Restoration in San Jose and East Bay Blues

While the timing of this trip was to view the exhibition from the national museum of Afghanistan that is currently at the Asian American Art Museum in San Francisco, Alice had an outstanding obligation to San Jose State: do some simple restoration at the student health center's women healers mural. So we got up on Monday, joined by Kathy Glassley who lives in San Leandro and was the documentor of the mural as it was painted to spend the day in beautiful San Jose. It is still a beautiful city. Touch up was pretty minimal for something that has been in an institutional setting for almost 30 years. Kathy has agreed to go back in a month to seal it. I'm hoping that the newer paint will not cause problems on top of the old. Kathy assisted in cleaning some of the surface as there was dust and the occasional coffee spill.
We had a perfect lunch at La Victoria Taqueria, near the campus (I warned Jim not to eat on campus!) and headed back to San Leandro where Alice viewed Kathy's studio/craft/music room and talked about Kathy's antique jewelry collection. We had met up with Kathy's husband Ray, also known by Alice since community college and sds days, spending the evening most agreeably laughing about kids, families, work and the political situation, dining later at Vo's vietnamese restaurant on Parrott Ave. While not Tamarind Tree or Green Leaf, it does serve fresh food, including green papaya salad. There is a predominance of prawn dishes (Alice avoids arthropods), so there were things we didn't try on the menu. We expect to see Kathy on Wednesday, going to Golden Gate Park to see the new Academy of Sciences, the old one a place of fond childhood memories for both of us.

Mendocino twilight and a day at the beach

Few pictures in this missive today; we drove 101 south through the Avenue of the Giants, stopping for chai and a break in Garberville (isn't Garberville a town in Pynchon's Vineland by another name?). How can I get a residency in this town? It sure looks as affluent as one might assume given the dominant hemp related industry here. We decided there wasn't enough time to enjoy going down 1 to Mendocino (the town); so took the inland route and checked Trip Advisor for restaurants in Ukiah.

Driving through the California oak hills at twilight, we couldn't tell whether the oaks were affected by what we had heard about blight. Crusing with Silk Road music and Pearl Jam, we arrived in Ukiah around 6. We had read about Patrona in Trip Ad. [see the review we wrote] and got the last table available just by walking in. Isis of the table was surely with us. The food was carefully made and well presented, service appropriate and sensible. We had no wine due to driving, but they pride themselves on their locally stocked cellar. More than made up for a dismal lunch. We also checked in with Robin. Thousands marched in Seattle from Capitol Hill to Westlake Center (downtown shopping center) to protest the unfairness of Proposition 8 in California.

We arrived in San Leandro and checked in close to 11, buzzed on coffee, channel surfing and scanning google and al jazeera for news. It's very quiet at this inn, despite proximity to the airport and being in the middle of the Bay Area because the rooms are so effectively soundproofed. And Oakland airport is not super busy; so when it's not travel time, with the deck door open over the marina, the sound of birds and water is very relaxing.

We left for El Granada to visit friends Marguerite and Ray, whom Jim has known since childhood. Another childhood friend, Ron Federighi, had died earlier this year, while living and working in Thailand and in the absence of any family organized memorial (probably postponed due to complicated transportation issues), Jim and Ray spent time in their own grief visiting Ron's old house in Moss Beach and the marine reserve there. We were not the only ones in sunny nearly 80 degree weather who wanted to go to the beach on Sunday. The sign on highway 92 once we crossed the Hayward/San Mateo bridge indicated it would take 72 minutes to get to Half Moon Bay. It was slow going, but we have Air conditioning. Alice channeled her mom in thinking she was safe to come to California in November, could avoid the heat, as Eleanor had said when visiting us in December 1991 or 2 during that crazy blizzard that shut the city down and left kids stranded along hilly bus routes, "there's a reason I left Connecticut: the snow. I'm not coming back to Seattle again this time of year." Well, guess I'll have to fly or train it in the winter if I want to avoid the problematic Siskyous, because November is now off the list of acceptible months for visiting the golden state.

We walked along the absolutely packed beaches from Marguerite's and Ray's house to Sam's, a very popular fish place, advertising its food as from sustainable fisheries, but everything was flown in from far away: ahi, lobster, etc. Guess there's no more sustainable fishery in the fishing village of Princeton, site of our memorial lunch after a visit to Pescadero beach after my father died in 1982. All those stories are now shriveled in the sun and walked over by extreme surfers, picnic goers and the madness of crowds. But it was great to see Marguerite and Ray, admire Ray's growing car collection and discuss San Francisco eating options with Marguerite. We are trying to encourage Ray to join the Albuquerque Jim table at the 40th high school reunion. He is stubborn, but we have optimism in Marguerite's winks and smiles. The sunset, too, was stunning, although I'm sure the colors were improved by the smog everywhere.

On our way back to San Leandro, we had dinner with raconteurs and bon vivants Jim Chanteloup and the fabulous Cookie Wong, serious musicians. They took us to Divino (second night in a row for Italian, but it was real Italian [review also in Trip Advisor]) and we discussed friends, politics, the economy and family. Jim C is also a long time friend of Jim's, and Cookie, formerly of San Francisco, is now the toast of the peninsula: they put a band together to play for Bob and Nancy's wedding in Belmont in 1995?, and it was terrific.

Trip to the Land of Red Wood

Left home later than we wanted on Wednesday; Alice sick with a cold and slow. Dinner in Olympia with Robin who was full of a film by a former Evergreen student about ethnic status issues among Israelis: whether sephardic (lower) or ashkenazi (middle) or ashkenazi Israelis who aren’t religious (highest status). He found it fascscinating. Great to see him. He’s looking well.

On through the night to Eugene and stayed at our port in a storm, the New Oregon, across the street from U of O. Alice had stayed here in 1989 with Robin when the Volvo’s fuel system crashed. It was very comfortable and always is a first choice in travel along this corridor for convenience and cost. The Willamette is right outside, making the hotel quiet as well as convenient to the river walk past the university’s experimental and organic gardens.

Alice slept during the early part of our drive from Eugene south. In Grant's Pass, we missed Summer Jo's restaurant (seasonal title was a tipoff), but found good food in a downtown strip mall at Blondie's Bistro, a nicely done big space with Italian specialties, sandwiches, salads. This was lunch, but it looks like a good nighttime place. Drove from Grants Pass, OR along pretty autumn rivers with maple and oak? not sure, but getting into redwood country once in California, traveling along the Smith River.

