Tag Archives: Climb a Mountain

Life’s a Trip – When Work is Play

This is the 4th in the Life’s a Trip series.

The American Dream isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.  A house with a two-car garage and a nice yard in the suburbs is not what everybody wants.  In middle class America sometimes it is assumed that we will raise our kids to go to the right school to get the right degree to land the right job, find the right spouse, and raise the right family – who will do it all over again.

That’s fine if it is what you want, but very often middle-agers wake up one morning and discover they are tired of working the job, tired of paying the mortgage, and tired of weeding and feeding and mowing those relentless lawns.

They suddenly realize that maybe they are living somebody else’s dream.

I think the best case scenario is when young people don’t assume that life has to be lived in a certain way – before they rack up all that college debt, mortgage debt and credit card debt that seems to go with the status quo.

If you like what you are doing, it is more like play than like work.  You can work 9 to 5 and love it and go home at the end of the day refreshed.

But if you have become weary of the rat race, maybe it is time to look for a change.

I loved my first 20 years of school teaching.  But after that, it started to get old.  I had a different roster of students every year, but the same age-appropriate behaviors.  My school board offered an early buy-out for experienced (top of the pay scale) teachers, and I went for it.

To change things up a bit I took a leave of absence during my 19th year of teaching and took my family to a foreign country to teach at an international school. What a trip!

It was actually too early for me to retire, and I had always wanted to work more with my hands; I took the chance to start a log home construction company that employed a mobile crew of carpenters who built new log homes all over the state of Michigan.  I had a wonderful crew of workers, and I loved getting up every morning and going to work.

I had my second wind and was living my second dream for the next 8 years.

Two of my carpenters were positioning a porch post of a new log home up north.

Then the housing market in Michigan collapsed and there wasn’t any more work.  I had to lay off the crew.

Okay then, my next dream had been to operate a business in barn recycling and again I went for it.  I rented a huge forklift and dismantled unwanted barns, hiring a couple of helpers to de-nail and sort the materials.  I sold a lot of the boards, and constructed furniture from the vintage material to sell on the side.  I even constructed several rustic log cabins that I sold online and shipped across the country.

I was having fun again.

I built this deacons bench starting with an old barn loft door and building it forward from there.
This log cabin from old barn beams was sold on eBay and shipped to North Carolina.

Then we got the epic idea to sell our property and hit the road full-time in a 29-foot RV.  Oh, the places we went!  Surf this blog and you will see an amazing variety of places we experienced over several years.

We visited 49 states and drove the Alaska Highway with our truck and RV.

But after a while, we found the downside of that too.  We missed the kids and the grandkids when we were down south for those long winters.

And now we are pursuing the next wild dream.  We have bought a historical house, a fixer-upper in the city and started ripping down old wallpaper and plaster.

More fun!

I can’t wait to get into the upstairs rooms of the old place with a paint brush!

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I think we all wise up as we get older.  Well, most of us do.  We develop a philosophy of life as we go.  And I guess this post is about ideology as much as it’s about a timeline of my life.

As much as it is possible, I think we should seek to do the things we enjoy.  Somebody said to use your resources to buy experiences, not just stuff.

If the old job has become monotonous, maybe we should change directions.  It is not always easy, and it doesn’t always happen right away.  When I wanted to get out of teaching, I started to work toward getting my builder’s license three years before the next retirement buy-out was offered by my school district allowing me to retire and start collecting a pension.

If change is not possible, I would look for ways to adapt my lifestyle to make it more enjoyable.  It’s calling living for the weekend, and millions live life this way, but it is better than hating every day of your existence.

A final word:  Sometimes the things we enjoy are not obvious.  We have to try things out in order to discover our passion.  It can take years, it can take decades to find the fun.  Shoot, it can take a lifetime of happily skipping from one thing to the next.

This too:  Sometimes the passion will change.  Some things just run their course.  When a door closes, be a good finisher… and move on.

And then you can be off to try out the next new thing.

Oh, yeah, there was this too: We also owned a Christmas tree farm for about 20 years.

Life’s A Trip – In a Pickup Truck

This is the first in the Life’s A Trip series featuring different ways we are approaching  this journey of life.

