Crossing From California To?

Just a few notes about my trip across the US, on my way to visit St. Louis, my sons and a few friends at Christmas. But first, one fun memory from California:

While I was visiting my sister Karen, we went for a horseback ride. We used to ride fairly often up in Griffith Park when we were kids. It had been decades since we had gone riding together. So this was an unexpected treat.

part of the ranch grounds

Not far from her house is a road that switchbacks up the side of a mountain. A road that is visible from the freeway. It was just a point of curiosity until we found that it was the road we needed to use to reach the stables. The ranch where the stables were located was a good distance up the mountain. There were also more than just a stable up there. There were several nice sculptures scattered about the grounds, along with accommodations for group gatherings and lots of interesting buildings and antiques, etc.

buggy ride anyone?

sculpture

It was a group trail ride (three others besides us) but it was a fun and scenic ride. The young lady that led the group was quite knowledgeable about the area and the ranch. She told us about a cave on the property and that at one point the property was occupied by a man who was hiding from police. He and his family lived there undetected for several years, while the ranch was being fought over by several heirs after the previous owner passed away. He even raised his kids up there! The view from the top was great and a wonderful time was had by all.

Karen (on right) and me

I finally left Southern California two days after Thanksgiving, planning to drive as far south as possible without adding too many miles to the journey, hopefully avoiding the worst of the winter weather. Hah!

Things started out fine. A little on the cool side, but nothing major. I chose interstate 40 to cross California into Arizona. On my second day of travel, I left the interstate in order to drive a section of route 66. It turned out to be rather slow going as parts of the route are poorly maintained and only driven by people like me who grew up knowing the county before there were many interstate highways.

The road was cracked, bumpy and really only barely there. A lot of the bridges appeared dicey at best and were not rated for a lot of weight. The posted limits indicated that I could cross safely, but the appearance of some of the bridges said otherwise. Still, no mishaps and all was well.

I took a short detour to visit the Amboy Crater. This is an ancient volcano that hasn’t been active in a really long time (about 10,000 years). But the signs of its past activity are all over the desert floor. Old lava flows are visible for miles and miles. The volcanic rock is more common than sand in this area. The crater itself isn’t hard to reach, just a walk across the desert floor on a semi-marked trail of about a mile and you’re there. At the base anyway. The climb to the top is a little more difficult. It’s very steep and the trail is littered with loose rock that rolls easily under your feet. Going up isn’t too bad, coming down (particularly with a dog that likes to pull at his leash) is somewhat more hazardous. I lost a little skin on the palm of one hand before deciding that the dog didn’t really need to be on a leash right then. At least not until I was off the steepest areas!

inside the crater

Amboy Crater

The easiest access to the top of the volcano is on the backside (as seen from the parking area.) An explosion created a breach on that side of the cone. So the 250 foot tall cone is reduced to a mere 80 foot climb–pretty much straight up. Once at the top, there are trails leading all around the edge, as well as one leading inside. The crater itself is 1500 feet across and consists of coaxially nestled cinder cones formed during four different periods of volcanic activity.

crater breach

Once inside the crater, the bottom is flat and a bunch of people have placed rocks spelling out their names or initials. So much for “leave no trace”, but at least they used natural materials, just rearranged the rocks that were already there. A sign in the parking area suggested that it would be wise to only try climbing up to the crater in the fall and winter. Summers being rather brutal in this area. So my visit was perfectly timed. Well, almost perfect. Spring, when the wildflowers are in bloom, would have been more beautiful, but I wasn’t planning to wait around until then.

desert floor, volcanic rock

desert plant

It was a lovely and peaceful hike and a very interesting site.

After I left Amboy, I continued on to Arizona and spent the night somewhere outside of Kingman. I had planned to finish crossing Arizona the next day, but I got side-tracked by a meteor crater somewhere east of Flagstaff. It was interesting, but kind of pricey for looking at a really big hole in the ground. This section of Arizona is at a pretty high elevation, so it was wickedly cold with a biting wind. Thus, even after spending the money, I didn’t feel like standing on the rim for very long.

meteor crater, light spot is mine shaft

The crater was formed about 50,000 years ago when an iron-nickel meteorite, estimated to be 150 feet across, slammed into the earth with an explosive force greater than 20 million tons of dynamite. It left a bowl-shaped cavity 700 feet deep and 4000 feet across. Put in relative terms, twenty football games could be played on its floor at the same time, while two million spectators watched from the sides of the bowl. If the Washington monument were placed on the crater’s current floor, the top would be at eye level. So, big and deep.

crater with person for scale

When the crater was first written about, it was assumed that it was of volcanic origin. Not until 1902, when a mining engineer named Daniel Barringer became interested in it, was the hole finally attributed to a meteor impact. Mr. Barringer was convinced that the meteorite was iron and that it was buried beneath the crater floor. He formed the Standard Iron Company and placed mining claims with the federal government. This gave him ownership of the crater. What he didn’t know was that the meteorite had disintegrated on impact. There was no large mass of iron to be recovered.

old mine shaft in bottom

So, after more than 26 years of digging, drilling and exploration, there was no money left for further exploration and very little iron had been recovered. He later leased the land to a cattle ranch that formed a separate corporation to utilize the site for tourism and scientific exploration. NASA has even used it to train astronauts, particularly those who would be collecting samples on the moon from similar craters there!

