Blog

This will be a short blog as it was a travel day for us as we returned to Salt Lake City in the late afternoon.

I also made a mistake and took the more scenic route, which, according to Navigation, was only fifteen minutes longer, but wow, was it desolate. This meant there were no rest areas, open places you would want to stop at, and endless ranges with cows for more than two hours of the four-hour driving. Deborah–Says she is still speaking to me.

Starting from the beginning, we both rose early, packed the rest, and got our stuff together. We are sorry to say that a gal from below us asked us to knock it off as they were trying to sleep. The walls (and floors) are thin in Ruby’s Inn, and we had kept them awake. We felt bad about that, but we did not make much more noise than usual.

We headed to the restaurant and enjoyed another included breakfast. We decided to take another trip to Bryce Canyon National Park to see awesome again. It is only a few minutes away from our hotel. We had to show our pass as it was after 8. Next, we stopped at the Visitor Center, saw Ranger Ben again, thanked him, and picked up a few items and another stamp on the paper map they give you. Next, remembering from our last visit, we headed to the Zion Lodge, parked there, and walked to the rim of the canyon. This time, we ensured we found Thor’s Hammer (we had a picture from the guidebook), and I discovered I was looking at the wrong hammer. The hoodoos have many shapes, and there are thousands. We enjoyed the view and just marveled. We were both smiling from the awesome, headed to Zion Lodge’s gift store (this one was always closed when we were there before), and found a few more things we needed.

We returned to the hotel, grabbed a luggage cart, and quietly gathered our stuff into various bags (most already assembled) and rolled to the front desk, checked out, and loaded the Hyundai (with 3/4 a tank). I then picked one of the three routes provided on my iPhone, not thinking that there would be routes for hours through cow lands with no services (unless you are a free-ranging cow). We then drove down roads that eventually had no painted lane lines, few signs, and often no phone service. Lucky for us, dead-reckoning navigation systems have greatly improved, and we found our way.

The canyons were lovely, and had there been a rest area or a coffee shop somewhere in the tiny towns, the trip would have had less difficulty. The massive ranges with only cows and a few areas with irrigation and plowing equipment to grow, we believe, hay. Some pastures had sheep and horses. Deborah looked for a place to stop, and we learned that most towns had fewer than a few hundred people and did not have gas or a general store. I did wonder where folks get their groceries. This is the dry highlands of Utah; you cannot grow much here. We also noticed that many of the cows were in areas with small creeks and lakes, which answered the question of how the cows survived. There is no shade, but water would help.

We were thrilled to finally reach the vicinity of Highway 15 and some truck stops. We used the 76 Gas Station facilities (having stopped drinking water when we realized what we were up against) and then had lunch at the attached Denny’s. All this bounty was found just outside of Scipio (population about 350), still without gas or any stores in the crossroads that suggested a downtown area.

Relief, walking, food, and refueling the car, we were ready for the next ninety minutes to reach SLC. Traffic immediately became more complex and seemed a duel between three types of drivers: Those who went fast and did not care if other vehicles had to brake for them, those who went fast and stayed calm and polite, and the scared drivers who went slow and then suddenly did something. I tried to be the middle one, but stayed to speed limits (plus a wee bit more) as I did not want my rent-a-car to become interesting to any local officials. I did not want to help fund Utah’s local governments besides my spending on gas and food.

We used navigation to find the delightful Little America Hotel (across from the Grand America Hotel, which was built, we were told, for the Olympic Games, as the only 5-star hotel in SLC at the time). Our room was fabulous and not as expensive as other nearby hotels (though breakfast was not included). Parking is $18 a day with or without valet.

We were tired, napped, and enjoyed the room for a while. We found dinner in the bar, but I forgot my wallet (you must have an ID to order drinks, one that can be scanned), so I went back and retrieved it. We had a wonderful (though expensive) meal and then collapsed in a heap in the room. The food is brought from the Coffee House to the bar, we learned. All good.

Sleep was broken as usual in a new hotel. We had trouble getting the temperature right.

Thanks for reading!

 

We have, here at Ruby’s Inn, an almost two-hour drive to Zion and then to the parking area inside the center. This means a rushed breakfast and then a later arrival at the park. Almost 10:00 when we get there. After driving, we had to circle four times and then found a car backing up and grabbed their spot. Must be good living as others seemed to be circling for some time.