Life’s a journey – whether you are on the road to adventure or parked in one spot for a while.  There are many different stops along the way.

This is about the places we have discovered while venturing around the U.S. in a four-wheel-drive pickup truck for the last couple of years.

We were living in a historical old log cabin at the tree farm when the wanderlust hit.
We were living in a historical old log cabin at the tree farm when the wanderlust hit.

We had lived in the same place for over 40 years when we looked around one day and saw that our kids were grown up and moved away and exploring distant horizons.  We looked at each other and decided we could do that too.  Selling the 30-acre homestead, we downsized our stuff, upgraded the RV and took off.  We spread a map on the kitchen table, closed our eyes and jabbed a finger at…  Alaska.  (It wasn’t quite that random; we had a daughter living and working in Alaska every summer and had been wanting to go there for a long time.)

Summer was months away, so I got a work-camp assignment at an old campground in Fillmore California for the winter and spring.

We are ready; let's go!
We are hitched up, packed up, and ready to go!

Michigan to California

As we rolled along the prairie, the tumbleweed was rolling too.
We rolled along the prairie across Oklahoma and Texas – like a tumbleweed rolling in the wind.
We were the only visitors on a January day at Red Rocks State Park near Mojave, California.
We were the only visitors on a January day at Red Rocks State Park near Mojave, California.
Parked at the campground for the winter, I worked half-time for our campsite with all the hookups.
Parked at the campground for the winter, I worked half-time for our campsite.

We had family nearby at Santa Barbara and accompanied them to the beaches and eateries in the area.

California to Alaska

Summer came and leaving our work-camp assignment, we headed north up the Pacific Coast Highway toward the Canadian border.

The campground is linear at Seacliff, California, 2 miles long and 20 feet wide.
The oceanside campground is linear at Seacliff, California, 2 miles long and 20 feet wide.

We drove 1900 miles before reaching the beginning of the Alaska Highway at Dawson Creek, British Columbia.

Dawson Creek, BC

The mountains were forest-covered a Chilliwack, BC.
The mountains were forest-covered at Chilliwack, BC.
The Alaska Highway is 1500 miles of rugged mountains, valleys, forest and tundra.
The Alaska Highway is 1500 miles of rugged mountains, valleys, forest and tundra.
Sometimes we had a campground to ourselves and were off the grid.
Sometimes we had a campground to ourselves and were completely off the grid.

After 15 days of driving we arrived at Denali Park where our daughter was working and living for the summer.  We stayed through the middle of the summer.

Our campsite was nestled behind the log cabin shops near the entrance of Denali National Park.
Our campsite was nestled behind the log cabin shops near the entrance of Denali National Park.
I spent the summer hiking and four-wheeling around Denali.
I spent the summer hiking and four-wheeling around Denali.

Our trek back to Michigan in the late summer took 11 days returning over the same mountain passes and open prairie.

Michigan to the Gulf of Mexico.

After spending the late summer and fall in Michigan, we set our sights on the south, again hoping to escape the harsh northern winter.  Leaving at the end of December, we arrived in Memphis on New Years Eve for dinner and a party at B.B. King’s Blues Club.

Our campsite at Tom Sawyer campground was right on the shore of the Mississippi River.
Our campsite at Tom Sawyer campground was right on the shore of the Mississippi River.

We arrived the next evening at Dauphin Island, Alabama for a month of barefoot beach walking and languishing in beach chairs.

The beaches are white sand along the Gulf at Dauphin Island.
The beaches are white sand along the Gulf at Dauphin Island.
Dauphin Island is blessed with many miles of good bike paths.
Dauphin Island is blessed with many miles of good bike paths.

The local Mardi Gras parade marched right by our campground.  We also visited New Orleans on a day trip.

Alabama to Florida

I was delighted to arrive in St. Augustine, Florida and discover that driving on the beach is a thing there, four-wheel-drive required.

St. Augustine Beach drive

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At low tide the beach is 100 yards wide and allows plenty of room for drivers, bikers, and walkers.

Up the East Coast

In the spring, we wandered up the east coast through Georgia and South Carolina, staying for a month at Emerald Isle, North Carolina, then stopping for a few days in Virginia from where we made day trips to Washington D.C. visiting the major sites by means of the double-decker bus.