It was actually a rather interesting place with viewing platforms, a theater showing films related to the crater and educational areas, as well as the obligatory gift shop. If it hadn’t been so late and cold I might have spent a little longer looking at the exhibits. But I was hoping to drop to a lower elevation for the night and find somewhat warmer temperatures (yeah, right.) I did get as far as Winslow, Arizona where I looked for the “Standing on the Corner” statue (a tribute to an Eagles song that talks about doing just that), but didn’t find it. Of course, it was getting dark by then. The good news is that I found it the next morning before I left town. The bad news is that there was no place close by where I could park so that I could take a picture. Oh well, at least I saw it.

I continued east and the day became quite windy. Which frequently means a change in the weather. That afternoon I got a call from my sister who told me that there was a mean cold front heading my way that was forecast to go all the way south to Dallas. And that’s exactly what it did. And why there is an earlier post about being trapped in the ice in Texas.

Now it’s January, and I’m on the Alabama/Georgia border in a Corps of Engineers campground called Cotton Hill on the shore of a large lake that would be pretty if it weren’t so darn cold! It rained the first two days of my stay. The sun came out on the third day, but it barely got above 40 with an icy wind. Tomorrow is supposed to be better and Sunday is scheduled to be in the low 60’s. I was supposed to stay until Tuesday, but the forecast for Monday night is a low in the low teens. I’ll be leaving Monday morning is the hope of finding somewhere with warmer temperatures to spend the night…..

A Duel to the Death (Valley, That Is…)

I finally made it to Death Valley. I lived in California for over 30 years and never once set foot in Death Valley National Park. I was close many times. I visited all kinds of places around the park. But I was always in the area in summer. Death Valley in summer would not be my first choice, or my second for that matter. The closest I came was a brief visit to Death Valley Junction, many, many years ago. (A place, which, according to my Garmin GPS doesn’t actually exist. I’m dumping it in favor of a Magellan unit similar to the one I accidentally destroyed…but that’s another story.)

I headed into the park from the Junction, which, as luck would have it, turned out to be one of the few roads that was actually open. A while back there was a lot of rain in a place where there isn’t supposed to be much rain. The storm buried many of the roads in the park. So many of the roads in fact, that I’m going to have to make a second trip to the park at a later date. Most of the areas I wanted to explore were out of reach, as the roads to them were out of commission. I had no idea. If I had, I would have chosen a different place to visit this time around. But it is what it is (or was what it was, whatever.)

Death Valley is beautiful, in a bleak sort of way. There is very little vegetation. Any color there comes primarily from the rocks—when you happen to be in an area where they aren’t just brown and black. In the higher elevations there are some stunted tree-like things, but those are few and far between. Death Valley is a very apt name for the place.

hills, detail

Hills near the entrance

I met a few people there who are so in love with it that they come back every year to spend time in its starkness. I admit that it is peaceful and exudes a certain charm, but I am fond of green and growing things and there aren’t many of those things in Death Valley. I guess I’m not really the desert type.

Death Valley “moonscape”

My first stop (aside from a couple of photo ops) was at the visitors center at Furnace Creek. Which is where I found out that most of the roads were out of commission. I had originally planned to camp there, but the campgrounds were already getting crowded and I wanted a little peace and quiet. There is, apparently, a group called the 49ers who, I was told, were instrumental in getting Death Valley made a national park. They meet there at the same time every year. And it was almost time, many had already arrived. So I moved on to Stovepipe Wells. Didn’t see any wells, but I did find a campground that was 90 percent empty. Perfect.

another old car

vintage cars on D.V. trek

After settling in I took a little stroll, then relaxed until about a half hour before sunset. That’s when I headed out to the sand dunes that were a little over a mile back up the road. The light is most striking at sunrise and sunset, so I took advantage of that fact to take a few pictures. It would have been nice to hike out into the dunes, but I was still limping from my collision with the side of the RV in Ash Meadows, so I gave hiking a rest.

single dune

sunset shadows

I wasn’t at all disappointed with the scenery at the dunes. As the sun set the lighting became quite dramatic. It also disappeared quickly. Death Valley, being a valley, is ringed by high mountains. The sun sets behind them very quickly. And once it sets, particularly this late in the year, it gets very cool even quicker. So back to the RV for me.

