Grand Canyon

 

elk    We travelled 2 days, spending the night in a Bakersfield California RV Park, and a Williams Arizona KOA, just outside of the Grand Canyon.  We woke both mornings to a very cold RV, 55 degrees inside the first morning and 64 degrees the next.  It was time to use the furnace at night!

We pulled into the Grand Canyon late morning on the 21st.  Our first order of business was getting a campsite at Mathers campground inside the Grand Canyon, on the South Rim.    Luckily, we got the last spot, and it was a tight fit.  It had no hookups, but that was fine.  We were just happy to have a space.

After getting the RV set up, we walked through the campground and up the road a bit to catch the shuttlebus.  The Grand Canyon, like Yosemite, had a free shuttlebus that would take you throughout the park.  We stopped first at the Visitor Center so the kids could get the information on how to become a Junior Ranger.  The Junior Ranger program was basically the same as Yosemite, fill out the booklet, attend a ranger led program, and answer some questions.  There were two programs we really wanted to attend, the Ranger Walk around the rim, and the Condor program.  Both were later in the afternoon, giving us some time to walk the rim of the Canyon ourselves.

Ok, to say we were underwhelmed at first, by the Grand Canyon, would be an understatement,  I’m not sure what we were expecting but this wasn’t it.  For one thing, it seemed very commercial,  Whereas at Yosemite, the park services and lodges were discreetly mingled into the background, here they were front and center.  Mostly the reason was  there were no tall pine trees here to block them out.  The foliage here was the small Juniper shrubs, and whereas in Yosemite we were in the Valley, here we were on the top or the rim.  Yosemite had a lot of visitors too when we were there, but you didn’t really feel it.  Here you couldn’t avoid it.  It was very nice to see all the international travellers.  We couldn’t be sure of all the nations represented but Japan, Germany and Italy definitely had strong showings. 

Around noon, when the sun was overhead, not casting any shadows or depth, we had our first view of the canyon.  It seemed just alright.   Not amazing.  We tried different overlooks and had the same reaction.  Not bad but not great.  Maybe it was us.  At 2 pm we went for our Ranger walk.  Our ranger was good.  He led us on a short rim walk, talking about the birds of prey in the Grand Canyon.  As he talked, we were treated to Peregrine Falcons darting overhead. and an occasional red tailed hawk.  During the walk/talk, he told us to be aware of the elk in the park.  It was mating season and the elk were very unpredictable.  There were signs all over the park reminding us to stay 45 feet away from the elk, and he said it was very important to keep our distance. Fine.  I was really interested in seeing a bear, an elk?  Not so much.

After our rim walk, we hurried over to the Lookout for the Condor Talk.  California Condors are very rare and while they have been reintroduced into the Grand Canyon, they still aren’t often spotted.  During the ranger program she talked about the efforts to save and reintroduce the birds back into the wild.  With 5 minutes left in the program, as if on cue, a lone condor flew over our group.  We didn’t have time to get a picture, but we consider ourselves very lucky to see such a large graceful bird in the wild.

The kids finished up their ranger books and we headed to the Visitor Center for them to be sworn in and receive their badges.  After that we decided that watching the sun set over the Grand Canyon might be worthwhile.  We were right.  We sat at the Lookout and watch the sun’s dying light cast purple and red shadows on the rocks, highlighting a few deep canyons we hadn’t seen before.  The Canyon really needs the play of light, highlighting certain nooks, giving depth to the deepest areas, and illuminating the colors in the rocks.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay until dark, as our campground didn’t have lights, and our campsite was a fair walk from the shuttle bus stop.  Without sunlight, or a flashlight, we would never find it, so reluctantly, we headed to the shuttlebus stop.