Fog set in before Jedediah Smith Park, where big redwoods grow. We found out later that we could have taken an alternative route through some of the largest redwood groves, but still saw some big trees and hints of groves. In any event, a blanket of fog set in from the 101 junction above Crescent City, which lasted through to our destination at Requa.

We bought gas in Crescent City, pumped by a nice man, my age or older. Not a new machine for credit cards; most folks doing cash. I said it won’t take as much as a full tank; my husband worries we’ll run out, but not with Wiwaxia’s engine. He said, “he must drive a truck", and laughed. I said because it runs right through and he grinned yes. Stopped in the Safeway, hemming and hawing over a bottle of wine. Only WA wine was St. Michele; so got Cotes Du Rhone to eat with picnic supper from Provisions once in Requa. Jim's prejudice, based on Kenneth Rexroth and other 20th century reports, that Crescent City was hostile to outsiders, did not play out, although Zagat would find little of interest here. It is a very pretty location, and we found a large number of California Sea Lions in the harbor.

Arrived in fog at Requa Inn to a lovely room, and friendly host Dave. Used the downstairs tv with dvd to watch Dae Jang Geum after our supper.
11.14
Awoke early to shower and dawn in sw facing windows overlooking the last bend in the Klamath River. The town of Klamath is Yurok land, Yuroks speaking an Algonquin-based language, unique among California Indians according to one book. The literature around the parks and from rangers indicated that Yuroks are active in seeking to remove four hydro dams from the upper Klamath. Toxins have accumulated at dangerously high levels. It's hard to tell whether it’s toxins or diverting water or both causing demise of salmon fishery in Klamath. People know about it here.

We drove toward the mouth of the river, up from our inn to a cliff lookout. There was a ranger with two volunteer naturalists set up to watch for whales, complete with interpretive kits and spyglasses. No whales, but plenty of pelicans, cormorants, a merlin and a log being pulled out to sea at a brisk pace, showing the power of local currents and riptides. We spent about an hour there and learned some lore. A splendid day, great for us all to be outside in the sun (even Alice, though I did have my hat!) after the weeks and weeks of rain. Some poems:

Pelican glides over sea.
After three weeks’ rain,
Klamath’s poison’s diluted.

Sun shafts on red trees through ferns,
nurse log wicks water,
titrates scarce salmon carcass.

Planets peek through fog sunset;
mushroom swells in rain.
Dawn announces Klamath’s mouth.

On the advice of the ranger, we took an old coast route on the south of the Klamath mouth. The washed out bridge has two mossy bear sculptures left with a placque about the destruction of the Yurok village by the flooding (log damage). Some of the road is paved, other is well graded gravel. We stopped to enjoy the sun, Alice somewhat limited with the cold.

Here's a photo of sunset at a beach south of Crescent City, Jim sitting on a picnic table, the tide going out to a minus.

On Friday afternoon, in Redwood National Park and Prairie Creek Redwoods state park. Saw a lot of Roosevelt elk, good bookstore at Prairie Creek visitors center, knowledgeable ranger at Kuchel visitor's center in the Nat'l Park. That center is at a very broad and beautiful beach, at the confluence of the storied Redwood Creek.

After surprisingly good Mexican lunch at Hacienda in Orick, got rejuvenation and wonder at Lady Bird Johnson grove, an area of ancient redwood forest which also was one of the longest walks Alice has been able to take in some time. We hadn't been here in 20 years, but it seems unchanged. The afternoon light shafted through the trees, leaving magical-looking places of light in the forest.

The warm, clear sunny weather continued on this usually overcast coast through to the weekend, and after leaving our very pleasant room at the Requa Inn, closing that day for the season, we drove south to Eureka. This is along a very beautiful part of the redwood coast with enormous lagoons and beautiful views of the ocean. Headed to Jim's great-grandparents' house, where he had often visited as a child. His grandmother Grace was born there in 1907, and Jim's mother lived there for several years up to the age of twelve. The house has had an addition, the barn was fixed and altered, but the house was well taken care of, and we got some pictures. Also saw a number of demonstrators leaving a rally about Proposition 8, the initiative that banned gay marriage. We should have taken Alice's advice and found lunch in Arcata--bad pub food at Lost Coast Brewery in Eureka should be avoided (there be hippogryphs). Made some reclamation or restitution at Eureka Natural Foods Store (not the coop), which also had very good coffee, and headed south.

Nahcotta and the Confluence Project

Jim and I spent a few days at the end of the summer on the Long Beach penninsula. Our cat Little Jane was declining, and leaving her with our veterinarian was a welcome break for Alice, who was spending time in feline intensive care. We enjoyed our stay at the Moby Dick Hotel, where we enjoyed some absolutely delicious meals, prepared fresh from the garden and with devotion. Here's a sunrise view through the window screen from our room, overlooking the yoga/meeting yurt. Sadly, there were no oysters, the beds having strangely and coincidentally reduced in spawn since spraying for spartina began in Willapa Bay. Our host, Fritzi Cohen, is working to eliminate this spraying. We are especially confused because our work at the Aquarium has led us to believe that characterizing the invasiveness of spartina in Washington state is overrated.
We were also fortunate to have beautiful weather for our trip to part of the Confluence Project by Maya Lin. I did some rubbing of some of the concrete etched text, a prayer by the Salish.

New Mexico update

So glad we didn't have to do this, yet someone else did. Our local travel bookstore has featured this on their site about "nuclear tourism." We haven't read it, but definitely want to know about the phenomenon.

http://www.wideworldtravels.com/NASApp/store/Product?s=showproduct&isbn=9781596913783

Vista House, mistaken identity and the road home

dateline: Seattle
We awoke in Hood River to a beautifully sunny and sparkling morning, our room this time overlooking the Columbia River. Moving slowly, we planned our route home for the day, contemplating some peeps at the Columbia Gorge waterfalls and spectacular views. Originally, we had hoped this part of the trip would include visits to acquaintances in eastern Washington, but, as academics, they were busy with beginning of the quarter activities. Our alternative was to visit a part of the northwest we had never seen.

Windsurfing, winetasting and tourism notwithstanding, the Gorge is a beautiful place which for the past ninety years at least has attracted visitors both internationally and locally. Many folks in Portland recreate at the Gorge for weekend camping, hotel stays, retreats or even choosing suburban life. [at left, view from Vista House] We saw, in addition to vineyards, other evidence of truck farming and market gardening, presumably supplying the groceries and farmers' markets of Portland and Vancouver WA.