Driving on the beach is permitted at Emerald Isle... for a price.
Driving on the beach is permitted at Emerald Isle… for a price.

Arriving back in Michigan, we spent the summer at a campground with a bike trail and a small lake.

Our campground was only a few miles from the grandkids, so we had company often.
Our campground was only a few miles from the grandkids, so we had company often.

At the end of the year, we parked the rig for a while and flew to the tropics for the winter.  That’s another story.

In the spring we decided to take a break from the gypsy life for a while. We moved into a small apartment in a small town in Michigan.

West again to Utah – the Pickup Camper

We were enjoying staying put for a while, but for some time I had been planning a return to the southwest for a photo shoot in the canyons of Utah.  Rather than haul the RV, I switched to a pickup camper that was just big enough for one person.

Getting off the highway, I looked for the most remote and solitary places that I could get to with a sturdy four-wheel-drive pickup.

On the trail to Cathedral Valley, Capital Reef. I had to ford the Fremont River to get to this lonely 2-track.
On the trail to Cathedral Valley, Capital Reef National Park, I had to ford the Fremont River to get to this lonely 2-track.
On a rainy day at Devil's Garden near Escalante, Utah, I was glad not to be camping in a tent.
On a rainy day at Devil’s Garden near Escalante, Utah, I was glad not to be camping in a tent.
The drop-offs along the White Rim Road command a lot of respect in Canyonlands National Park.
The drop-offs along the White Rim Road command a lot of respect in Canyonlands National Park.
I had to drive the pickup onto boulders to level the camper at Valley of the Gods.
I had to drive the pickup onto some stones to level the camper at Valley of the Gods.
I camped at the foot of a tall butte at Valley of the Gods.
I camped at the foot of a tall butte at Valley of the Gods.
Getting to the White Rim Road required driving through creek beds and crossing dry washes.
Getting to the White Rim Road required driving through creek beds and crossing dry washes.

So, there you have it.  These are only a few of the many places we have visited with a pickup truck over the last couple of years.  There are more ahead of us, I’m sure.

People often ask us what is our favorite spot and we never know what to say.  It’s impossible to narrow it to one location.

I guess we will have to keep looking.

One thing is for sure though:  the most frequent campsite we have enjoyed has been the Walmart parking lot.  But so far, we have not visited the same one twice.

Camping in the parking lot at Walmart, Grand Junction, Colorado.
Camping in the parking lot at Walmart, Grand Junction, Colorado.

If you want a scare, view my YouTube video:  A White-knuckle Drive on the White Rim Road.

6 Boondocking Campsites for Loners – In the Southwest

This is the 9th in the Southwest Safari series

These are isolated locations where lone wolf campers can be alone and most of these sites are free.  All of these are legal camping sites.

First, a reminder that boondocking is rustic camping without hookups. Some of these sites don’t even have a toilet, so you have to be comfortable with alternatives. Fortunately for me, I was hauling a pickup camper which was entirely self-contained and I could store my compost in a holding tank until reaching a dump site.

Pleasant Creek National Forest Campground

The first of the rustic campsites on my recent photography trip to the American Southwest was at a deserted forest campground along highway 12 in the mountains between Capitol Reef National Park and Escalante, Utah. At about 7000 feet elevation, this spot was a cool island of pine and poplar woods surrounded by lower deserts of bare rock.

Forests are rare in the southwest where the desert heat is a killer.
Forests are rare in the southwest where the desert heat is a killer.

The campground had pit toilets and delicious well water. All alone for the night, my campsite cost $6 which is half the usual rate because of my senior pass which also gets me into all national parks for free.

Pleasant Creek Nat'l Forest Campground is a cool respite on Highway 12 north of Boulder, Utah
Pleasant Creek Nat’l Forest Campground is a cool respite on Highway 12 north of Boulder, Utah

There were two other national forest campgrounds within a half mile and there were a couple of campers there for the night.  This was in September.

