Grand Canyon

After skipping a couple of weekend homes, it was great having Darlene come out to visit me (thanks, Mr. Jones) in Flagstaff.

Late Friday afternoon, she and I took a little run down US 89a toward Sedona.  As you descend down alongside Oak Creek, you are treated with vermillion cliffs that make you stop every chance you can, just to marvel at the beauty.

In Sedona, we weighed our options on eating and finally settling on The Cowboy Club where we both chowed down on a brisket sandwich.  I must mention that it had started raining that afternoon and found ourselves fighting for space under a hastily purchased undersized and over priced umbrella.  So that may have played a part in the decision for the Cowboy Club since it was in walking distance from the parking garage.

Making our way back up the beautiful Hwy 89a, we sat by the fire at the hotel and chatted with a couple of Canadians who knew more about the area than I did after 4 weeks here.

Saturday, we headed up to the Grand Canyon.  Arriving there, it was cold, wet and the visibility was less than opportune.  We were confronted with sudden storms of something called "graupel", a substance somewhere between hail, sleet and snow.  With that and the wet splattering snow, we rode east back to the eastern entrance and checked out the trading post in Cameron before giving up and coming back into Flagstaff.

Needless to say, Darlene was more than just a little disappointed in the canyon experience so for her last day here, we decided to try it again.  As we drove west on I-40, we began to see more snow and by the time we were to turn north at Williams, there was enough of it that we began seeing snow trucks dropping sand.  Within 20 miles north of the interstate, the heavens opened, the snow ceased and the sun came out and began to warm.  What  a difference a day makes.

We had not intended to walk as much as we did but found ourselves walking from the visitor's center all the way to El Tovar Lodge.  Along the way we were swarmed with Asian tour crowds and watched as they took selfies of themselves with hand held extensions for their iPhones.

Getting away from the bus stops, we still watched people taking extraordinary photo opportunities near the edges.  We heard stories of the more bullet proof visitors doing hand stand near the edge and we witnessed several near edge experiences.  Of course the older ones kept a safe distance.  Time being short, you just don't want to lose those extra days.

At one point we saw a very large bird taking advantages of the updrafts.  Having heard about the California Condors being released into the area I wanted to believe I saw one. Zooming in, I could see what appeared to be white numbers under the wings.  One man's Condor is another's buzzard.

I might have been wrong but still, this squirrel was keeping an eye out for it.

  As we walked, we couldn't help stopping, taking pictures and marveling at every turn along the trail.

Each and every view seemed to be more spectacular than the last.  As we walked, we speculated on how difficult the trail down the canyon would be and if we were able to not get down...but if we could get back up.  That place is deep. 

After walking better than 3 miles along the paved walkway, we came to a cliff that overlooked Bright Angel Trail, the more widely used trail

It's also the one that the mules take riders down.  I wouldn't ride one simply because I'd feel sorry for the mules.  It reminded me of the poor horse I rode up a trail on Maui last year.  In this picture, you can see a glimpse of the Colorado River.  The dark line in the top right is the bridge that hikers as well as the mules use to cross the river.

Anyway, we arrived at El Tovar, near the park shuttle connection, and had lunch there.  The prices were reasonable and the food was great.  I had the Reuben sandwich.

After taking the shuttle back, we got back into our car and rode around the camp grounds admiring some of the travel trailers and motor homes.  There were elk all over the place but looked pretty scruffy as they began losing their winter coats.

Along the way headed east, I was a sucker for every pull out along the canyon rim.

As we ended the trip, the sun was getting low which warmed up the canyon walls.

At Desert View, we could see the Colorado River quite well near the beginning of the larger canyon.

   It was a great trip and Ms Darlene hopes to return soon.

Noted visitors

Oak Alley

Since leaving Michigan, I took a quick tour through Kaufman, Texas and another couple of weeks in Moss Bluff, Louisiana.  Feeling a tad under the weather through both assignments, I simply just did not feel like going out on photo excursions.

However, my mother had not seen our new digs since we bought the new house in August, so I rode up on Boudreaux (the Harley-Davidson) Tuesday and drove her down in her new car for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Oh, I mentioned "new car" didn't I?  Well..... It seems that Mama failed to negotiate a narrow corner near her home last week, nailed a metal gate post and managed to knock the bumper completely off her 13 year old Chevrolet Lumina.  Neither Mama or the fence post on the corner suffered any damage but the cost to repair her car was more than it was worth, so she and my brother went on a car shopping spree and came up with a Chevy Malibu to replace it.

Not that it was a burden but when you have your Mama down, there is this innate drive to do your best to entertain her.  So, today I chose to drive her down the river road to Oak Alley.  Oak Alley is a historic plantation site dating back to 1840.  The trees that gave the plantation it's name were actually planted 100 years earlier by an unknown French settler.

Mama and I took the paid tour which turned out to be a really nice half day trip.  She and I both truly enjoyed hearing the history from the guide.  The giant Live Oak trees were spectacular and with rows of Crepe Myrtles and beds of Flocks, I'm sure it's even more lovely in the spring.

Here's a few pictures.