Multnomah Falls [right] where we enjoyed a
tasty lunch of sandwiches at Multnomah Falls Lodge built in 1925 is part of the glaciated gorge area where, toward the end of a recent ice age, the Columbia River dramatically cut through the basalt, but the smaller streams drop into the river from high perches in the rocks. After lunch, we headed back to the parking lot where a man mistook Jim for his back home "buddy," Bob Somebody; this visitor was later seen again at Vista House. From here, we passed several other waterfalls full of early spring runoff. The road above the gorge was carved out nearly a hundred years ago for the benefit of daytripping Portlanders.

Vista House
This is the famous viewpoint high above the gorge which is seen in many photos. It's a charming place, beautifully designed and over 90 years old, and has been restored. [Check out the link:
http://www.vistahouse.com/ ]
I saw the Illinoisian again who mistook me for his hometown bud, but given my shock at this and typical reticence, did not try to kindle up a new pal--I felt like Oscar Levant being accosted in an elevator. I'm used to thinking of rural folks in Illinois as ethnic German, but this reminded me that in parts of IL near the Mississippi, across from Missouri, culture is very much southern. After nearly 20 years living in the Northwest, seeing the gorge was much overdue! [below right is Vista House itself from the Women's Forum Overlook]

Alice finally prepared some mailings to post. Usually, one of the alternative tourist activities she enjoys is to go to the post office, whether to mail post cards, complete some art business, or mail packages home or to friends. Completing the packaging at the hotel in the morning, she was on the hunt for a colorful, scenic post office along the Columbia; finally she went default with Wiwaxia's navigation system for both fuel and post office. Late in the day, we ran into traffic in Troutdale, where the post office had a long line on Thursday afternoon. [Left, Latourelle Falls, filled with lichen and moss]

Ending as we had begun, we had dinner with Robin, whose adventures in Prescott (pronounced: press-cut) included pick up trucks, hiking and the purchase of a duster--he'd been looking for something like this for more than a year. It was his first close encounter with cowboy culture.
Robin ran afoul of the Phoenix airport security and missed his plane to Seattle. The resulting rescheduling involved a flight to Oakland, which was delayed. Then, when he missed the connection to Seattle after being directed to the wrong gate, we contacted his Uncle John who picked Robin up, entertained him to a big Mexican dinner and roused him at 5am (!!) to get him to the next connecting flight to Seattle. Robin was able to get back to Olympia in time for a college friend's birthday party.

We arrived home close to midnight. Little Jane was very anxious and very skinny, but seemed relieved to see us. Her appetite is picking up. Serif was slow but pleased to see us. It was good to come home to a clean, "ordnung'' house.

We would like to thank the following people for making our journey possible:
Our gracious hosts, Lara Candland and Christian Asplund, Sarah Teofanov and Tory Larsen, Moria and Steve Peters; all the hotel staff who secured our reservations, adjusted discrepancies and cleaned our rooms and linen; the staff at the wonderful restaurants, including the thoughtful procurement by chefs, prep and clean up workers, and the servers, especially those with interesting and amusing attitudes; national park staff; our guide in Monument Valley; and our housesitters, Tom and Jamie. Most of the photos in our blog were taken on an iPhone; others were taken in high resolution on a Sony Mavica, then formatted in Photoshop for the web. Some were provided by our friends. Finally, we owe thanks to the makers, who work and reside in Japan, of our car, Wiwaxia, which ran beautifully and generally averaged above 40 mpg, cruising at approximately 500 mi per tankful. We will post our music playlist in the comments sections over the next few days.

Escalante, renegades and back to the northwest in Boise

dateline: Hood River
Leaving the Grand Canyon, we faced our longest day's drive, which took us in and out of Arizona and Utah, all the way to Provo. We took highway 89 and drove to Cameron, stopping for one last look at the canyon. [Photo to the left is of the storm we saw on Sunday.] In Cameron, we stopped at a supermarket and saw a truck with a very calm and cute poolie type dog sitting in the passenger seat. In sparkle contact paper was stuck above the door, "Moses." On the driver's side, the same paper revealed, "Red." Passing through more Navajo country, we took the low road twice to avoid mountainous roads and recent snows. This meant bypassing the northern part of the Kaibab Natl Forest, where the squirrels are, and also skipping a drive through Zion National Park. However, we saw a lot of beautiful country, with many striking rock formations, and had a good look at what is left of Glen Canyon after the dam was built. Apparently, parts of that storied canyon are reappearing due to the protracted drought in the southwest. What we saw was as unique in its way as the Grand Canyon.

Stopping in Page (AZ) for freshly made sandwiches and coffee at Bean's Gourmet Coffee House on Navajo Drive in a shopping center, we met the proprietor, a nice AA lady, then proceeded along the Arizona-Utah border. [Right, see a view near Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument.] This route not only took us through the Kaibab Paiute Indian Reservation, back and forth across the state lines, but also through communities where polygamy is still practiced by renegade "Mormons". This practice seems far from the early welfare state vision of community from the early settlers, but more of a personal cult practice which sexually abuses and economically exploits teenage women. Lara told us to look for compounds and buildings which were in a state of incompletion (to avoid paying taxes), and Christian identified border towns such as Fredonia as places where these practices persist. (The Marx brothers would find this name ironic.) Prairie Dog Pottery in Fredonia bore the sign, "not made in China." Hurricane bills itself as "a gateway to the parks," but La Verkin takes the cake: a sign self described, " voted out of UN 2001, voted out of US 2006." Other signs in town complained about paying taxes; but there were a few properties which looked very prosperous, in a contractor's dream kind of way. Most of the town was rather modest.

