the approximate twelve miles to the Fielding Garr Ranch – the end of the road – as I look for trailheads and photogenic views. Caleb is staring contently out the window looking for the herd of 500 to 700 buffalo to all be eating or sleeping or playing together – which they may be doing, but we are having a hard time seeing them. Even so he imagines that on an island, 15 miles long by 4.5 miles wide that equals over 28,000 acres, it shouldn’t be that hard to see at least a small herd of twenty. He will have to be satisfied with the two that are spotted thanks to the car in front of us that pulled over.

snowtrail

We continue driving and park near another vehicle in a cleared parking lot next to a snow-covered road that in snowless conditions can get you to the trailhead – closer to the crest of the mountain that the trail follows. We get out in 22 degree, or lower, weather with the wind blowing in the shade to explore. I put my gloves on and pull my hood over my head. Going up seems easy enough as we can cram our feet into pockets of ice, rough snow, or patches of grass. The more expansive the view, the higher up I realize we are climbing, and the more slippery our return will be – and it’s just really damn cold.

Caleb thinks it will be fun to race me to the bottom and take a photo of the last one to the car. I saw it coming, but couldn’t take a picture fast enough as Caleb fell and rolled in the snow and popped back up. That split second of, “Oh, shit!” was all it took for him to get his ankles out of any danger of being twisted in ice, but he told me, when I got down there, that being knee-deep in snow only made him colder. Luckily for him we have a car with a functional heater and don’t have to trek over five miles back to the visitor center or some tent or igloo waiting for us in a field.

airfarce

It will be dark soon and I have no idea where dinner or sleep will be yet, so we have to let the dogs out here to pee in a foot or more of snow. There is plenty of plant life springing forth from the snow for incentive, but the windy frozen tundra is cold enough to freeze any bladder for the next few hours. We stop at the Air Force Memorial that seems to have a heated sidewalk. I know that’s what I would want – a time convenience and fancy. We walk down to the water to check on the amount of ice versus salt. Caleb waltzes out on the ice until I tell him that I will call for help – then grab the camera to record us freezing to death.

Back on the main land and we find food less than four miles away – Thai Jasmine in Syracuse. While we wait on our bean noodles, fried rice, and garden rolls to cook we sip our extra-large Thai iced teas and talk with the owner’s daughter about the outfits her grandmother knitted. As she walks away I can’t help but want one of my own – a cute little girl who is respectful, friendly, smart, knows how to put in a good word for family products, sharing, and bilingual – and she’s not even a teenager yet. I wonder what the chances are of adopting a kid like this.

calebice

I don’t like driving at night (only while traveling because I miss the view), but having fun comes at a cost – and tonight that will be driving over two hours to get a room at the Scipio Hotel. This will be our first time in a handicap room and the only difference is the roll-in shower – and the closeness to the exit. Usually the last room available is at the top, in the center with stairs at the end, non-pet, smoking, with a small bed, and sometimes no mini-fridge or microwave – we felt spoiled tonight.

The cost of the room was $68. It’s obvious that inflation can’t stay away from things that we buy, so I can’t complain about the fact that rooms have doubled in cost in ten years. I was looking forward to getting my money’s worth out of the indoor pool and/or sauna – now the covered pool with dirty and unbubbling hot tub in a makeshift nursery with painting crafts in one corner and some bikes against the back wall. The sauna was turned into a storage unit for maintenance and painting supplies. I will just have to settle for the bird towel on my dresser with his black felt eyes – what a conversation we had.

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Hedgehog Pie

Posted on December 25, 2013 by TheJessicaness
Harvey II getting a shower - photo by Caleb

Harvey II getting a shower – photo by Caleb

Caleb had readjusted the blankets before we laid down last night because Piggy is all about moving bedding across the floor to get it just right. And with us in the room Sparky was able to calm down and go to sleep – or so we thought – until the hedgehog started to run in his wheel. Apparently he does this every night and I don’t blame him. It would be a great way to stay warm in a cold, dark place. But I can’t agree with the feces coating in layers on his back – the downside of running and pooping in the wheel at the same time.