Sitting, waiting for the bus, Tessa was sitting across from me.  All of a sudden she looks behind me and yells “Elk!”  I turned around, and sure enough, coming well within the recommended 45 feet safe zone, was a huge, male elk.  I had never seen an  elk in the wild before, and was just amazed by this one.  He walked only about 15 feet away from us, coming up from the parking lot below, heading to the grass near the lodge and bus shelter, stopping to graze on the green grass.  He was huge.  I imagined an elk would be very much like a big deer.  There was no comparison.  The size was one thing, but how he carried himself was another.  He walked calmly by us, head up, proud, his eye on us the whole time.  He wasn’t a bit worried about us, he wanted us to know we needed to be worried about him.  An elk’s antlers can weigh up to 30 pounds, and you could tell how heavy and powerful his neck was as he carried his head high.   I have really never been so in awe of a wild animal.  As he grazed, people got as close as they dared for pictures.  We watched him for a long time until our bus came and took us back to our campground.

It was warm enough that night that we were able to eat our dinner outside on the picnic table.  Dan built a fire and the kids roasted marshmallows.  The campground was so dark, we were able to get a great view of the Milky Way.  The kids and Dan went inside first, and I stayed outside watching the sky.  Soon it was too cold, and the dark campground was making scary noises, so I started to head in.  As I came around the front of the RV, I heard a noise, and scared myself, sure a huge elk was hiding in the trees.  Later inside the RV,  it was so quiet.  Too quiet.  Tessa, glanced toward the closed shades and said  “I saw some kind of light or something go by.”

I looked at her.  Tristan looked at me.  Our imaginations started running wild.  I was thinking of all the scary movies I had seen of people in the woods.  Dark nights, no lights, no one around, suddenly…….  BANG! BANG!  There was a loud knock on the door.  The kids and I nearly jumped out of our skin. 

“Dan,” I nearly screamed, “Some one’s at the door!”

Dan who had been in the back, watching something on his computer, walked to the door, looking at us like we were crazy.  It was a park ranger.  First, she informed us that we couldn’t run our generator because it was quiet hours.  (Yes, we noticed the quiet!)  Secondly, we had left our fire outside unattended.  As she said this, her hand reached for the gun on her hip and she said to Dan “Just give me a reason”

Sorry.  She didn’t say that.  She just told him to turn off the generator and not to leave a fire unattended.  Still, it was scary.  You know, people ask me all the time, don’t you get scared out on the ocean?  Your out there, in a strange country, maybe by yourself in a dark cove, aren’t you afraid of pirated?  I can honestly say, that doesn’t scare me.  I have been much more afraid inside the RV.  I guess because on the boat, we are as much outside as inside, even at night. In an RV, once you go in, everything is shut up, the doors, the curtains, you kind of cocoon.  Even though we sleep with the windows open, still we are locking ourselves away from the outside and that I think makes you more afraid.

Anyway, we made it through the night, woke up early and went for a short hike down the trail leading into the canyon.  We didn’t go very far.  On every trail are warnings telling you not to try to hike to the bottom and back up in the same day.  So far this year they have rescued nearly 300 hikers who have tried.  We just wanted to be able to say we went on a trail, so about a quarter mile down was enough for us.  The early morning light did change our opinion again of the Grand Canyon.  It was beautiful, and I’m glad we saw it, but I don’t feel a need to ever go back.  We hopped back into “Awesome” and headed to Sedona.

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The Amtrak California Zephyr

At 1:30pm we found the line forming to board our train, the Amtrak California Zephyr.   It was a very mixed group of passengers.  There was, of course, the long haired, flowing beard, poncho wearing, Jesus look alike, whom I’m sure is mandatory on every Greyhound bus and train in America. He contrasted nicely with the Amish, with their old fashioned trousers and vests, hats and beards. I thought Amish shunned the modern world, but this family must have needed to travel far.  The final destination of our train was San Francisco.  Dan and I really couldn’t see the Amish in San Francisco and figured they would be exiting somewhere around Nebraska. Another oddity were two people who for some reason couldn’t stop high fiving each other.  Over and over again, without saying a word, they would slap their palms together, high overhead.  We couldn’t tell what prompted this, it just seemed to happen for no reason.  Strange.  The senior citizens formed a majority of the group. No children, but several twenty somethings and a few international travellers. Finally there seemed to be an unusually high number of musicians, or people carrying guitars or other instruments. They didn’t seem to be together, but maybe train travel brings out the musician in all of us.