At last, fueled by more sauropod gas in Kanab, which serves travelers both to Zion and the Grand Canyon with sporting goods, natural foods stores and espresso, we reached the interstate, and as night came on, drove quickly through a good part of Utah to Provo. We passed the town of Fillmore, in Millard County, where in the early 1850's, the territorial capital was established, and part of a proposed large Moorish building was put up as a statehouse. US president Millard Fillmore had been an early supporter for Utah (Deseret) statehood, but his failure to win a second term halted that effort. Nevertheless, he is remembered fondly in Utah. --Guess the legislative chamber was the first "Fillmore Auditorium!"
Next morning, we met up with Christian for breakfast at our hotel and chatted for a couple of hours, dropping him off at the university pool midday swim, therapeutic for his back. It had snowed in Utah on Sunday, just as it had in the canyon, but much more heavily. It was cold, and the snow put a stop to spring (and the pollen). Then, coffee at the Provo Juice and Java [to the left], and headed north past the Great Salt Lake. We stopped to get sandwiches in Salt Lake City, and ate them at a rest stop near Ogden. Jim felt tired all day, so Alice drove most of the time across Idaho, along the Snake River. [Here's a shot of some device used to assist planes for navigation, similar to the one on Sarah's and Tory's mesa.] We headed directly for dinner at Cafe de Paris in downtown Boise, one of several places recommended by Lara's sister, and definitely gave satisfaction, with food carefully and deliciously prepared. Especially interesting was the vegetable accompaniment to our dinner, a mixture of beets and mushrooms--very tasty and creative. We enjoyed breakfast at another recommended place, Goldie's, which was the kind of cafe we had hoped to find all over the southwest, but didn't until this point. Here, we had REAL Idaho red potatoes, creamy and delicious, not the frozen stuff we had encountered 8 years ago in Pocatello. We knew we were back in the northwest!

Here's a relief sculpture in downtown Boise, depicting the Snake River. It's not possible to see, but there is neon at night within the riparian zone. Driving from Boise, we ran into some major construction between Boise and Nampa. This area is growing, one of three areas in Idaho growing (the other two are Twin Falls and Coeur d'Alene). We didn't run into any politicians, neither Larry Craig nor his [Democratic? Green?] replacement. We continued to Baker City where we found Charley's ice cream shoppe which served Blue Bunny ice cream!! Its merits are that it doesn't have those wood fiber additives: it's not so eggy and has fruit in it. Alice liked it, even if it's not organic. We took a short (10 miles loop) detour to the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. It was really quite well done and had a terrific chronology. Alice had been reading a history of early US banking issues, especially surrounding the relationship between counterfeiting and capitalism. The date, 1837, a time of financial depression, marked the beginning of the move west as many folks were destitute. This date was highlighted in both the book and the Center's chronology. Here's a picture of the life sized wagon models on a short trail from the parking lot.
Next: Columbia River gorge and home!

dateline: Provo

The Grand Canyon--what a sublime place, and I mean this in the Kant/Schopenhauer/Lyotard traditions. [check out sublime in the Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sublime_%28philosophy%29#German_Philosophy] Of course many of these places to experience the sublime are also at high altitudes and the lack of oxygen may contribute to the feeling of fear and overwhelming presence of nature (fortunately the nature part is very grounding). Alice felt that oxygen stations should be available as a park amenity, or at least in the bars. As any of you who have been at the rim of the Grand Canyon know, this experience cannot be captured in pictures. It is also an amazing eco system, with wide variations between the high rim and the bottom of the canyon, where 90 degree temperatures occur in March, and scorpions and rattlesnakes abound.


We were very fortunate on Sunday (March 30) to experience the atmospheric display of the canyon's weather system. As we left our hotel and picked up espresso at the multipurpose cafe/bookstore/viewflights shop, the agent told us all scenic flights were cancelled that afternoon, as the Park Service regularly does on windy days. We had lunch at El Tovar (see below) and decided to try a brief nature walk from Yavapai point where the park geology staff long ago decided that was the most revealing view. When we arrived, smallish snowflakes were fluttering past our hats as we walked to the glassed in observation station. There we learned from a ranger with a telescope that the walk was cancelled due to the weather: precipitation was beginning to fall in the canyon. We soon saw this was an understatement.


The rangers said there was no warning about this particular weather phenomenon, but at the same time, such storms do take place spontaneously. Jim took a photo as best he could of the remaining sunlight canyon, and then the snow flurries came along with the wind. This station is very solidly made, but these were pretty strong winds, and the building responded with vibrations. There came a point where the canyon was barely visible for all the snow/blizzard surrounding us. It was beautiful. Not long afterward the sun came out, and while there were clouds and shafts of light around, you would not know it snowed except to look at the few flakey remnants on the ground.

Since the nature walk was canceled, we hoped the ranger would still provide some information about natural history or at least ecology, but we only heard some commentary on the weather and apologies. In Moab, fortunately, I had obtained A Naturalist's Guide to Canyon Country, which does not actually cover the Grand Canyon. However, it's a good introduction to the subject. and since there is no comparable work for GC, I recommend it. (The author now lives in Seattle, what can I say?) We decided to stay for the evening ranger talk at 7:30 which was to be about the human history in the park, having snacks at the Yavapai lodge (where you can get accomodations with little lead time). I will only comment that this food is not as good as what we used to get on the ferries and the value ratio is greater than the "fine dining options."

The evening ranger, Mike, imparted a good deal of information in his canned talk about how to behave in the park. As with the staff in the North Cascades, management is clearly having to cope with the stresses brought on by the 5 million yearly visitors. There were very large rv's and the campsites ($30 per night) required rigorous maintenance. Many visitor areas are only accessible via walking or the numerous every 15 minutes shuttles (natural gas powered, but not hybrid). As in many national parks, these are part of a park and ride system. At the west edge of this system, beginning this week, construction crews will widen the roads for these shuttles. They are currently closed to all traffic but small buses. (Here's a view from inside the bus, looking at the Grand Canyon engine [in canyon camouflage] which goes twice daily to Williams. You can stay in Williams and take the train north to the canyon for a three and a half hour visit.) We found the shuttle drivers, personable, informative and very patient. For example, a large family with 5 very young children needed to load one disabled child and two strollers, one of which was a twin stroller. The driver explained protocol to the (very strong) young father, lowering the lift on the bus for the girl's walker, and cleared the front area of abled folks to make way for the family. The family itself was impressive in that the parents had clearly collected the kids and were returning to their campsite before kid exhaustion had set it (they were all very well behaved and the eldest, probably not more than 11, helped with everything).

The evening ranger told us briefly about the local original inhabitants of the area and their ideas, especially the Hopi about the origins of the people being in the canyon but that they should only use it for ceremony. I like to think that our pilgrimages and contemplations of the sublime are related to this concept, if interpreted by our commercialized culture.