So Harvey II – I forgot to ask what happened to the first – begins his nightly routine. Sparky gets up to investigate – stomping on me, jumping over the bed frame, and quieting the hedgehog in the process. Now that the creäture in the cage is not moving Sparky can go back to bed. Not so fast. As soon as we get comfortable again and I start to dream about a hot chocolate bath the two of them are at it again. And Piggy not to be disturbed while she sleeps takes the blanket from the three of us leaving me half cold and two-thirds asleep.

Where did those legs come from? - photo by Caleb

Where did those legs come from? – photo by Caleb

Terri has always been an early riser and her nice weather commute would be 30 minutes, but with the bad weather she is showered, full of two pots of coffee, and has the car dug out, and is halfway down ice road by the time we would get up. Luckily she has today off and we wake at 6:30 am with bottomless coffee cups in front of us and big chairs underneath us. I choose the seat by the window hoping for some warmth from the sun when it rises. Terri has a thing for beautiful views and windy valleys – or maybe that’s just a Montana thing.

I start eating some more crackers and then we make toast for breakfast with homemade apple butter. We take turns letting the dogs outside and our puppies will get their time in the window by the sun, but this doesn’t last long as our dogs are better behaved whether or not they are stuck in a bedroom. Drago is relentless in his barking regardless. Then I figure it’s time to play with Harvey – after he gets a bath. Putting him under running water gets most of it off, but I should’ve left him a small bath to soak in.

drying in the sun

drying in the sun

I didn’t know if it was the water or the sunlight that seemed to bring this nocturnal animal to life, but I liked it. I wrapped him in a towel and then set him on the table in the sun to dry. He has such a cute face and the tiniest little feet under his cactus coat that he wears. I wanted to take him home and Ted said I could, but I had to think about moving to Bahrain and that I’m only allowed to bring two pets. That’s a bummer. I could put Harvey in a dog-safe ball and then let them all get exercise.

I want to pet him, but every time I get close he moves just enough to make my hand jerk away. He doesn’t have the most touchable back, but I’m sure his belly is one of the softest places in the world. Once he is dry and I have over fifty photos of him, I put him back into his safe corner. It’s a good thing that only Sparky is interested because I know Piggy could do some damage – if only knocking the cage off of the box it’s balanced on. And now with Ted up he can entertain us with hunting trip stories, tales from the sugar plant, and the time he got in trouble with Sammi for playing with the water hose.

relishing the warmth

relishing the warmth

Ted pulls the turkey out of the smoker and puts it in the oven. Caleb helps his mom make a cherry pie and Ted makes a green bean casserole. Terri made the apple pie yesterday and quickly whips up some mashed potatoes and vegetarian-friendly stuffing. Out comes the bottle of Merlot, Caleb chops up the dead bird, and dinner is served at 3:00 pm. An hour later I’m ready for a small slice of each pie with some cool whip topping. A football game had been on the TV all day – something Ted could see and that we couldn’t hear.

We started to calm down after dinner and made our way into the living room. We had conversation with doses of Jeff Dunham’s holiday special mixed in. Ted had saved his cigarette smoking moments for outside when he was smoking the turkey, but he moved it into the kitchen while the turkey was in the stove. Now with dinner and smoking out-of-the-way he was free to be in charge of the conversation again. Terri and Caleb fought for their moments and I took the easy way out – sleep.

no hedgehogs on this plate

no hedgehogs on this plate

Ted noticed me starting to slouch or drop my head and wanted to make fun of me for falling asleep before 6:00 pm. I suppose I could be embarrassed being the youngest one there and the first to pass out, but I’m not. I got them together for a family photo – with and without flash – and then Ted wanted to take a picture of the three of us. I couldn’t help but laugh. Most people who I hand my camera to can’t seem to figure it out – even when I do put on the live-view screen. I could’ve offered to take one of all four of us but the battery died and I didn’t feel like getting another one out of the car.

Terri heard about Piggy’s blanket stealing ways and gave us an extra thick one for tonight. The dogs and hedgehog can now dance a midnight ballet and Caleb can toss and turn, but I will be under this warm blanket dreaming about pie diets and their awesomeness. There is still plenty of crust covered apples and cherries waiting on the counter. Terri had some after I did, but the guys were too full from the seconds they had. Terri lets us know that she will be gone early in the morning – before we wake – and that she loves us.