distant dunes

distant “dune” people

mountains beyond dunes

The next day I hopped on my scooter hoping to ride up to Emigrant Canyon. No such luck. It was one of the many roads still closed. So I continued on to Panamint Springs. To reach the Springs from where I was camped you go from below sea level to almost 5000 feet, over a mountain pass then back down a couple thousand feet. Any misgivings I might have had about my new scooter were vanquished on this trip. It may be only 125cc’s, but it handled the climb like a mountain goat. The 9% grade on the other side was interesting….to say the least. I was a mite concerned about the trip back as it was much steeper than the side I had come up. But that would be a problem for later.

view from near pass

rest area before pass

As I got down into the valley where Panamint is located the first thing I found was that the road I had planned to use when leaving the park was also closed. No way out there. Then I saw a coyote standing by the side of the road watching me just like I was watching him. I figured that if he was going to pose, I might as well get a picture. Naturally, as soon as the camera came out he vanished into the scrub. Sigh.

There wasn’t much to see at Panamint Springs. A gas station (gas, $6.50 per gallon), convenience store (very little inside), restaurant and campground. I went a little way beyond Panamint to a road that claimed to go out to a waterfall (dry? Oasis?), but the road was so poor and hard on my little scooter that I gave up after less than a mile, had lunch and headed for home.

desert “flower”

I needn’t have worried about how my trusty steed would handle the steep grade on the way back. It had no trouble with it at all. Yamaha did a good job with this little beast. The biggest problem was how cold it was at the top. Since I hadn’t planned on driving over the pass, I hadn’t dressed for how cold it got up there. My entire face was numb long before reaching the top. I was really happy to get back to camp and into my nice warm RV.

That evening I talked to the campground host about my options for leaving the park the next day, since plan “A” was a wash. I had thought about leaving through Panamint Springs. The drive over the pass was a little hairy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Then he told me what it was like not far past the road I had turned on the day before. Seems that the road on the other side is full of tight hairpin turns and rather narrow. Anything over 25 feet in length is a problem. Meaning that the delivery trucks that come over that road are often found taking their half out of the middle. And meeting one on a turn in a large RV can be more than interesting for both parties. He told me that a friend of his came in that way the year before and arrived white-knuckled and shaking. OK, new plan, go out the way I came in.

banded hills

Since I was backtracking, I stopped at a place on the way out that I had by-passed on the way in. It had once been a borax-refining operation. There are still parts of two adobe buildings standing, along with a portion of the refinery. The reason for doing the refining in the middle of Death Valley was a question of distance to the railway. The railroad was so far away that every pound needed to be worth the haul. Thus the borax was refined before the trip out of the valley, reducing its weight by more than half. Of course, refining could only be done during the cooler months. The summers being so hot that no one could survive being near the boilers long enough to do the job.

borax cars

sign

old boiler

After leaving there, I found myself outside the park and heading into the Junction in much less time than I had thought it would take. I stopped at the Amargossa hotel meaning to have lunch in the little diner there, but it was not to be. As soon as I got out of the RV I met another couple who had had the same idea, but for some reason the diner was closed for the day. Bummer. So much for supporting a small business. I ate a carton of yogurt instead.

After that it was back roads to Baker, CA. Beautiful back roads, and interesting driving. I saw a couple of places I wouldn’t have minded spending the night, like one area I saw with beautiful dunes, but I wanted to be at my sister’s in Corona, CA the next day and I was too far away to stop for the night. I continued on past the Antelope Valley area then started looking for a likely spot to spend the night, preferably not too close to the freeway.

I checked out a couple of off-ramps. The first road led nowhere. Just a few feet from the freeway it stopped in an area that was obviously used as an illegal dump. Not even sure why there was an off-ramp there. The second spot just didn’t feel right, so I got back on the freeway. The third time was the charm. The road led straight to an off-road vehicle area on BLM land where you can camp anywhere you want. I picked a spot about a mile away from the freeway, which might as well have been a hundred miles from anywhere. It was peaceful, perfectly vacant and so lacking in light pollution that it almost seemed impossible that I was so close to the L.A. sprawl. The stars there were almost as bright as they had been in Death Valley.

As an aside, that second place I had checked on, the one I rejected as “not feeling right”? I saw on the news a few nights later that the bodies of a family that had gone missing a few years before were unearthed there less than a week after I had been there. Creepy. And sad. I hope they find whoever did it, but at this late date I suppose that isn’t likely. Too bad. Whoever did it needs to be caught, but I’m really glad I chose to stop for the night elsewhere…

I Return to San Juan Capistrano

It had been many, many years since I was last in San Juan Capistrano, decades actually.   Even if the swallows no longer return (or very, very few of them anyway), I figured it was well past time for me to do so.  So while my mom and I were spending a couple of days at the beach then end of May, we took a side-trip to SJC and the fabulous mission that (mostly) still exists in the town.  I say “mostly” because a long, long time ago, while the mission was still being used, there was an earthquake.  the roof and a portion of the sanctuary wall fell in on the worshipers, killing many.  The church was never rebuilt.