Going backward a bit, the drive into Zion National Park includes multiple tunnels (and two tiny ones in the Red Canyon near Bryce), including one that is 1.1 miles long. After the tunnel, there are some 15 mph turns with drops, creating switchbacks to get you down to the valley floor (still about 4,000 feet above sea level). It was another twenty minutes to reach the Visitor’s Center, and mandatory bus usage (unless you are a guest at the Lodge or have a pass). Beside the narrow road, seemingly glued to a cliff-side in what seemed like random places, were parked cars and people walking on the road to get to a viewpoint or other lookout before reaching the visitor center. We also found a goat that decided to show off, slowing traffic with its cuteness.

We tried the facilities and the gift shop until joining a Disney-like line for a ride. It was ten more minutes to get to a bus, and it was not hot yet, but during our multiple trips, I got a chair once when young folks offered two for Deborah and me. I never found the park quiet, peaceful, or comfortable. The buses were always packed and became uncomfortable as the day got warmer.

Deborah wore the backpack, and we had to keep all our stuff there, as there were no lockers, and the trip back to the car would be long and sweaty. It got heavy as we took off our layers. Again, we had no lockers or anywhere to put things. We saw lots of people carrying stuff. People in waders looked very warm (we later learned that the river trail to The Narrows is literally in the water).

We loved the Weeping Rocks and the Hanging Gardens. It was fantastic, but the steep climb was hard. Like everyone else, we had to carry everything we brought. It was our best moment in the Park.

Other climbs were interesting, and we did walk a few more, but none were as awesome as the Hanging Gardens. We started the river walk to see how far we could get, but it is a mile walk in with all our stuff, and we turned around. Nope.

It was crowded, with few benches and seldom on difficult trails. The map we had was rudimentary, and the signs were few, if any. Even our reliable guidebook seemed to be overemphasizing a large rock as an interesting sight. After spending over six hours, and having a lovely lunch at the Lodge (now I have had lunch/dinner at three of the great lodges, we took the bus back. Found the car (Deborah had taken a picture, which was good since the phone’s navigation was not connecting well). Our drive back was fabulous as we knew what to expect, so there was less white-knuckle driving.

(Yes, the water bottle got in the picture. I did not notice it when I took the picture).

It was two hours back, and we reached Ruby’s Inn before sundown. We tried two other restaurants in the area, and like most things in Utah on a Sunday night, they were closed. We looked on our way from Zion, and nothing was open, not even most gas stations. We had dinner at Ruby’s Inn. We went to bed early as we were tired.

Again, I am sorry if this sounds a bit harsh on Zion, but it was not a good experience. I think staying at the lodge in the fall, before it gets too cold and the tourist season ends, would be lovely ($424 a night). This would allow you to return to a home base. We left and entered Bryce Canyon and Arches multiple times and found the experience more positive.

Note: Women’s Restrooms had long lines and were out the door. Food lines were long. This was early in the season and before the hot weather. Yikes!

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

Deborah and I have endless photos of pink rocks (and some other colors) and us standing at various overlooks. Please excuse us if we are enthused by rocks and the amazing views of Bryce Canyon National Park.

(Bryce Point, my hand is on the railing, and I notice my feet are apart to keep me balanced!).

Our day started early, just after six, and we reached the complimentary buffet breakfast in the restaurant. It was not quite the industrial version from IHG, but it was not much more. I was hoping for an omelet bar or excellent baked goods. Nope, but it still worked. Deborah did have to buy some yogurt as theirs was more like ice cream and loaded with sugar. We did refill our water bottles.

Bryce Canyon is about four miles away, and we soon, I wearing a sweater, coat, and hat, and Deborah also in layers, reached the entrance. The rangers were not there, so you drove through. We then tried the visitor center to learn if there was anything we should know. We met Ranger Ben, who gave us a map and pointed out that parking in the park becomes difficult around 10 in Sunset Point. He also validated that a geology talk would be given at Sunset Point at 11. I found some postcards and stamped our map with the park stamp. Someday, I will invest in a US National Park passport book. I have an Arches National Park stamp on a piece of paper.

We had planned to drive to the end of the park, but after discussing it, we used the park map we were given and instead stayed in the Bryce Amphitheater Area for the morning and start of the afternoon. We first stopped at Sunrise Point (it was well past sunrise when we got there) and were blown away by the Hoodoos and structure of Bryce Canyon. We walked and took pictures for about an hour just at this first one. We walked the easy cement trails and a few gravel paths (never walking off-trail — there are cliffs everywhere).

We walked back to the Hyandia and then to the General Store at the Sunrise area. There we purchased some sandwiches and drinks. We put this in the insulated bag Deborah got on our first day of traveling. This kept the food cool in the car while we walked and looked at even more pinkish rocks.