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Snowshoeing in Yellowstone: Part Two

Posted on December 24, 2013 by TheJessicaness

bwstone

Well, time to move on to the rest of the Lower Terraces Area and then drive closer to the Upper Terraces so the dogs don’t have to be in the car alone as long while they wait on us. We pull out the snowshoes and I slip my city boots into them. There is two feet of strap to hold in the sides and top of my foot and a single piece around my ankle. There’s the overly sized clown skis that will grip and slide over the ice and snow, and the small plastic piece that is only connected under the ball of my foot to the ski making these shoes feel like flip-flops or reverse flippers.

We start out easy enough on flat ground, walking on a road that is closed for the winter, with plenty to see keeping us at a slow pace – not that learning how to walk again won’t do that too. Most of the people we pass will have on cross-country skis and took the path to the right – all downhill. We are on a 1.4 mile loop and will be climbing up for the duration. We passed a bald eagle and some mule deer on the way into the park so I’m anxious and watchful to see a rabbit, wolf, elk, or bighorn sheep – and am constantly turning around to listen to either tiny feet scurrying or the wind blowing the snow.

snowboots

We come to the Orange Spring Mound and I listen – to the crunching snow, the bubbling water, and the oohs and aahs of others. I want to touch it, to be a part of it, or bring it home. Instead I must take pictures and leave footsteps like everyone else as I know this geyser is perfectly fitted to its home like the fossa or lemur are in Madagascar. Our trudging steps feel like racing strides as we look at the green and yellow plants growing out of the windswept snow; as we pass the twisted trunks, naked branches, and evergreen trees; as the view expands revealing the buildings in the valley; and as the sound of other people becomes again more frequent.

It seems we’ve only been here a moment, but unless we rent a snowmobile and find a bed for the night, this is it for this trip. We are doomed to see the view going north – opposite of what we saw coming in – and another reason hiking is so attractive – because everything looks different and you aren’t too sure if you’re going the right way unless there are trail markers or paved roads. Along this unfortunate route we are forced to see a flawed landscape, lazy red grass, a boring mule deer with water on his chin, and stupid bighorn sheep walking across steep terrain like they belong there.

calebshoe

If that wasn’t torture enough, we get to drive by a dangerous elk in the road that is sticking his tongue out at us – ha ha, you have to leave and I get to stay here and stop traffic in both directions – power trip – I think so! I would’ve loved to stay within 15 feet (so much for the 75 feet distance rule) of this beautiful creäture, but in my vehicle is a squeaky dog who, at random, causes animals to run – either for food or out of fear – but I didn’t feel like finding out – even with witnesses to laugh at us and call for help, so I kept a slow passing speed.

There are plenty of hikes and tours on offer, but we had neither the time, funds, or reservations for such splendor. The view continues to amaze, and as we pass a field of horses I can’t help but think that those were cows on the way in… hmm. We are now two and a half hours away from dinner, conversation, and sleep. There is starting to be more snow on our windshield and less visibility. We stop at a small shop in Livingston to purchase new blades – third set for the front in two years and the first set for the rear.

Orange Spring Mound

Orange Spring Mound

Back on the road and I think we are making good time – even though we will be arriving after dark, but I can’t keep my eyes off the radiant, magnetic, and colorful sunset painting  on all 360 degrees of its canvas for my viewing pleasure. I ask Caleb to grab the wheel while I lean out the window of the driver’s side to get a picture of what will soon be below the horizon and onto Alaska, Baja California, and the southern half of Argentina. I may have forgotten, but science (wind and gravity) did not. The sunglasses that were resting so comfortably on my head soon became a bump in the road.

I should’ve stopped sooner. I would like to think that cheap sunglasses could easily withstand the forces of a 20 foot drop (projected) flying over 70 mph – speed limit in the late 90s was “reasonable and prudent”. I figured if capturing this photo was worth losing my sunglasses over then it well better be worth it to stop and take a few pictures while safely parked on the side of the road. This isn’t the first time Caleb has taken the wheel, but it is the first, and last, time that I let property become damaged litter.

oldvaly

Caleb called his mom to remind her that a vegetarian was coming over and asked if we should pick up something to eat for dinner – yes. When we stopped in Columbus for gas I went inside to look for something. I found mac-n-cheese hot pockets, an egg salad sandwich, and potato salad. I also found fifty-cent IPAs and went outside to grab my wallet (husband). He figured we could wait until the Wal-Mart in Laurel to get food and the attendant behind the counter reminded me of the amazing deal on frosty Long Hammers awaiting my hand, mouth, and stomach.