Hole-In-The-Rock Road, Escalante, Utah

Devil's Garden

After exploring the intriguing rock formations at Devil’s Garden off Hole-in-the-Rock Road, I found an isolated pull-off a couple of miles south and west across from the access track to the dinosaur tracks site (I didn’t cross the dry wash into dinosaur tracks because the steep sideways slope threatened to roll my camper over).

High clearance and four wheel drive are helpful on any of the side tracks from Hole-in-the-Rock Road.
High clearance and four wheel drive are essential on any of the side tracks from Hole-in-the-Rock Road.
The only other sign of life was the wild horse plops on the hills next to my camper.
The only sign of wildlife was the wild horse plops on the hills next to my camper.

This spot was essentially nothing more than a level field where I could pull off the road.  The sound of the light rain on the roof of the camper during the night lulled me to sleep.

Paria Contact Station

East of Kanab, Utah, there is a ranger station with some helpful volunteers on staff.  After driving through heavy rain coming down from Escalante all day, I was leery of crossing the gully at Buckskin Wash even with four wheel drive.  I figured a flashflood was coming that could prevent me from returning to the highway for several days.  Their solution for me was a gravel pit on the top of the mountain behind the station.  I had a free campsite with no neighbors.

I had a view of the Paria River valley from the summit.
I had a commanding view of the Paria River valley from the summit.

The next morning I looked down on a raging Paria River rushing at 30 miles an hour.  I decided to change my itinerary and stay out of the slot canyons where the water level rose from ankle deep to 30 feet deep overnight.  Deadly!

Valley of the Gods

This was my favorite campsite for pure desert grandeur.  I chose a spot at the foot of a huge stone butte where I could see for twenty miles toward the distant towers of Monument Valley.  The camping is free for a limit of 14 days at each spot.

Valley of Gods butte

Valley of gods camp

Valley of God view

One word of caution here.  If you approach Valley of the Gods from the south off highway 163 you can reach the campsites with a medium-sized motor home or trailer.  If you come in from the west on 261 as I did, you will cross no less than 20 dry washes with steep grades that will test the fortitude of your four wheel drive rig.  Don’t take your 40-foot coach in here from either direction.

Butler Wash

Five miles west of Bluff, Utah, on highway 163, open the cattle gate and drive through, then close it behind you.  You are on Butler Wash Road at the south end of a broad valley flanked by rocky cliffs on both sides.  Among those cliffs there are many hidden Navajo cliff dwellings.  Camping is free at any of the side tracks on this 25-mile long four wheel drive road.  Yes, again, you must not take a long wheel-base vehicle in here; you’ll get hung up in a step ravine trying to climb out the other side.

Butler Wash

You are sure to be alone with only the night wind to keep you company.  (Read about my adventure at Pedestal Rock Ruin here.)

7-Mile Parking

A few miles northwest of the town of Moab, Utah, on highway 191 there is a privately owned parking lot with nicely leveled gravel lots and porta-johns.  There are no other perks except its strategic location near the entrances of Arches National Park and Canyonlands National Park.  I found it almost impossible to get a campsite at the national parks so this little spot was a real blessing to me and I stayed several consecutive nights paying the measly $5 per night.  What a great staging area for rafting the Colorado River, dirt biking the slick rock at Behind the Rocks, or four wheeling the epic off-road challenges around the area.  Moab has provisions of all kinds.  You can even rent a Jeep or ORV there.

7 Mile Parking is surrounded by the rugged terrain of southern Utah.
7 Mile Parking is surrounded by the signature rugged terrain of southern Utah.  It is right next to the entrance to Gemini Bridges Road, a rugged off-road trail for four wheelers.

These are a few of the great boondocking campsites of southern Utah.  I passed up many others.  Much of the desert southwest is managed by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) where free – or almost free – camping is permitted with only a few restrictions.

Somebody with the ultimate off-road camper was enjoying the almost-free campsites on BLM land near Fisher Towers 20 miles east of Moab.
Somebody with the ultimate off-road camper was enjoying the almost-free campsites on BLM land near Fisher Towers 20 miles east of Moab.

Happy camping!

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Read about my adventure near 7-Mile Parking on the White Rim Road:

3 Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot Out of Me

The Chasms at Canyonlands

This is the 8th in the series.