Closer to boarding time, the senior citizens were allowed to move into the inner waiting room first. They let us in with them as we had “small children”. I don’t consider our kids small but we’ll take it. The attendant in the inner waiting room kept telling us to sit down, but there was no place left to sit. All the seats were full and there were still about 25 of us standing. She complained to the other attendant, “I don’t know why they are all standing. We aren’t boarding yet. They need to sit down!” The other attendant must have clued her into the fact there were no more seats as the other section was roped off. Finally she got it, opened up the other section and STRONGLY encouraged us to sit down. Within moments of our sitting down, she called on us to head to the train.

We have coach seats, and there are no reserved seats in coach.  I wanted to board as soon as possible to make sure we had seats together. Dan wanted to board as late as possible to make sure we had seats NOT near the poncho guy or the high fivers. I thought it might be fun to sit next to the older Latino gentleman with the guitar. The fact that the guitar was not in a case signalled to me he was ready to play and ready to play often. Unfortunately it signalled the same thing to Dan who didn’t have quite the same romantic notion of a Spanish serenade. We didn’t have to choice though. We walked up to the agent located by the train car, and she assigned us a car and seat by our destination. Our seat assignment put us in the second to last car, in front of a senior citizen travel group headed to Reno Nevada.

To say we were overwhelmed by our seats would be an understatement. There was so much room! The seats were wide and extremely comfortable, reclining not as far as our “semi cama” bus seats in Peru but enough to be comfortable. A footrest came out and turned your seat into a “LazyBoy”. Even when the seat in front of you was fully reclined, you had plenty of room. A huge window allowed an uninterrupted view.  It was a far cry from cramped airline seating.  The takeoff was on time and so smooth we only knew we were moving by the changing scenery outside our window. The high rises and lofts of Chicago were gradually replaced by small urban neighborhoods and towns with brightly painted, old fashioned depots. The train glided past large green lawns, main streets, and parks with children, through people’s backyards and behind businesses.  It seemed as if every small town was having some type of festival, with small crowds gathered near tents in the middle of town, and children riding on small carnival rides. It was a nice glimpse into Midwestern end of summer days.  Some people ignored the passing train completely, while others waved enthusiastically.  After years of waving to people on passing trains, I was excited to be the one waving back.

The train rolled on further gathering speed, and gradually the chic towns were replaced further west by working class, down on their luck towns, until these too were replaced by endless rows of corn and soybeans. It was then that Debbie, our car attendant, introduced herself and encouraged us to get out of our seat and explore the observation car, the snack car and in general move around the train. We took her advice and headed to the observation car. Dan got us drinks from the snack bar, located the floor below the Observation car, and we relaxed and watched the world go by. As we were enjoying ourselves, two women came into the car, and sat next to a couple who apparently they had met earlier on the train.  Some of the people on board had actually started on the east coast.  One of the women said she had gotten on in Charlotte.  Then she thought again and was sure it was Charlottesville. The women were very outgoing, with heavy Southern accents which we heard when one of them commented said she had gotten on in Charlotte.  Then she thought again and was sure it was Charlottesville.  Anyway she was sure it was someplace in Virginia.  Her and her friend travelled a lot.  “I always travel, even when I’m hungover.”  They were funny and seemed nice, but hard partiers and it was fun listening to them talk.  We dubbed them the “Mount Pilot” girls (to understand you needed to watch the  Andy Griffith show).  Even the Amish weren’t immune to the Mount Pilot girls charm as later I was a bit surprised to find one of the men, enjoying a Root Beer and the ladies company.  You can take the man out of the city but you can’t take the city out of the man!

