Continental Drift: WE'VE BEEN EVERYWHERE, MAN

"I’VE BEEN EVERYWHERE, MAN"

JOHNNY CASH

I've been everywhere, man.

Crossed the desert's bare, man.

I've breathed the mountain air, man.

Of travel I've had my share, man.

I've been everywhere.

ZION NATIONAL PARK, UTAH

May 7: It did NOT snow at Bryce Canyon last night, despite very cold temps. We managed to get up and out fairly early and made the two-hour drive to Zion National Park, still in southwest Utah. The entrance road to the park takes you higher and higher, through different zones of vegetation, transitioning from high desert with little but creosote scrub through sparse juniper/pinyon spotted hills and finally to the incredible massifs of Zion. If Bryce was delicate lacework, Zion is Thor’s Hammer, nothing dainty about it. This is just BIG! Towering vertical sandstone cliffs, gigantic arches that would make McDonald’s blush, twisted, checkerboarded walls that simply take your breath away. All while you’re attempting to drive a narrow, winding mountain road against opposing traffic. Not fair. And overwhelming numbers of people. It seems that Europe and Japan are all on holiday. English is spoken by perhaps 20% of the people. Rental RVs are everywhere and most of the license plates are on California rental cars. We headed straight for the campground and were fortunate to get a nice spot in the South Campground near the Visitor Center. For the afternoon, we boarded the shuttle bus for the Zion Canyon trip. Unless you are staying at the Lodge, private vehicles are not permitted along this road. The shuttle is free and makes about eight stops along the canyon floor to allow visitors to get off and on as they wish. We opted for the Emerald Pools Trail, about a 3 mile round trip walk up the side of the canyon. The pools were formed by “curtain” waterfalls above each, where a sheet of water cascaded over the rock rim so gently that it dissipated into mist before hitting the ground. The bad news was that the trail was so crowded (it was a Saturday) with families and their VERY young children, loud screaming teenagers and other reckless hikers, that respectable people such as ourselves were not quite able to get full enjoyment from the place, despite out best efforts to do so. A cold rain started falling as we neared the end of our walk, so we did what made most sense - head for the Lodge, hot chocolate and some time with our cell phones. The rain never abated, so we finished by riding the shuttle all the way around the canyon and enjoying the dreary but most impressive scene.

May 8: Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers out there!

We decided that one night at Zion was enough, but wanted to enjoy one more good walk, so we took the Watchman Trail, so named for the towering white mountain it overlooks. The trail was fairly easy, following many switchbacks up and into a beautiful canyon. The sheer cliffs above rang with the descending liquid son of a canyon wren, while less well-trained rock wrens harshly criticized their cousins’ more eloquent repertoire. Magenta flowering prickly pear cacti graced trailside, along with a multitude of asters and many other flowers we couldn’t identify. Near the bottom, a bird we had been looking for finally appeared - cordilleran flycatcher. Just sat there, eye level, entirely pleased to be so admired and regaled.

SAND HOLLOW GOLF COURSE, HURRICANE, UTAH

On a whim, I called a golf course near St. George, Utah - Sand Hollow Golf Resort, to see if we could play there that afternoon. We could and did and what an amazing experience! The course was carved out of wild red-rocked sandstone desert. It was an stunning visual and golfing treat, one of the most fun golfing experiences we have ever had. And unlike Zion, nobody else was there, so we had the course to ourselves. Violet-green, cliff and northern rough-winged swallows were swooping all over the fairways, eating all the insects they could muster, while common ravens nimbly demonstrated their flying skills, doing barrel rolls and flips as they negotiated the desert air currents among those red rock hillsides.

To complete a perfect day, we drove west through the stupendous Virgin River Gorge and ended up, where else? Las Vegas, baby! A delightful Mother’s Day dinner at our casino hotel, followed by some heavy gambling. I invested $1 and after about 20 hands of video poker, walked away a winner, with $1.25 in my sweaty palm. I’m framing that quarter. I beat the casino in Vegas!

May 9: After such intense involvement in games of chance, we could only recuperate by sleeping in, enjoying our luxurious accommodations. We spent the rest of the day driving through the southern part of California’s Central Valley. Incredibly boring, unless you enjoy close observation of growing vegetables, pecans and almonds. There apparently has been an immense proliferation of almond growing, spurred on by recent massive consumption of almond “milk”. I confess to imbibing this stuff, but watching it grow makes eyeballing drying paint look like being trackside at the Kentucky Derby. Night at a Walmart parking lot in Visalia, CA. Can’t beat that with a stick!