As we drive away with only two I think about how we could’ve bought a six-pack for a third of the price. I don’t know if they were supposed to be outdated or mislabeled, but that beer tasted just fine to me. In Laurel we have no problem finding the shopping supercenter – it’s the second brightest spot in the city next to the oil refinery. Inside we pick up some frozen veggies and then look for the nearest pizza place. With them closed we return to the Subway inside Wal-Mart, also closed, and end up eating leftovers from the cooler.

thirsty

We approach the one blinking light and turn right like Garmin suggests we do to get to Terri’s house, but when we have difficulty finding the place and give her a call she lets us know that they moved months ago to the woods of town to avoid having too many neighbors. We put that address in and it’s another twenty minutes until our arrival. The short distance to her house is the darkest, windiest, iciest, snowiest road we have encountered thus far, but the property makes it worth the drive.

There is ample parking in her driveway and we are greeted by Terri, Shooter (her black long-haired retriever), and Drago (her miniature pinscher), but not Ted because he had cans of Budweiser and shots of Red Stag for dinner and was already passed out in bed. Terri’s other dogs were very obedient and one used to fetch pennies. The big one climbs on you and the little one barks constantly – to the point of giving me a headache and making me plug my ears.

elktong

Well we can’t leave the dogs out in seventeen degree weather for long, so we bring them, food, and water into the bathroom and Drago pisses on the door. I’m used to dogs being vocal or trying to eat each other’s throats. When did they start pissing on each other? Terri misses Sparky and really wants to see him, but we won’t allow the dogs to be without a door between them. We move them from the bathroom to her office with a computer, bed frame, and hedgehog where they can sleep and be out-of-the-way.

We talk for a while and I help myself to some crackers on the table. We are gifted bread and butter pickles, homemade green apple sauce and apple butter, and some spicy pickles. I don’t remember what time it was when Terri offered us a pile of blankets and a couch for one and recliner for the other with the heads up that Shooter may be joining one of us in the middle of the night – not happening while our dogs cry in the next room. We grab the pile of blankets and ours from the car and pile them up in the bed frame – goodnight.

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Snowshoeing in Yellowstone: Part One

Posted on December 24, 2013 by TheJessicaness
Sammi, Caleb, Robert, Jessi

Sammi, Caleb, Robert, Jessi

We had set the alarm for 6:30 am. We could’ve woken at 5:30 and been gone before the girls woke up, but then we would’ve missed another morning routine with Jessi getting ready for work, talking with Robert, and watching Sammi run around while Lyra sleeps. It worked out for us too that Jessi showered last night. This gives us time and opportunity to bathe before our day planned on the road with sleep destination Fromberg – 340 miles away – without the detour into Yellowstone National Park.

This morning’s breakfast will be cold cereal for the girls, but we will leave before that happens. Caleb and I played a two-minute card game with Sammi. I waited inside, where it was cozy, while Caleb packed the car. We were getting ready to put the dogs in next when Sparky got bitch-slapped in the face by Harry (the curious orange cat). I think he was fine with the one-on-one him and Sparky had established, but Piggy was too prone to smile when she got near and Harry was having none of it.

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I had picked Sparky up and set him down thinking he was fine. It was Caleb that noticed the swollen lump on his face, the cut on his nose, and the blood that had already stained his shoulder and leg – WTF had I been looking at?! I wanted to panic, but I knew as soon as the bleeding stopped we should be good to go. I was able to get another ‘Caleb with family’ photo, Sammi signed Grandma Terri’s card, and with that in hand we took Jessi to work on our way out-of-town around 8:15 am.

I had Caleb look up cat scratch fever. I know some people think it’s just a silly song, but it can actually cause vomiting, fatigue, and inflamed lymph nodes. I wanted to know what to look for incase we had to take him to the vet, but Caleb assured me that as long as he didn’t have HIV his immune system would be able to handle it. With that settled, I could concentrate on the beauty of this morning’s drive. We make it to Butte, the fifth largest city in Montana, before I feel the need for a dose of caffeine.