We headed to Sunset Point and circled the parking lot three times until someone pulled out and we got a spot. Just luck. We then walked along the cement paths and soon reached the overlook.  We walk down part of the Queen’s Garden Trail. I found my balance issue only surfaces when standing on uneven surfaces with one foot higher than the other; I sway. Not a good thing, so I climbed back out of the trail, but we were still quite happy to walk some of it and see into the canyon.

(I found a rock to hold on to while I was on the path)

Next, we saw an overlook not far and started to walk to it. We found a sign that explained where we were between the two overlooks. Yes, we were walking back to the same place. We laughed and headed back. We found the benches where the talk was to be given, and to our surprise, it was the same ranger, Ben, we had met before.

Ranger Ben covered altitude sickness first and asked if everyone was OK. It is a serious risk here, he explained, and asked us all to be careful and aware, “We will get you oxygen if you need it.” Then Ben spotted some folks off-trail, heading toward a cliff, while trying to give his lecture. Ben stopped, ran, yelled, and whistled, and the folks got back on the trail. He said flatly, “We call that part of the cliff The Diving Board,” and then returned to his lecture. He reminded us multiple times to stay on-trail in the park as he told the park’s geological story.

Ben gave a very interesting history of the geology from the science he understood. He said there may be other beliefs, but as a ranger and someone interested in geology, he would stick to the scientific answers. He covered the age of the rocks and what we could see formed them, and later, when asked by Deborah, he covered what dinosaur fossil fragments they found here (reptiles, water-based creatures, featured in a recent movie, and others). Most of the rock we see, he explained, was not from that time period but after the extinction. He did say that if we looked far to a cliff across the park, the bands of gray-green were from the time of dinosaurs.

Ben did a marvelous job. We learned much. Next, we were hungry and showing signs of altitude sickness (8,400 feet), so we grabbed a picnic table and had lunch and water. Food and water helped, but we were both suddenly tired and decided to rest at the hotel (down to 7,670 feet). We arrived without issue, and soon I was sleeping, and Deborah was reading. We cleaned up and spent some time together.

We then returned to our original plan and drove to the end of the park. It seemed to take forever, and we were over 9,000 feet when we reached Rainbow Point. It was windy and cold, but the view was amazing. There was snow here and there, and it froze at night, according to Ranger Ben’s lecture.

 

We then stopped a few times and found amazing vistas with Aqua Canyon being especially lovely. The Land Bridge was an amazing arc. And our last stop was Bryce Point with a walk out into the canyon, seemingly glued to a few stones (at least to me). The wind suddenly picked up, and I managed to save my hat by taking it off early when I heard it. I had to hold on to the railing, and I kept imagining falling off. But it was a wonderful view, mesmerizing.

Next, we headed to the Lodge. Utah’s National Park Lonely Planet Guide was excellent (Deborah found it the night before in the General Store at Ruby’s Inn), and it suggested the Lodge parking to see the Sunset and Sunrise points, but we covered them in the morning. Instead, we got a table by the window and had a lovely dinner and drinks in the park for way too much money (But Ruby’s and other places have been expensive), and at least we got to eat in one of the historic Great Parks Lodge.

After that, we went out to the rim again, only to discover it was between Sunset and Sunrise points. We did this spot in the morning. Laughing, we headed back to Ruby’s Inn. I gassed the car for a war-inflated price of $4.49 a gallon.

Today was a No Kings Protest across the USA. Our friends were out there trying to make things better. Thank you.

And that takes me to now. I am tired and trying to write. Thanks for reading!

 

This will be a short blog, as I am tired, and while it is not that late, it feels late because I drove for over four hours to get here at Ruby’s Inn in Bryce Canyon City, a few miles from the park by the same name. It was a lovely drive, especially the few miles descending from 7777 feet, then Red Canyon on the scenic Byway 12.

We rose early, and Deborah packed and then headed off to her sessions, and I made coffee in the room (one for Deborah earlier) and wrote the blog. I invested most of the morning writing and doing the usual things, including paying for my health insurance premium for another month, for over $1,100.

Next, I doom scrolled, and the 1929 book did come to mind. The stock market face-planted into correction territory after it stopped listening to the President’s promise that the war is over (just like the Wall Street Bankers in 1929, I just read about who kept saying the crash was just a temporary misunderstanding). And with Mr. Trump’s pressure to lower interest rates, there is nowhere to put your money for any good return for reasonable risk. I will be glad for my first Social Security check in May. I cannot pull anything from my IRA in this kind of market. Time to buckle up and ride it out.

I am traveling on Thursday. I was happy to hear that President Trump finally agreed to pay the TSA workers. He could have done that for the last two weeks. I am not making a political statement here; he really could have done that all along.

