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.