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We are driving under a blanket of ashen sky with a promise of bright sunshine on the horizon, but also stimulating is the mass of colors accumulating between gray-blue-white-golden clouds and snowy-flaxen-dirty-Brunswick shades of mountains rising to meet them. Driving in a white winter has its perks – snowplows on the streets, salt and shovels in driveways, icicles on cars, rabbits hidden in the trail-side fluff, road closures, vehicles sliding and parking in the lane, and sharp debris flying into windshields.

The roads were clear, the driveways forgotten, there had been no rabbit sightings, and few cars on the highway – but the two that we did pass happened to give us a parting gift of a crack each in our windshield which is already highly reflective due to all the minor dust-size pits in it. The splits in our glass would both fit under a nickel, but cold causes everything to contract except for water, so I figured either way, warm or frozen, we would be getting a new see-through bug shield soon.

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We stopped in Bozeman at a Safelite AutoGlass repair shop to see whether they had the tools to fix or replace our windshield. A guy came out from the shop and let us know they had three cars ahead of us today and that he could get us in on Friday – today is Tuesday. had he been able to do the work it would’ve cost us $125 to fix or $319 to replace. We took a card from the counter that had two large circle stickers on it – made just for our problem, thanked him anyways, and went to put the bandage on our car in hopes that we could make it home before the cold made it in.

Next stop: crossing something off my bucket list – go snowshoeing in Yellowstone. Traffic picked up on the only road, the 89, that leads into the park during the winter and cars seemed to be using the slick spots on the pavement to their passing advantage – which shouldn’t be the case since you chose to drive in the first place – to enjoy the path as much as the destination, but I suppose if you flew, rented a car, booked one night, and have some other place to fly to the next day then your schedule would be a bit rushed.

pointsteam

Lucky for us, we have the day to stare at cows, mountains, clouds, electric lines and poles, guard rails and fences, trees, fields, and road signs covered in snow warning of bison on road – which is another reason we are here. We pass through the small town of Gardiner, with a population less than my hometown in Texas, to the ‘ol familiar Roosevelt Arch with a sign above it – “For the benefit and enjoyment of the people” – that’s us and we are excited to experience this place in a different season – and we aren’t the only ones.

There are kids sledding by the arch and cars parked around the gate, the entrance, and the first parking spot available. I show our park pass and am handed a brochure, winter  edition newspaper, and a warning sign to hang on my rearview mirror – letting me know the dangers that fast and aggressive elk can cause to me and my car; and to stay off the think crust of the thermal areas so my skin doesn’t get boiled. Well, either those signs are effective – for us and the animals – or I have more respect for others’ property and my life.

tricloud

I reminisce about our first time here and how it seemed we had forever, so I took hours getting to North Geyser Basin which is a 45 minute drive for other visitors. This visit gave us only until dark so I forced myself to drive past every snow-covered rock, every bit of white-water (for a mouse), and every tree playing in the clouds until we reached the Albright Visitor Center where I got my stamp and let the dogs go pee under the wooden walkway where there was dirt to be seen, not just piles of possible frozen lemonade.

We drive through the small village area and to the first parking lot. The boardwalk has been cleared of snow, for the most part, but it could’ve been covered in black widows or diamondbacks and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was so enamored with the contrast of frozen versus boiling water and the white formations looking bleached versus the colorful areas standing out to their pale surroundings – parts of which were covered in steam. This is a place that I could find religion, a spot to worship the great Earth’s evolution and power to create such beauty using wind, earth, fire, and water.

sunsteam

A short thank you prayer (or however you talk to the dead) goes out to Dr. Hayden and President Grant – the man who fought the most for this park’s creation and the man who signed it into being, respectively. I take about a hundred photos, and then one of us, to commemorate all the life and history that has been and will be a part of this place. I could die happy here, but voice that we could go home. This trip has been satisfying. Caleb is ready to change careers (as soon as his enlistment is up) and become a master of geology, biology, algology, edaphology, and any other ology that will let him live here.

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