Canyonlands National Park is a vast area of bare rock cliffs, mesas, and canyons.  It is trisected by the Colorado and the Green Rivers which divide it into the three districts, the Needles, the Maze, and Island in the Sky.  Most tourists only visit the highest area, Island in the Sky, which is a huge flat-topped mesa surrounded on three sides by the canyons.  The Needles is reached via a single rugged road, and The Maze is entirely deserted but for a few adventurers coming down the river on rubber rafts or an occasional fly-over by a sightseeing airplane.

The defining theme of Canyonlands is the grand vistas available from the edges.  The road on Island in the Sky provides easy access to the edge of the cliff that offers such expansive views that they are almost incomprehensible.  The hiking trails are likewise perched on edges.

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From the edge of the high mesa the views into the canyons are almost mind-boggling.
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Photographers love the orange glow on the bottom of Mesa Arch when the light is right.

I was glad to be without small children when I was at Canyonlands because there are unguarded drop-offs everywhere.

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Where were the parents of these two sisters who crawled to the edge for a better view of the chasm 2200 feet below?
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From Island in the Sky one can view the White Rim 1200 feet below and the secondary drop to the Colorado River in a chasm called Monument Basin.

In my experience, there seems to be a psychological connection between risk and adventure:  The greater the perceived risk, the greater the sense of adventure.  Because of this phenomenon, I would call Canyonlands a high-adventure location. There is an abundant risk factor because of the abundance of edges.  The drives and the hikes all require frequent encounters with the edge.

After exploring Island in the Sky, adventurers who can afford the time and want to multiply their sense of adventure will likely drop down off the edge via the Shafer Trail and explore the White Rim Plateau 1200 feet below.

canyonlands-shafer-hdr-boost
The Shafer Trail drops 1200 feet in 2 miles of scary switchbacks and tight hairpin turns.

The White Rim Road is another level of high risk and delivers correspondingly high adventure.  It follows the edge of the Colorado River canyon for 100 miles of rough one-lane rocky off-roading fun.  (See my scary YouTube video of a 3-mile stretch of the road at the bottom.)

white-rim-road-pickup-2
My pickup and camper were dwarfed by the dizzying drop-offs of the White Rim Trail.

My drive on a section of the White Rim Road was a bucket list experience never to be forgotten.  Those with a fear of heights will be ill-advised to attempt either the Shafer Trail or the White Rim Road.

Visitors with Jeeps and high-clearance SUV’s will have the easiest time at Canyonlands National Park.  Despite the huge expanses of geography, the parking lots on Island in the Sky are small, and below the rim the turns are too tight for the big rigs.  If you want to get off the high mesa and explore the more challenging areas below, it’s best to leave the RV in the town of Moab and rent a Jeep.

Otherwise, there will be chaos in the chasm.

Beyond the Jeep trails, there are multiple adventures for river rafters, hikers and mountain bikers.

If you like adventures on the edge.

canyonlands-false-kiva-view-hdr
This panorama is from my hike on the edge to the obscure cliff dwelling, False Kiva.

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Read more about my scary hikes: 4 Cliff Dwellings that Put Me on the Edge

Read more about my scary drives: 3 Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot Out of Me

View my 11-1/2 minute YouTube video: A White Knuckle Drive on the White Rim Road  (You will leave my blog)

4 Cliff Dwellings that Put Me on the Edge

This is the 5th in a series on the Southwest.   Find the others in the left sidebar or at the bottom of this post.

Sometimes I can’t believe how I get into such scary spots…  and then I remember exactly how it happens: I am always looking for the obscure sites where there is nobody else around. I don’t like crowds, but for a photographer, they usually come with the job.

Not so with the obscure Navajo ruins of the southwest.  Three of these four sites are not even on a map; I found them through some meandering research, and some of them I had completely to myself.  Now that’s what I’m talking about.

There is a reason why the hundreds of ancient ruins are not publicized and it has to do with preservation.  Heavy traffic can destroy irreplaceable artifacts in a short time.  Most of these locations are protected by conservation laws, but that doesn’t stop some folks from picking up a curious arrowhead here or a stone tool there…  and soon there is no way for archaeologists to piece together the true history of the place when they eventually get to study the site.  Obscurity is their best protection.