Next, I wrote a nice story of our last full day in Salt Lake City, and had some of the pizza from last night for breakfast while I worked on it. Deborah also brought me some of her breakfast, and that was lovely: jam on a biscuit, bacon, and a potato. I wrote some more, packed, and soon published. I showered and finished packing. I then wheeled the heavy bags to the car. I was thinking I should move it closer as it was a long path in the parking garage, but no, I thought I should only make this trip one more time.  I then returned, and Deborah was between sessions. She had some books she received, and I hauled the books and my gym bag with my computer to the car, and again I thought I should move it. But then thought, no, that should be the last trip.

Deborah was back to her sessions, and I walked down to the Tabernacle at Temple Square for the noon recital. There were about a hundred of us (at least one school bus load of young folk). The sound was incredible as the building was built in the 1800s, before microphones, and someone projecting their voice could be heard everywhere. The pipe organ was loud but not brutally so, not even shaking the floor. The delicate notes were clear. The recital lasted thirty minutes and was a tour of the organ’s sound and capabilities, as well as the room. I enjoyed “Were You There?” and a modern atonal piece that showcased the player’s ability to coax new sounds from the organ and the room. After the playing, the organist, a young man, met folks; he seemed to love his job.

With that done, I walked back to the room and met Deborah there. Next, I put on her backpack and walked it down to the car again, thinking I should have moved the car, but it did not matter. This was the last thing.

Deborah checked us out of the hotel, and then we waited for the drawing, and sadly, Deborah did not win. We then walked one last time down to the car and got in, and I commented on how long that walk was and that I should have moved the car closer three times ago. Deborah just laughed at me.

We picked up sandwiches before we left, and I then drove us out of SLC and headed south. Deborah, starving, finally ate her sandwich when traffic was not chaotic, and later we stopped at Wendy’s to get me a coffee. I was getting tired after two hours, and ate our sandwiches then.

The drive, now on Highway 15 most of the way, and in Western Utah, was different rocks, mountains, and passes, and the coffee helped. The amount of open territory was even greater than during our previous desolate drive on Highway 6. Wow! We found two rest areas on the whole four-hour drive! This is not Oregon or Michigan, with their thirty-mile-or-so distance between rest areas. The last Starbucks is in Spanish Fork again (I was sure there had to be one on 15, but none after Spanish Fork).

After a long stretch of nothing, we reached Beaver, Utah, and there was a Flying J with everything you might need, plus various fast-food and sit-down places. We used the facilities and took some silly photos. It was a perfect break.

The drive was not stressful, but there was more traffic than last time, and a different route with fewer sudden curves, but some amazing views and more altitude. We left in the afternoon, and I was pretty tired when we finally found Ruby’s Inn.

The place was a madhouse, and parking was filled with folks going everywhere, walking or in cars. We got checked in and found our room to be comfortable, if not a bit plain. We got our bags to the room and soon headed back out for an expensive dinner at the hotel (when we were in the General Store, we saw folks grabbing frozen dinners to microwave in their rooms; not a bad plan). Instead, we had steaks and drinks. Our waiter, Isaac, had been working there for seven years and is part of the family that owns the inn. He helped us with the menu and was friendly. He gave us some advice on Capital Reef National Park. We think we want to stop there on the way back to SLC to break up the trip.

We were tired and found a Lonely Planet book on Utah’s National Parks in the General Store, which is helping us plan a half-day visit to Bryce. We are not planning to hike, but just to enjoy the simple things (though we can do a short hike we discovered in Arches).

And with that, I think I can stop here in our room.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

This is the Thursday blog written on Friday morning. Yesterday I called it Thursday when it was Wednesday. Sorry!

At the end of the night, I was at Soundwell: Studio bar across from the hotel, with a DJ spinning original vinyl records from the 1960s. The turntables, some old-school-sounding amps (I did not see any tubes), and his care made the records sound perfect. I had not heard before, that I remember, Lee Morgan’s The Sidewinder from 1964. It was wonderful, and hearing it made my night (here is a version). I thanked the DJ, who told me that this music was the first Jazz to make the charts in the USA.

The chef made a wonderful, slightly spicy but subtle Vodka Sauce to go with the garlic bread (freshly baked in a pull-apart form filled with cheese. I told him that it was the best version I had had and better than my version (which is pretty good, but a bright sauce). He explained it was the recipe from their executive chef, and he loved making it. The chef explained it has only four ingredients and is all technique, but the secret he shared is baking it in the pizza oven (600ºF/315ºC). “That is what makes the difference,” he told me. Later, he would send me a complimentary dessert of baked bread with a sweet sauce.  Excellent.