A side note here.  I don’t want to seem judgemental of my fellow passengers, just looking at them through a humorous lens.  The amazing thing to me was how everyone, even from such different backgrounds, got along.  Everyone was so relaxed, friendly and really tried to get to know the other passengers.  It  was very reminiscent of a sailing community.  It will be hard returning to airline travel.

The next morning, we pulled into Denver early. We got off the train to look around, but everything was closed, so we enjoyed a snackbar breakfast in the Observation car. We had been told to make sure we had a seat in the Observation car for the leg from Denver, across the Rockies. I’m glad we had seats as the car filled up quickly. Dan, Tessa and I sat at a table.  Tristan sat in a seat on the left side of the train, next to an elderly gentleman who was a veteran train traveller, giving Tristan a bit of history about the route. The view was impressive, switchbacks snaking their way up the mountain, peaks in the distance still clinging to a bit of snow from last winter, and if you looked close you would see a few Mule Deers grazing near the tracks. We passed ski resorts, then for a long time we followed the Colorado River. The river was in heavy use with rafters and fly fisherman, surprising for this late in the summer. The colors were incredible, the glistening river lined with red rocks, giving way to green grasses and bushes just hinting at turning brown. I couldn’t leave my seat,  afraid I would miss something.  Even after Dan went back to coach seat to take a nap, I stayed wrote in my journal, talking to other passengers and just enjoying the myself.

The Observation car became my permanent home the rest of the trip. With the glass windows overhead and the huge side windows, going back to my seat, except to sleep, seemed a little gloomy. In the mornings, I woke up early and headed straight to the Observation car to get table for all of us. The seating was a choice of chairs which faced out either side, or tables (like dinette tables). To me, the tables gave you a better view, so that’s was where I was from sun up to sundown.  I only left to use the restroom and twice we left the table to eat lunch in the dining car.  I’m ashamed to say that I selfishly left our things on our table so it would be there when we got back.  I couldn’t help myself.     I couldn’t get enough of the changing scenery passing the window.  Tristan and Tessa joined me most of the time, and Dan, when he wasn’t napping, would join whatever game we were playing.  One elderly lady didn’t like it that we sat at the table so much and kept walking by making snide remarks like “Are you leaving soon? There’s a time limit on the tables.”  That really made me mad.  Are we doing this Grandma???  First there was no such thing as a time limit on the tables, second, I was sacrificing naps to reserve my seat and third, she only complained to us and not the other table sitters who had been sitting there all day. In fact she had been sitting in one of the side seats the same amount of time we had been at the table.  I woke up extremely early in the morning to get my spot and I was staying.  “It’s on Grandma!”

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observation car 2 Dan napping in the Observation car

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view 5 Amtrak  Coach seating

We loved the Amtrak train!

Arikok National Park Aruba

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During our drive around Aruba, we visited the caves in Arikok National Park.  We had been there before, but this time when we went with our friends, the park service guys were there to give us a tour.   Valentino, our guide was very friendly and outgoing.  He  did a really great job showing off the cave, making sure we saw the cave drawings,  left by the Caquetio Indians.  At one point he had us all crawling, nearly on our bellies, to a cavern deeper in the cave.  There Valentino pointed out some seldom seen hand prints left by the Indians.  That was really amazing.  The Caquetio Indians came to Aruba over 4000 years ago, making their way from Venezuela, and eking out a small existence of fishing and farming on this “desert” island.  That all ended when the Spanish, led by Alonso de Ojeda arrived on Aruba in 1499.  He was looking for gold, and declared the island useless when he couldn’t find any.  He did find strong able Indians whom he captured and made slaves, sending them off to other Spanish colonies to work.  In what became an all too familiar story, another indigenous tribe was wiped out.  It was very humbling, crouched in that small space, seeing those handprints, thinking about who might have sat in this same spot, rubbing red paint into their hand, then placing it on the wall, leaving a print that thousands of years later, we would find. 

 

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cbat 1  Of course, what is a cave without a bat, or several bats!