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Looks like the Himalayas, doesn’t it? But it’s not Tibet; it’s here in southern Utah.

Pedestal Rock Ruin

I don’t think there is anything to worry about when it comes to the long-term preservation of this amazing location.  Not only is it difficult to reach by road,  it is perched on a high ledge that can’t be reached without risk to life and limb.  It’s just not worth taking the chance.

Further, though it is in plain sight, it blends in with the background cliff so well that it is all but impossible to spot without knowing where to look.

Can you spot the ruin? It is in plain sight near the middle of the photo.
Can you spot the ruin? It is in plain sight near the middle of the photo.  This was my first view of the site as I approached on foot following a sketchy path that ended at the foot of the cliff.
Honestly, the natives must have had their kids on tethers all the time to keep from losing them over the edge.
Honestly, the natives must have had their kids on tethers all the time to keep from losing them over the edge.

When I finally reached Pedestal Rock after several miles of off-roading  (yes, four-wheel-drive was absolutely necessary) and a hike on foot across the desert,  I still had to scramble 150 feet up a loose talus slope to get within 100 feet – and still 30 feet below the ledge – to photograph the stone ruin.  No way was I climbing any farther!

What a fantastic view those guys had from 200 feet above the valley!
What a fantastic view those guys had from their stone house 200 feet above the valley!

Nobody is going to bother Pedestal Rock ruin for a long time.  It’s a thousand years old now and will continue to last undisturbed until…  well, a major earthquake or something.

I spent the night at the end of the road near the cliffs.
I spent the night at the end of the road near the cliffs.

Seventeen-Room Ruin

This site was another well camouflaged structure.  I drove right up to it on a ranch access road and when I got out of my truck I still couldn’t see it.  It’s perfect blend with the huge alcove in which it sits also made it hard to photograph.

A gigantic alcove shelters the ruin on a semi-circular ledge that follows the contour of the formation.
A gigantic overhang shelters the ruin on a semi-circular ledge that follows the contour of the alcove.

Again, I was in for a challenging climb on a boulder-strewn slope.  Man, these guys knew how to pick their sites to ward off attackers!

This ruin commands a splendid view of the San Juan river valley. Yes, that's my pickup below.
This ruin commands a splendid view of the San Juan River valley. Yes, that’s my pickup below.

Many of these ruins were abandoned 700 years ago, but they date back to hundreds of years before that.  Just think, Columbus hadn’t even arrived yet in North America by the time these installations were vacated.  Historians say they moved southeast to more fertile locations, but I think it was because somebody had to carry water and firewood up that slope everyday and they just got tired of it.

17-Room Ruin view

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Set way back in the alcove, this structure will never be eroded by rain and snow.

False Kiva

My hike to False Kiva and back had me focused intently on my own survival.  The site is located in a high alcove overlooking the expansive views of Canyonlands National Park but it requires a sketchy climb across the face of a loose rocky slope on a rather obscure pathway where one wrong move can mean a disastrous tumble and certain death.  The drop to the Green River is over 2000 feet!

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The trail crosses the face of the loose slope with a sheer drop into the canyon below.

Long before I reached the ancient site, I was dizzy with vertigo.  Finally, the enormous alcove offered a secure place to rest…  and grab the photos for which I had just risked by life.  Wow!  What a view!

The setting sun had already dropped below the nearby cliff by the time I reached the old ruin.
The setting sun had already dropped below the nearby cliff by the time I reached the ancient ruin.

I still had to climb back out of here.  My original plan to stay for some night sky shots now seemed rather foolhardy and an invitation to trouble on the dangerous slope after dark.  A quick change of plans had me gulping Gatorade and trail mix and resting for a few minutes before initiating an immediate return to the canyon rim before darkness would set in.

Hovenweap National Monument

This place is actually on the map and gets a light flow of visitors even though it is a long way from anywhere.  It’s location near the Four Corners area makes it accessible on mostly nice paved roads, but it is still not really on the way to anywhere.  There is a rustic campground where I stayed the night.

Though you have to be a bit intentional about getting here, at least you will not be challenged by strenuous climbs.  The only real danger is that, just like every other ancient Anasazi installation, the buildings are perched on the edges of drop-offs.  Make the kids hold your hand.