 

 

She will be 91, January 12, 2013.

Lighthouses of Lake Michigan

On Lake Michigan, there are 50 or so lighthouses. Some are large, old and works of art while others are small electronic structures.  Nevertheless, Michigan has 18 while Indiana has 6 and Illinois' contribution amounts to 30 or more.   Over the past few weeks, I've visited a few on the western shore in the state of Michigan.

Small lighthouse at St Joseph, Michigan

Little Sable Point Lighthouse, Pentwater, Michigan

White River Light Station, Whitehall, Michigan

Grand Haven Lighthouse, Grand Haven, Michigan

Just as I was about to leave the area, I saw a couple of people
in the water.  It's not something you would look for but found
a couple of surfers trying to catch a wave.  One who turned
out to be a girl was mildly successful.

Grand Haven Channel Marker, Grand Haven, Michigan

Ludington North Pierhead Lighthouse, Ludington, Michigan

Mackinac Lighthouse, Mackinaw, Michigan (one of several)

Near the Mackinac Lighthouse, is the mile long Mackinac
Bridge spanning lower Michigan and the upper peninsula.  It's
a big deal up here.

As an added curiosity, there is a windfarm being installed just
offshore of Lake Michigan, near Pentwater and Ludington.  A
quick count out the window, suggest a couple of dozen of them
scattered across the countryside.

Ms Darlene visits Oregon

Flying home is such a drag, especially when you're flying from the west coast to home and negotiating time zones.   It means to get home a decent hour, you pretty much have to be at the airport in Portland late morning and even with that, the possibility of landing in Baton Rouge or New Orleans can go way into the hours.  At least once, I've landed at midnight.

My company views flying a spouse to meet you as a gain because you don't lose the Friday going home and the Monday returning.  So with that in mind, Ms Darlene flew out for a long weekend in the northwest.

Originally, we'd planned on making a run up to Seattle but she said she'd prefer to see snow and mountains.  Ah ha! Mt. Hood would be just the ticket.

She flew out on a Thursday and so I took Friday off as a vacation day and blasted our way up to Mt Hood after visiting places like Multnomah and Wahkeena Falls .  Snow became very real by the time we reached Sandy, Oregon and she wasn't disappointed.   Many hotels higher on the mountain were booked solid so we booked a room at one of the lodges, just below the big ski area.  The scenery was gorgeous, especially for a couple of Louisiana residents, and spotted several deer near the lodge.

Saturday and Sunday was spent in and around the Timberline Lodge where we rode the ski lift up and gawked at the beauty like a pair of flatland goobers.

Ms Darlene has now deemed Portland/Mt Hood as her favorite place in the world and is now a Sneaux Bunny.  Bear in mind that she said the same thing about Maui, Los Angeles,  Honolulu and Carmel.  This too may pass.

Anyway, it was great and I loved her coming up for a long weekend and look forward to her joining me in another location.

After Portland, it's on to Denver for a brief two week assignment.

 

Weekend with Roy

.....Acuff, that is. Roy Acuff reigned supreme at the Grand Ole Opry when he was alive and well.

This past weekend, early Saturday, I left Huntsville, Alabama hoping to find an adventure in Nashville, Tennessee.

On weekdays, it must be a pretty robust place with lots of new building construction and sporting new 8 lane super highways. My GPS was leading me toward old downtown and the Ryman Auditorium.

If Nashville is Mecca to country music fans, the Ryman has to be the Holy of Holies.

A converted church that still has stained glass windows,the Ryman was the home of the Grand Ole Opry for years until Gaylord Entertainment began hosting it at Opryland.Years ago, Broadway Street was the heartbeat of country music. It's just a half block from the original Grand Ole Opry and spawned country stars like Roy Acuff, Little Jimmy Dickens, June Carter, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, Ernest Tubb, Minnie Pearl and others.

Many like Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson and Roy Orbison had early success there.

Still today, country music hopefuls make pilgrimages here in hopes for that rainbow, playing for tips during the day and playing in groups at Tootsie's and any number of bars during the night.

This town's brand is definitely music and the Music Row area is lined with music companies small and great.

As you drive the area, recording and production companies are separated only by attorney offices and virtually every light pole has a half dozen posters advertising some singer, musician or banjo player.


During the day, some open up their guitar cases and play for tips until time to tune back up at the lounges.

Nashville nods to others other than traditional hillbilly music icons. There's a Hard Rock Cafe and a Coyote Ugly with young men and women sporting multiple tattoos, body piercings and purple hair walking the sidewalks in front of the Wildhorse Saloon.

While many come here

in search of their dreams

some are not so lucky and found the end of that rainbow a place of discouragement, despair and loneliness.

But as Willie Nelson once sang, "Sad Songs And Waltzes Aren't Selling This Year".

At lunch, I dropped into a Chinese Restaurant. Just before leaving, the waiter plunked down the ticket on the table accompanied by the traditional Chinese Fortune Cookie. Ironically, the message in the cookie pretty much says it all.


(I promise, I really got this cookie and took the picture myself)

Call me a pessimist but I'd guess the lucky numbers wouldn't win me the lottery either.