A little backtracking about accomodations and history. We breezed in after our experience of Monument Valley and arrived, breathlessly, at our hotel in Tusayen. We weren't too disappointed we were unable to book a room within the park when we later learned that reservations can often be unavailable as far as 23 months in advance. (It's even more difficult to book than the Ross Lake Resort!) The dinner was ok, but like most places in the southwest, the most reliably prepared meal was... steak and potatoes. Salads were ok and the vegetables, simply prepared were fresh. I think it worth mentioning that most of the meals we had in the area were relatively low on salt, which I found helpful not only personally but as a healthy general approach to high altitude dining. For some real venting about food at the Grand Canyon, check out Trip Advisor. We didn't need to write. [Needless to say, we expected it to be as disappointing as the usual restaurant fare which can get away with business close to amazing scenery.]

On Saturday, we briefly visited the Lookout and Kolb studios (Lookout was closed). The Kolb brothers were photographers who built a beautiful studio with a downstairs gallery. Classes are also offered there as is displayed a collection of works (all strangely enough landscape paintings) by artists in residence to the park. [Here's a dome car on the GC train, right.]

We enjoyed a good dinner at the El Tovar lodge, which Ranger Mike informed us was inspired by a "Norwegian hunting lodge," complete with mooseheads, despite the moose being nowhere near the park. During dinner, we mused on the omnipresence of the kokopelli image, how its commercialisation obscures its meaning. The ethnobotanist Gary Nabhan had in the 1980's enthusiastically suggested it as a symbol of the trickster nature of wildness in native seed strains, then reversed and almost apologetically noted this hic et ubique infection of necklaces, t shsirts, etc. For us, anthropology has been a way for those of us reared in the Western tradition to understand, even if not very well, other cultures. For others, photography is this "in," even if imperialist in its "male gaze," often because people don't have any other way of understanding. Jim also noted that Gustav Mahler was alive when the El Tovar was built.

Jim: Kaibabs and Albuquerque Jim do not feel the effects of altitude at this level; they generally cavort on the North Rim, where the elevation is significantly higher. Mahler aside, how does one explain the absence of moose in the Grand Canyon NP? It seems obvious to me they were chased out by hordes of fierce kaibabs long ago, even before the advent of modern anabolic steroid supplements. Kaibabs are also most likely responsible for the failure of the Spanish Conquistadores to subdue this area, and present a plausible reason to explain the mysterious movements of the old Pueblo people (Anasazi) at various times. However, Jim did sleep late most mornings, since he was on vacation hassling people.

Aside from communing with the native squirrel population, Albuquerque Jim exercised forbearance at the park. Many boorish and disrespectful people escaped harm or humiliation due to his distraction with the strength and power of this unique land, which affected him deeply and led to a mood of tolerance and affection toward his fellow humans. Those who safely visited this area recently should ponder this, and feel gratitude.

The coffee there was good: strong, and better than the espresso in Tusayan. We were not able to sample the elusive cream of polenta soup, but did enjoy cream of asparagus and onion soups. The duck dinner was also delicious and perfectly cooked. Salads in this area, as in others, seem to sport cheese spontaneously.

We saw the Saturday March 29 headline issue of the Arizona Daily Sun, from Flagstaff, in a newsstand when getting espresso: “Uranium’s toxic legacy looms large.” Looks like Dick Cheney’s Energy Task Force is on the move again, taking advantage of political distractions and folks’ dissatisfactions at the pump. The above the fold photo features Lawrence Stevens, of the Grand Canyon Wildlands Council, speaking at Flagstaff City Hall. Next to him is Kris Hefton, ceo of VANE Minerals, US, LLC. The uranium mining industry is proposing opening new mines in the Kaibab National Forest south of the Grand Canyon. Tusayan, a couple of miles south of the GCPark entrance, where we are staying, is in this area. In addition, five companies want to mine uranium reserves, estimated at 500 million pounds or more, and Texas based Uranium Resources Inc. wants to reopen a mill. A geologist formerly with USGS and International Atomic Enegry Agency, Karen Wenrich, says, “The industry has come a long way...This is nothing like the mines on the Navajo Nation.” As you may know, mines were left to contaminate when the mining companies went bankrupt. Navajo people have sustained this mess with more than 1000 abandoned mines and mills on their land, poisoning local people. [Don't know whether the Navajo Nation qualifies as a superfund site.] There were 200 folks at the council meeting and most were opposed to the mining. Three environmental groups have sued to overturn Forest Service approval. The Navajos are, not surprisingly, skeptical at best. “It is unconscionable that anyone would allow uranium mining to be restarted anywhere while we are still suffering,” Navajo Nation President Joe Shirley Jr. said. “I cannot believe the industry is going to come in and mine uranium and then clean up. I cannot believe that.” Here’s a link for more information http://azdailysun.com/articles/2008/03/29/news/20080329_front_page_5.txt There is also information from an article reprinted in the Sun from the Washington Post about the Navajo land issues around uranium mining. We will keep our eyes on this one.

Monument Valley and dinosaur tracks

dateline: Grand Canyon
After lunch in Farmington on Wednesday, we set off for Monument Valley, driving down the long way from the north on Highway 163. We drove west through Navajo lands, passing the San Juan River and "Shiprock," so called by 19th (?) century missionaries. I wondered about this nomination because how many desert folks ever see a ship. It really looks like a magical floating fortress, especially in the heat of the day with the mirage in air, sort of like Laputa in Miyazaki's film of the same name (aka in English, Castle in the Sky). More below about this place.

From "Shiprock," which is also a town, we continued along 64 W to Teec Nos Pos. We passed Beclabito Dome of red rock and a stunning panoramic view of mountains and desert with little vegetation visible. Is this where uranium mining happened? It looked like the desolation of Smaug (ref the Hobbit). We stopped briefly in Redmesa and found orange sherbet pushups made in Louisiana by "Blue Bunny" company. More dairy than most sherbets and certainly than sorbet, but very refreshing. At the stop was a letter posted and dated March 12 from the Regional Health center (a large beautiful new complex which we saw just before coming to the stop and which seems to serve the four corners area) warning about an outbreak of meningitis. Redmesa environment reveals red earth both pale and deep with terra vert plants, both pale and deep also

As the afternoon shadows lengthened, we came by Mexican Hat, a famous rock formation, and on down to the increasingly stunning views of this storied valley. Driving into the main part of the valley, which is a Navajo tribal park, at about 5pm, we thought we'd have to come back the next day. However, the Navajo tour guide service offered us a 2-hour sunset tour of the valley, and we gladly accepted. They were very quick on the uptake, and joked with us about a plant in our car which Sarah had given us, asking if we were going to smoke it. Their somewhat grizzled humor reminded us of our experience with crab salesmen in La Push, driving around town selling freshly cooked crab from the back of a pickup, and raucously telling us to eat it with "Indian sauce" i.e., butter. Beer was in evidence there, but signs all over the Navajo reservation indicated that by federal law, alcohol was forbidden, including restaurants.