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Some of these remarkable buildings are three and four stories high and really impressive.  The stonework is nothing short of amazing.

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Every building is contoured to the ledge that it sits on.  And apparently, the rock didn’t need to be level to be a desirable construction site.  It just had to be on a dangerous edge.  Amazing.

hovenweap-solitary-tower-2

Anyway, it was a relief for me to be able to wander around pretty much on the level and wonder about the way of life that the ancients experienced.  How deep must have been their fear of their adversaries to feel they had to protect themselves by building and  living their lives on the edge every day.

My visit to four ancient sites afforded only a brief glimpse of the historical installations.  There are hundreds of them, and I was amazed that most of them sit unprotected on their original ledges with nary a visit from anybody.  Hopefully, they stay that way, because they are a real treasure to all of us, not only to the native descendants.

I came away from all of my cliff dwelling adventures without a scratch, just some achy leg muscles from all the scrambling up and down steep rock-strewn slopes.  For that I am really thankful.

And I had fun.

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Read Episode #1: Bryce Canyon

Read Episode #2: Capitol Reef

Read episode #3: Monument Valley

Read Episode #4: Valley of the Gods

Thanks for reading!

The Color Red in Outdoor Photography

Milepost 5-22-16                  –At our apartment in Michigan

It is no secret to outdoor photographers that the color red is an eye-catcher, and they use it at just the right times (usually) to add pizzazz to their photos.  I don’t know what aesthetic operative comes into play when I see a nature photo with red in it, but it gets my attention anyway.  I have been using this natural phenomenon in my photos for a long time.

Bob promo at Denali 1461_2

When I rented kayaks for a recent paddle along the rugged shoreline of Michigan’s Thumb, I chose red kayaks.  The outfitter had yellow, blue, orange and green, but I knew what red would do in my photos of the event.  Yes, yellow or orange would probably have provided a similar effect, but red delivered the classic look I was hoping for.

Turnip Rock 0004

Sometimes, it’s not up to me to be intentional about using the color red.  Sometimes, I get lucky and it is already there.  Last weekend I was camping at Tawas Point State Park to test some new camping gear and when I hiked out to the historic lighthouse — Voila! — the lighthouse keeper’s dwelling had a red roof.  Cool.  That was easy.  Somebody on the lighthouse restoration committee apparently knew the secret too.

Tapas Point lighthouse fair skies

This knowledge has cost me a small fortune.  It didn’t cost any more money to rent a red kayak than a green one, but I have spent money on red shirts, jackets and sweaters to insert in my photos, and now, anticipating some upcoming road trips to the seacoast, I have bought a red convertible.  No joke.  I would not buy any other color than red, and I actually have been watching the online market for two years waiting for the right car and the right time.

Bob w '07 Mustang HDR

Two years ago, when we were hauling the RV up the Pacific Coast Highway from southern California to Alaska, we had to bypass the California redwoods because we were pressed for time and we couldn’t invest the necessary extra day that it would take to handle that winding narrow road through the tall trees.  At that moment we pledged to ourselves that we would return sometime later and approach it in the proper manner…  in a red convertible.

So, you will be seeing this car on the blog a lot in the coming days.

For our first major road trip with it, we have chosen to take on an adventure we missed last year while heading up the east coast from Florida in the spring.  We want to visit New England and pick up six states that we have never been to, bringing our tally from 43 states to 49.  Not only that, the trip will coincide with our 45th wedding anniversary.   We plan to be cruising the coast of Maine on our special day.

I can’t think of a more appropriate way to celebrate 45 years together than to cruise the seashore in a red convertible — with the top down, of course.

Maybe we will get back to the redwoods sometime –  and now we have the right car for it – but for this time it will be the other end of the country and a place we have never been before.

It’s the appropriately color-coordinated adventure of a lifetime!

Watch for the red sports car in subsequent posts.

DSC_0091

Unfortunately, not every photographic prop can be purchased in red.  Part of the new inventory of camping gear that I was testing last weekend is a new tent.  It’s yellow.  But a red light stick inside changes the color for photos.