Later, I would get a pizza and have a few slices with plans to have it for lunch too. The director of the bar made me an excellent Olf Fashioned, the other bartender who tookover on a slow night, told me that they (pronoun unknown) did not make whiskey drinks, but they tried (It was the first drink I ever sent back), and then they made me a decent Old Fashioned. I was reading my new book on Absinthe, Absinthe Forger by Evan Rail, and they made my drinks with special whiskey.

At the end of the night, the bill was high, the food was reasonable, but the drinks, no surprise in SLC, were expensive. I paid the high bill with a tip. I also gave the DJ, who was in a tip jar, a $5 tip. It was an educational night. I met, without planning, Deborah and her co-worker in the hotel lobby. We chatted and then said goodnight. Next, I tried to fit the pizza in the fridge (the slices ended up stacked there) and found my PJs and soon fell asleep.

Starting Thursday morning, we woke early and watched the sky turn from dark to gray to bright blue. Today would be in the 70ºFs (20ºCs). Deborah dresses and heads off to her sessions. I write the blog for a few hours in the morning. I shower and all that, but forget to remove the Do-not-disturb sign when I head out (but Deborah got us towels and coffee, and, to our surprise, the hotel staff cleaned the room later).

Today I would use the car and try to reach some new places in SLC. I found the car where I left it (using the convention center elevators to reach the parking garage level P2. I used the room key to leave the garage, and the valet folks had told me it was a daily charge and that I could come and go without extra charges. Fingers crossed!

My first stop was the King’s English book store that Dondrea had recommended. It is an amazing place; a house, they explained, that was slowly turned into the eclectic storefront with tiny rooms and steps and ramps here and there. It is, unlike many in Portland, only new books, but the collection is wonderfully complete, and I found books there that I had known about and got a wonderful book on Absinthe that I already mentioned (already on chapter 4), and a few knick-knacks. I felt that the bookstore was curated to have complete sections and not a pile of picked-over books you find in many branded stores. I thanked the staff for their excellent collection.

Next, driving to the other side of SLC (this would become a theme as I would retrace some routes four times), I arrived at Hastur’s Games (H*****r is part of the Lovecraft Mythos and is known as “He with the Unspeakable Name”). It is a clean and well-organized gaming store, but prices are disclosed at the check-out. Hmmm. There, I found many of the add-ons for Arkham Horror: The Card Game for sale, which I received for Christmas, and the game is out of print as it heads toward a second version, which reportedly will not align with the first version (I have yet to play it, but I am quite happy with this version). I was tempted to get the large add-on (as this is hard to find), but instead, thinking of my luggage, picked a $14 additional story. They also had a cheap figure (unpainted) for more than 30% off. If I were here for any length of time, I would definitely try the store out; there are plenty of tables to play on (though each is marked with the Unspeakable Name and the Yellow Symbol). An insanely nice store!

I waited twenty minutes for lunch at the legendary Red Iguana Mexican-style restaurant. The salsa was spiced but did not have the cheap burn of many and was light on the tomatoes. My meal was mole, with too much food to dip in the cosmically good stuff (I did eat it all, having skipped breakfast). The mole was a chocolate savory sauce with ground, toasted seeds. Dreamy and again not slap-you spice. Wow!

Fed, I headed to get gas for the Hyundai as we have a four-hour trip back to the south of Utah on Friday. The Sinclair (the one with the dinosaur) offered $4.29 a gallon, and I was below half a tank. I performed the unfamiliar ritual (Oregon is an optional full-service at the same price as self-service, and I now drive an EV) and payment. I could not resist getting DINOCARE with all the Jurassic stuff we saw. We are set for Friday’s drive now.

Next, retracing, I headed to Utah’s Fine Art Museum, which had a tiny collection intermixed with modern pieces. There were no masterpieces there, which surprised me (no Monet or other French Impressionists). But the staff had an interesting write-up for the art they did have. One described how the item, a wooden warrior shield from Africa, had been collected by a German, purchased by a museum, traded for another item from another collector, later purchased from the art collector in a private sale, and then donated to the museum. I saw only one item I thought remarkable, a 1600s Japanese sword from the Yamato area.

Deborah asked for some yogurt by text, and I found Smith’s Grocery (now owned by Kroger) and used its down escalator to reach the produce and dairy area (I did not see how carts get back up). I found the requested product, took the escalator, checked out manually (the only option I saw), and discovered my discount card worked here too. Again, I saw folks silently restocking who were obviously not native born Americans. Hmmm.

(yes, 42)

I return to the hotel, bring Deborah her food, and we spend some time together, sharing about our day.

And that takes me full circle as Deborah has a vendor dinner and I started looking for music, drink, and a snack.

Thanks for reading!