May 10: Early start (despite all the attractions Walmart has to offer) to head up into the mountains and spend the day at Sequoia/King’s Canyon National Park. OK, so we’re just beginning our ascent, still outside the park, a long way from anywhere except a couple of tiny villages, when an icon flashes on the dashboard that looks like two heads riding a snowmobile. We instantly knew we were in deep doodoo, since we had no idea what potential disaster this symbol pre-ordained. Whipping out the Owner’s Manual, we figured out that the symbol meant our DEF was low. What the hell is DEF? Reading on, the manual carefully explained that we had either 1) 1000 miles to get this straightened out OR 2) in 16 starts, the engine would seize up, would never run again, the earth would implode and everything would fall into some sort of black hole. We stopped at a tiny service station that surprisingly did not serve Hostess Cupcakes or donuts, but not only had an owner who knew what DEF was (Diesel Exhaust Fluid), but was willing to sell us 3 gallons at only triple markup. Our manual advised that the DEF tank capacity was 3.2 gallons. We poured in 3 gallons and it was still sucking it down like a milkshake. Nonetheless, we motored along, the two guys on the snowmobile went elsewhere and we all lived happily ever after.

SEQUOIA NATIONAL PARK, "THE SISTERS"

Back to the story. We climbed and climbed and climbed through switchback after switchback. The views down to the raging river below, torrential from snowmelt, were stupendous. Most of the mountain scenery was heavily filtered by air pollution. Eventually, our ascent delivered us into the heart of the highest forest, composed of very large Douglas firs, massive ponderosa pines and THEN, the largest trees to grace the earth, giant sequoias. These trees are so huge they shake you from the ordinary world, leaving you standing there with your slack jaw, saying clever things like, “Holy shit!” Up to 30 feet in diameter, 200 feet tall, with upper branches that those pines and firs would love to have as their main trunks, sequoias enter into the realm of disbelief. But there they are. Wholly dependent on fire to open their cones, clear the ground for seedlings and to take out competing tree species, many of the gargantuan trunks were severely scarred by recent and ancient blazes, only adding to their mystique.

"SENTINEL", SEQUOIA NP

We continued on through the park, seeing a black bear run across the road in front of us, back down the northwest exit and returned to the dusty central valley toward Del Puerto Canyon, near Patterson, CA, our campground for the night. As we drove up through the canyon, leaving the agriculture behind, our only views were of the glowing yellow grasses of rolling, gently rumpled California hills. The very beautiful campground was virtually empty and we blissfully called it a night.

DEL PUERTO CANYON, CALIFORNIA

May 11: At 6:30 AM, we met my high school friend Joe Mikulsky and wife Annie, who live in not too far away Felton, CA, at the entrance to the canyon to chase birds all the way up to its highest reaches. I had last seen Joe at our 50th HS reunion, held last June in New York, but you know how that goes - you talk to a lot of people for about 5 minutes each. We had a wonderful time, on a warm, sunny day, winding our way back up the narrowing defile, looking at birds, flowers and a few inquiring cattle. Yellow-billed magpies, California’s only endemic bird species, taunted me while I gallantly, but unsuccessfully, tried to obtain a photograph. We watched a common raven catch and then eat a mouse. Eventually, we returned to the campground and the true spirit of wilderness, we all took naps. Late afternoon was spent wandering around the area, seeing Nuttall’s woodpecker and phainopeplas, which are black silky flycatchers with glowing ruby-red eyes and white wing patches. Enough birding, already! Barbecued steaks, a few cold ones and sitting around a campfire was the real treat of the day, as it gave us a chance to really catch up and all get to know each other.

CINNAMON TEAL

NUTTALL'S WOODPECKER

AMERICAN BITTERN

May 12: After some dawdling, we broke camp (meaning we disconnected out electrical cord and water hose) and parted ways. Our destination was Portland, OR, some 666 miles distant, but some zigzagging was in order. First we visited the San Joaquin River NWR and then, much later in the afternoon, the Sacramento NWR, which was quite spectacular. I had been there once before, but in winter, when hundreds of thousands of waterfowl crowd onto its ponds and flooded fields. Now it was much quieter, but the 6 mile drive through the refuge brought us next to many bullrush-lined lakes that are kept full throughout the stilting summer heat and play host to many species of breeding birds. A normally very secretive American bittern put on a show, followed by a brief glimpse of a flying least bittern. That completed our having seen every species of wading bird in North America on this trip! Exciting, huh? There were even a few lingering geese on the refuge, both snows and white-fronted, which was a “lifer” for Gale.

WALMART ROOM WITH A VIEW

We pushed on into the Cascade Mountains of northern California and southern Oregon and ended up pulling into, YES!, another Walmart parking lot in pitch darkness.

May 13: We awoke and looked out the rear window of the Albatross to see a beautiful flower-covered meadow with a mountain backdrop. Walmart? Are you kidding? Most RV parks couldn’t hold a candle to this view!

Onward to Portland, Oregon to visit my son, Matt, his wife, Alice and the two grandgirls, Bonnie and Eloise.

May 13-17: Visiting and fly-casting for rainbow trout.