And anyway, it is possible to get too much of a good thing, so yellow will be fine for my photos of my tent in future camping pics.  Any bright color will add visual punch to a photo.

Try it if you want to, and see what happens to your photos.

And have fun!

monument-valley-cowboy-ortn-2

Obsessive Repositioning Disorder (ORD)*

Milepost 3-12-16                                — in a vacation rental in the tropics

Most of the time it is simply called wanderlust.  It’s that compulsive condition that makes people restless when they’ve been in one place for too long.  Sometimes it is in the DNA and whole families are afflicted with it, and sometimes it is brought on suddenly by a single extraordinary experience, perhaps a childhood trip to Disneyworld or a memorable  weekend in a cottage on the seashore.

Somehow, somewhere, the infection gets under your skin and ends up flowing through your veins and you can’t sit still anymore.  You are compelled to move, even if it is just for a weekend road trip.

One last visit to the beach bar for one last Dominican pizza.
One last visit to the beach bar for one last Dominican fish fry.

Right now, we are getting ready to reposition, and the excitement is building every day.  We have been in the tropics for the winter and are flying back north a few days from now.  There are certain symptoms that accompany the onset of ORD for us:

  • Emptying the fridge and cupboards.  I am not sure how we developed this habit, but part of the excitement of moving on for us is eating leftovers and trying to finish stuff up right down to the last egg in the fridge and the last squeeze of toothpaste.  There is a certain check-it-off-the-list mentally that besets us when we are getting ready to move.  I guess we like to travel light.
  • Daydreaming.  That blank stare might mean I am reminiscing about that great campsite we had on the Pacific coast a couple of years ago, but if I am suffering from ORD, it’s more likely I am dreaming about what the next destination will be like…  or the journey from here to there.
  • Obsessive Googling.  We are both online checking the map of the next destination. “Hey, there is a bike path in our new neighborhood!”  “Oh, cool, we will be able to walk to the cafe down the block from our place!”  Before we even leave for our new location, we feel that we already know what’s there and what’s not.
  • One-Last-Time syndrome.  It may seem weird but we both take note of the last time we use something before moving.  The last time we charge the camera batteries, the last time we order pizza in this neighborhood, the last time we do the laundry, the last time we visit the grocery store, and so on.  I think it is part of the countdown for us.  Does that happen to you?
  • Planning ahead.  This is where we prepare for the trip and the new location. Maybe we buy jerky and crackers for the plane flight.  Perhaps we lay out our entire wardrobe for the trip and the arrival at the new place.  Will we need a jacket?  Where will we eat on the way?  Do we need a haircut before leaving?
  • Stocking up on arrival.  This is the counterpart to one-last-time syndrome.  It is the excitement of re-stocking the fridge upon arrival.  The first trip to the grocery store.  The search for the nearest farm market.  Which restaurant will we start with?

Since we are heading “home” to Michigan next, we have the added anticipation of seeing the grandkids for the first time in a couple of months.  That is a biggie for old folks like us.

Plus, there is an epic change in store for us with this move since we are planning to “park it” for a while and actually move into an apartment near our kids for at least a year, and maybe a lot longer.  We are going to get everything out of storage and rediscover the archives.   We are even planning to stay there through the next winter.  It will have been five years since that has happened.  We are still planning to travel, but we will have a home base again.  We still want to do the New England coast during fall color change… in a red convertible.  And there is my Southwest Photo Safari coming up this fall in the canyon lands of Utah.  And we haven’t ruled out an Art Tour of Italy later on.

So, when the ORD kicks in again, we are not sure what will happen.  Probably shorter trips and less distance from home.  I am sure that we are not done traveling yet.  As long as we are physically able, we plan to keep scratching that itch.

How does Obsessive Repositioning Disorder affect you?  How did you contract the bug in the first place?   Do you have to fight it off because of work or financial constraints?  What do you do when it’s time to move?  Can you take a spontaneous road trip?

Sorry, I don’t think there is a cure for ORD.  You might die with it someday.  Too bad.

In the meantime, have fun!

(*There’s really no such thing as ORD  other than common wanderlust or the travel bug,  I made it up.  Except that it is also the airport code for O’Hare in Chicago., and that carries it’s own suggestive travel connotation.)