We set off in a jeep Wrangler with our guide Tito, who was very knowledgeable about the Navajo coming from northerly Athabascan peoples, had visited British Columbia for a conference, and knew much about Salish and other tribes. He provided a perspective beyond the "missionary names" given to many of the formations in the valley, as he expertly maneuvered the little jeep through washes, joking about a place where someone had gotten stuck yesterday while going right through it. Alice was so grateful Tito drove because he went carefully and slowly, avoiding the jerking movements which propel motion sickenss. He told us about the Navajo names and stories in the valley, which is a sacred place for his people. With him, we were able to travel well beyond the posted limits for visitors, and we saw many beautiful and imposing places as the sun set. Tito is a first Gulf War veteran, and he provided a very different viewpoint about current events, telling us that Navajo believe the gods have given up on us, and are awaiting a next renewal of the world. He described Navajo as liking to live far apart from one another, in contrast to the ancient Pueblos of places like Chaco and modern people living in cities, where too close proximity led to many troubles. He connected this to the Navajo's long ago decision to leave the more temperate northwest and live in the more arid and less hospitable southwest. He joked that "somebody had to leave". He pointed out a large hotel being built right in the valley by middle eastern interests, expressing a good deal of cynicism and disapproval. He also pointed out a place where years ago a B-52 had crashed, filling the valley with feds and leading to a change in flight routes in that area. He seemed doubtful about the reality of native sovreignity when the US military could overrun their home, or when the elders, who are women, agreed to the hotel development. Tito told us that the most frequent visitors these days are Europeans, and other folks from around the world, but not so many US visitors. We ran into Germans from Hamburg during this tour, visitors from Asia, and heard a good bit of French spoken at Gouldings.

NB: Tito also told us the story of the "Shiprock," which was actually a leftover place from previous world destructions by the gods. A giant dragon was devouring everything and an eagle (or a person on an eagle) was able to maneuver onto the dragon's back and attack a vulnerable spot (sounds similar to the Korean film Dragon Wars, eh?).

After an excellent dinner (we ordered steak) including fry bread at Gouldings, a hotel and restaurant next to the valley operated by the Navajo, we stayed overnight in Kayenta, coming back in the morning for a second look. There, Alice found a pretty silver and stones bracelet made by a Zuni jeweler, and we bought a pot made by a local Navajo artist. The women who worked in the shop were not very busy at this time and were patient with our questions and decision making.

After lunch, again at Gouldings and seeing some of those highly embellished elder women with their embroidered clothing and squash blossom jewels, we took the road south and west through Tuba City, through the very northern part of the Hopi reservation. We stopped at a place where an Indian man showed us a number of T. Rex and hadrosaur footprints which had been discovered in the 1940's. A lot of them had been removed to museums, but enough remained to show tracks as well as an example of a very sharp toenail. Our friend Barbara had told us about this place, so we kept a sharp lookout as we approached Highway 89. The signs now are freshly painted. From there, we turned more directly west and began to see evidence of canyons carved by the Colorado River. Stopping for our first real view of the magnificent Grand Canyon at Grandview, we encountered a French-speaking tourist who for some reason was interested in photographing our Wiwaxia license plate; we have still to encounter anyone who identifies the obscure reference of that name. Seeing the canyon during the sunset shadows was truly magnificent--I (Jim) was blown away by the sheer size and extent of the formations.

The Farm, Chaco Canyon and farewell to New Mexico

dateline: Grand Canyon
Some of this is out of chronological order because we were busy living instead of writing, and the photos took a very long time to download from the camera. [Some photos are taken from my iPhone and others, the ones which took so long, are from our Sony digital camera.] We also want to thank everyone who's visiting the site and commenting or emailing us with comments. It's fun to have the connection to home.

Kaibabs not withstanding, here is the only jackalope we have seen on the trip. I guess they've moved to South America. It was situated on the corner of a large furniture and decorative arts shopping area in Santa Fe, not far from our hotel. Postcards have also been scarce (in Farmington, only Walmart carried them; sadly we didn't visit there). After another delicious breakfast at Chocolate Maven, whose staff also packed sandwiches for our supper, we left Santa Fe in caravan with Moria, Crystal and Wink to El Guique. On the way we drove through San Juan Pueblo, native land, and a very pretty town in the river washes. That afternoon Steve conveniently was working at the Seeds of Change farm and Moria showed us around. It is the most well organized and beautiful farm I have ever seen. There are no livestock, but the fruit trees were well maintained, the irrigation system organized [right], fields plowed, the greenhouses tidy and the offices/ seed area [above right] professionally managed. The farm is an old one in the Rio Grande valley and has terrific water rights. Still, it is arid farming in the high desert, and the nights are still too cold for seedlings to be outside yet. Alice found Santa Fe to be challenging because of the elevation and the hotel room stimulated allergies. So, with sunblock, hats, medicine, plenty of clothing coverage and staying in the car, caution prevailed and all was well. Moria also showed us some petroglyphs up the road from the farm, probably from Pueblo people. As in Chaco, spiral patterns were frequent. Do spirals mean water is here?

Saying goodbye with promises to converge on San Mateo in a year, we drove north to Abiquiu and turned toward Farmington at the dam (earlier picture). This, too, was beautiful juniper/pinyon forest land and we drove by the road to Chaco Canyon where we had visited on Sunday, March 23 with Sarah and Tory. We felt we had a good experience of the beautiful landscape of northern New Mexico.

We arrived back at Farmington on Wednesday night, where Sarah and Tory graciously put us up for one last night--we had another good conversation, this time with the addition of their friend Simon, born in Albuquerque, and whose Chavez family has roots in New Mexico going back hundreds of years. He still manages their historic family farm south of Albuquerque, as well as working as an industrial safety educator.

So here are some impressions of Chaco Canyon taken by Jim. The first is a view of Pueblo Bonito, the largest of the complexes in this canyon. The second is the largest kiva with Sarah and Tory on the rim to give you an idea of the monumental scale of these buildings. Finally below left is Alice's favorite, Jim's shooting through the doorways at Pueblo Bonita. A midday day visit at this time of year without cloud cover is very sunny and reminded Alice of being at UC Irvine, where she never went outside between 10am and 2pm. We had been warned about possible cold temperatures, but there was nothing remotely like that this day.