SJC bells

earthquake damaged church

While the building may no longer be what it once was, the gardens are still fabulous.  There is also another sanctuary on the grounds that is still in use today.   After over a hundred and something years, they are still holding weekly masses.  It’s a beautiful old building with a tiny chapel off to one side with a statue that is supposed to have something to do with miracle healings.   The statue is of a man (priest?) who had advanced cancer who prayed for healing and got it.   The chapel is tiny, probably couldn’t hold more than 15 people, tops, and was something of an oven from the candles burning at the altar.    But boy does it have atmosphere!   The ancient adobe walls and rolling floors carry the weight of their decades and echo the footsteps and prayers of the thousands of people who have worshiped and prayed there.   Their spirits emanate from the bricks and whisper to everyone who lingers long enough to listen.

The grounds were so great.  Since I am really into gardening, it was especially nice for me.  Tons and tons of flowers, lots of butterflies.   Water gardens around the fountains, complete with koi.  I was in heaven.   But the swallows.  What happened to the swallows?  Seems they no longer return to Capistrano.   There were even recordings of swallow mating calls being played near some of the walls in an attempt to attract more birds.  Oh, there were three or four occupied nests (they have even installed some permanent “mud” nests for any enterprising birds that happen to be checking out the old home place.   And a telescope trained on one of the occupied nests so tourists could get their swallow “fix”.

SJC gardens and arches

We had a wonderful afternoon.   We stayed until the mission closed for the day and they kicked us out.   And then I found an adorable new top at a store across the street on our way back to our car.  Is that a perfect day, or what?

SJC church still in use

A Trip to Pechanga and Temecula

On June 1st, Karen and I went to the Pechanga Casino in Temecula.   Normally I wouldn’t go to a casino, not really my thing, but Karen likes to play the slots.   They also have  a once-a-month event where everyone who is a member of their “frequent gamblers club”  (not sure what their name for it is…) who has a birthday in that month can attend a special event  on that day.  When the birthday people log-in,  they get to earn double points for everything they do that day, attend an event with entertainment (in this case, a comedian),  eat cake and ice cream, drink soft drinks and each birthday-member can  enter a drawing for various cash prizes to be given out at the event.    There were about 8 $250 prizes, 5 or 6 $500 prizes and a couple for $1000.

Each “birthday person” decides which drawing they would like to enter.  Karen gave me her ticket and told me to pick one.  I had a strong inclination to go for the $500 drawing, so that’s where I put her ticket.   I also told her that she would win.   She didn’t believe me.  I don’t know why, maybe because I almost never win anything.

We wandered off and stuck money in slot machines for a couple of hours then stopped for lunch.  After eating, we went to the event for cake and  comedy.   When it came time for the drawings, I reminded Karen that she was going to win $500.    She still didn’t believe me, silly person.   Karen’s was the second name called for the $500 prize!   She was so surprised that at first, she just sat there and stared.   Then she got up to claim her prize.   We took the voucher to the cashier to trade it in for real money and they said it would be at least an hour until the check would be ready.  Pooh.

We had tickets to see the balloon glow at the Temecula Wine and Balloon Festival that evening and it was getting close to sunset, so we left.  We figured we would just come back after the glow to collect her winnings, as the two places were only about 20 minutes apart.

We found our way to the festival and parked.  The festival was held in a state park located out a long, winding road at the base of the foothills.   There were a lot of booths representing various things from wine to art to all sorts of food, clothing and electronics.   In the center of everything were the balloons.   Unfortunately, not very many of them.   I was very disappointed.   There were maybe 8 balloons crammed into as small a space as they could fit them in.    The glow was advertised to last until a specified time at night.   The tickets were anything but free.   The balloons were all packed up and gone about half an hour before the glow was advertised to end.  I was totally under-whelmed.    About the only thing that impressed me at all was a booth of photography by a young man named Bodhi Smith.  ( http://www.bodhismith.com )

balloon glow

Temecula balloon glow

Then came the fun part.  Trying to leave.  Remember that long, winding road to the festival?  One lane in, one lane out.  And everybody who attended the glow was on that road, trying to leave.  Thousands of people.   At times we got up to as much as 8 miles per hour!    So, over an hour later we arrived back at the casino.  We weren’t done with lines.  We stood in line to get the check.  We stood in line to cash the check.   We left.   We got home sometime after midnight.   Crud.  I still had to pack to fly back to St. Louis the next day.

Still, we did have  a very nice day.  Karen found several items at the glow she wanted to purchase,  and  all-in-all, even with the gambling losses, she still cleared around $300.   If you can’t win one way, win another!