Sarah and both Torys, younger and elder, were unfailingly good humored, humorous, thoughtful and very hospitable. Here is a charming photo of the Teofanov/Larsen duo standing before their front door, designed by Sarah [photo credit from T/L archive]. It meant a lot to reconnect with them, and we hope to see them in Seattle before long.

Seeds of Change, Mrs. Bobbs's garden and Albuquerque Jim

Dateline: Grand Canyon, Friday 3/28

Our Tuesday morning in Santa Fe dawned early, but as usual we did not, to have a delicious breakfast at Chocolate Maven, a bakery/restaurant we found using TripAdvisor. During the noon hour, we met Steve at his workplace, Seeds of Change [right], where he coordinates seed growers and works on product development. He seems in his element, and showed us around, with the high point being the darkened seed room, which contained a ton of potential energy. Steve continues his quest to help feed the world's people in a healthy, delicious and sustainable way.
We then met up with Moria, Cryssy and Wink in the downtown of Pueblo Santa Fe, for lunch at Pasqual's [left]. This satisfied our desire to experience southwestern food at its source, in a town that was established five hundred years ago.
We made up a fun party in a dining room festooned with Chagallesque murals in a very Santa Fe style, chiles and other items that hung from the ceiling. Nothing extravagant, but very playful, and the food was terrific--mole negra, red and green chiles, prepared expertly and very fresh: enchiladas with even vegetarian fillings! Wink took Steve back to work, and the rest of us proceeded to Moria's client's garden, where Moria is head gardener for a large and traditional Santa Fe house and grounds owned by the charming Mrs. Bobbs [Alice and Moria right].

We learned that the house, in the genuine adobe style, was built in 1939. Thick walls, beautiful wood for the windows, doors and ceilings of boards supported by logs. Very distinctively styled, with a Steinway grand piano and many unique books written in the southwest over the past hundred years or so: Mrs. Bobbs had owned a bookstore, and responded to our deep interest in these rare volumes. [The Garden library above]. Moria was apologetic about the garden, still some ways from spring opulence, but it was beautifully laid out and filled with clever hardscape, much of it created by local artists. Some flowers such as crocuses were already blooming, and we were glad to discover the garden model railway [above] and a very large labyrinth [left]. The staff will be placing the labyrinth's tiles out soon, stored over the winter to avoid freezing. A new shipment of roses had arrived, and the three gardeners were busy with pruning and preparations. Sensitive to the very large garden's history, Moria adds her own distinctive artistic vision and practical knowledge of garden planning and execution, including xeriscape. The large property, located in the old, nearly downtown part of Santa Fe cleverly has wells and two lots in the municipal accounts so that staff can water 6 days a week instead of only three. Santa Fe, of course, has water rationing. [Fractal spiral with labyrinth at right.]
Later, we experienced Santa Fe rush hour traffic, as we navigated around an unfamiliar city with the car's usually reliable nav system, collecting a quiche, vegetables and other things for our second dinner at Steve's and Moria's, en famille with Cryssy and Wink. We saw many beautiful images of Mrs. B's gardens at different times of the year, when the various plantings are at their peaks. Dinner was a collaborative effort, with trips outside to see the river, garden, and the improvised potting shed that will someday be a more established greenhouse.

While Moria was showing Alice slides of a recent trip to Costa Rica, others were up to no useful purpose in the dining room, with much laughter of the sort that kept getting to the next (lowest) level. Beginning with a wacky plot to ride down the road to experience the toughness of dive bars in New Mexico's largest city, while anticipating our 40th high school reuinion next year, we began to riff on the building of a new legend, Albuquerque Jim. The rhythm of this phrase led to song expressing the hair-raising fearfulness of this icon of power and mystery, and the tale got to be very tall indeed, tall enough for all of us to confront our classmates of long ago without fear of embarassment. [Crystal and Wink, above, anticipate the next ridiculous plot.]

Much about the sidekick bull kaibabs, steroid fortified, and tied up with the origin story in a mysterious way. Kaibabs are a subspecies of Abert's squirrel, found only on the north rim of the Grand Canyon, for whom the Kaibab National Forest is named. These are gracile creatures with white tufted tails, but in our lexicon they took on a menacing mien. We traced the evolution of Albuquerque Jim with glee, from an invertebrate to humanoid via the intercession of the great bull kaibab and his similarly huge and fearful fellows, who pulled Jim's stagecoach. The legend will likely grow, including the amazing appearance of the now-legendary secondary sex characteristics. Crystal wondered whether Paul Bunyan got his start this way. Late into the night, we could not stop laughing. [Steve, Moria and Cryssy admit it's hopeless.]

Jicarilla Apache lands, Chama Valley and a masterpiece

We left Sarah's and Tory's house on Monday after yet another delicious breakfast including eggs. We visited Sarah's studio and saw many series not seen before, paintings and beaded sculpture, most affectingly including a series about boats. She had done both a sun boat and a moon boat, but the latter was astounding. Clearly a masterpiece! Here's a picture of the fabulous Sarah Teofanov in her kitchen.
After filling our tank at the sign of the sauropod, we drove east through Jicarilla Apache reservation lands, stopping in briefly in Dulce (duls). It's beautiful country with junipers and this time of year, snow on the north sides of hills or outcroppings, very near the Colorado border. The earth there is deep purple--a gorgeous color with the depth of yellow ochre as compliment. Then we crossed the continental divide into the beautiful Chama Valley, site for recreation and horse ranches. Further along, we passed Ghost Ranch where OKeefe worked part of the year on paintings inspired by the surrounding landscape. Here's a picture of the land from Abiquiu Dam looking north east. We ate at the Abiquiu Inn--disappointing, but everyone said we ordered the wrong things. See comments on Trip advisor.

So we pulled into Santa Fe at dusk, checked into our hotel on Cerrillos, and headed to Moria and Steve's where we found we hadn't missed an Easter ham (Beeler's no less!) because old friends Crystal and Wink had just arrived before we did. Moria also served succulent parsnips from their garden, tossed with the most delicious kumquats which C & W brought from their tree in Pasadena. What a feast! Lots of laughing and good cheer. Daughter Natasha was there on break from Mills College in Oakland, California.
Moria and Steve live in a cohousing development which began about 10 years ago. One final home is still being built. The homes have an adobe style architecture and are located near a river wash. They were amazed that WIWAXIA's navigation could find their house #9 in the complex. Of course, we were amazed at the route through the wash (not the only one), but we cheated in a way, looking for California plates knowing Crys and Wink were there. (The secret's out!). Moria shared an amazing fact: the goats they keep there are descendents from Sam Karp's original Saanen herd, from the very farm, Tetridge Dairy, where Alice lived in 1976 and where Jim, visiting the farm on break from UCLA, confused a steer with a goat ("that's the biggest goat I've ever seen"). The owner had lived in Santa Cruz and obtained them after moving to Santa Fe. There are also chickens, dogs and cats. Here's Moria in her living room with some of her paintings on the wall above her. After showing off the video of Robin's graduation speech, Moria, Alice and Tasha watched Dae Jang Geum (also known as The Jewel in the Palace), the episode about the heroine going to Un Ang Temple (I never get sick of it, and it's a very persuasive buddhist story about the importance of cooking with devotion). [More to follow about Santa Fe in the next post.]
Side note about Tetridge Dairy: named after Sam and Janie's cat, Tet, the patriarch of the (was it nine or ten or more?) cat clan at the farm, Tetridge Dairy refers to the Tet offensive which you may recall was the Vietnamese Lunar New Year strategy to go all out against the US military in 1968. Robin wrote a paper about Ursula Le Guin's The Word for World is Forest as a response to the Tet offensive. Tet was a very tough and large tabby.

Hesperus, postcard snow and vehicle names

dateline: Farmington
So we realized not everyone knows that wiwaxia is the name of our car: it has a license plate with its name, and here is Jim posing with the clean car in Sarah's and Tory's driveway. You can see how warm it is here by Jim's modeling his shirt in the sun. The car is doing well, resting here as are we for Tory's been taking us on outings in his (company) truck, a comfortable ride. On Saturday, we went back to Hesperus, north of Farmington and enjoyed a delicious lunch at the Kennebec cafe & bakery (I put a review on Trip Advisor), then went to Durango, definitely a trendy place with Disneyland character in its narrow gauge railroad. The class divide which seems to accompany the border between Colorado and New Mexico in this area is quite noticeable, even at first glance. We picked up provisions: a very delicious free range chicken, vegetables for Korean cooking Saturday night dinner, and four bottles of rum. Not just any rum, either. Jim will explain below. Now, part of the significance of Hesperus is its relationship to our Volvo's license plate, Hespera, the car currently being driven by Robin. We chose the name among several referring to the Amazons' colonies. Hesperus is also the name of the evening star. You can see the landscape, as Jane Austen would say, is meaning to have spring again. Everywhere around here is just on the verge of bursting into leaf and bloom. We left Seattle past that stage (and no, I hadn't planted my peas yet). But four corners area (of which Hesperus and Farmington are part) is filled with fields which will grow (presumably short season) beans as the soil warms and nights don't overchill. On the way back from Durango, we drove through Aztec where is located some ruins of ancient Pueblo construction (we saw one of the unexcavated mounds from the road). The entire area including Mesa Verde and Chaco Canyon contains many ruins from an urban society active between 850 and perhaps as late as 1400 CE. Tory's employer maintains its offices in Aztec, and when he's not out in the field, Tory's at the office, about twelve miles from his house. His commute is about 20 minutes through a pretty residential area with cottonwoods and juniper dominating the mesas and the Animas River. Sarah and Tory have been the most generous hosts: asking for both our slide talks last night (Tory brought home a digital projector from work). Their eldest son, August, is away from home during our stay, but the younger son, also Tory, is here working on projects for his studies at the college. We saw his paintings last evening, and he has quite a painterly stroke, good sense of composition.

We have spoken with Robin, and he is flying tomorrow to Phoenix to visit Gregory Smart, longtime TOPS fellow student and church school pal who is studying at Prescott College in Arizona. We don't expect to connect up with him as it is unlikely they will go to the Grand Canyon and he will stay only until Friday; however, it is coincidental that we have friends in the southwest. It sure is another interesting coincidence that New Mexico governor Bill Richardson is in the news over his endorsement of Senator Obama. I like that he's got the beard now that he's not running for prez, making him look less fake.

Here are some photos Tory (the elder) took of the Pyrenees dog and the accompanying sheep which invaded their property recently. No shepherd available, and the sheep eating everything in sight. Forget any fencing by the Bureau of Land Management.

Jim: We found four bottles of Beachbum Berry-approved rum in Durango yesterday (Saturday), one a 151 proof Demarara from Guyana which is a famous "floater" and an essential flavoring for many genuine faux tropical drinks, and another golden rum. I dropped a bottle on several adjacent bottles of gin in one of the liquor stores--not the big Liquor World, but a smaller wine shop where we understand the proprietor is arrogant and has bad breath. Fortunately, nothing broke, but I did attract the attention of the owner's wife, who latterly kept a close eye on me. We hope to find one or two more rums in Santa Fe or Arizona, and return with a critical mass for my planned birthday Tiki party in May. This is not to mention some very fine dark Venezuelan rum of Tory's we were able to sample back at the ranch. Moab featured a western supper with a scheduled 7pm gunfight, but I felt that Durango had even more potential as a cowboy showplace, despite its superior airs.

Today, we rose (relatively) early and set out for Chaco Canyon, locale of the largest pre-Columbian edifices north of Mexico City. These have a very spiritual quality and purpose, and the various places are aligned according to solstices and also lunar cycles of substantial length. The largest, Pueblo Bonita, contains over 400 "apartments", of several stories, and is as huge as the Roman Coliseum. It is now thought that these were not dwellings, but rather gathering places, and the many petroglyphs, often spirals, as well as abstract figures, are fascinating. Numerous kivas exist now as below-ground spaces once covered, one of which I nearly fell into, to the chagrin of our hosts. We'll post some pictures soon--an incredible place, full of mystery.

Back in Farmington, we witnessed another beautiful New Mexican sunset, and after dinner, Tory got out the Celestron telescope. The moon rose late tonight, so stars were very bright and visible in the cloudless sky. We saw rings and moons of Saturn in clear detail, as well as the pleiades. I saw a shooting star across the field of the telescope, then another while gazing unassisted. We are having a great visit with Sarah and Tory, and will be off tomorrow for central New Mexico--Santa Fe and hopefully, Los Alamos, where nuclear mysteries will be revealed (or not).