After Effects

So I sit in my room, less than twelve hours from the start of school. Last week I was across the country on an amazing journey. I got to go on the trip of a lifetime down Route 66, and I got to take that trip with my sister. It doesn't feel real. It went too fast. By the time it really sank in, I was on my way to the airport and I didn't want to say goodbye to Brianne...or to the route.

But I had to. I was uneasy about being alone but the flight put me at ease. I have always loved flying. Turbulence actually makes me feel safer. It reassures me that the air is still holding up the craft. I didn't get near as much reading done as I wanted to but I was able to reflect on my journey.

The single moment that will forever sum up route 66 for me was that one stretch in Oklahoma that curved and rose with the land and let in the beautiful light of the sunset as me and Brianne just drove. The wind came blasting across our faces and we just enjoyed the absence of all the other cars.

Goodbye 66 and thank you...

SMK

As Natalie Merchant Says, Thank you, Thank you…

Saturday morning, I drove Sam to the airport to see her off.  She would be flying by herself, but I was in charge of escorting her to the gate in LA, and Mom and Dad would be at the gate in Milwaukee to pick her up.  The only time she’d ever really be alone is on the actual plane where she had planned to read her school assignment, as she had at least four hours to do so.

At the very end of a trip, through all the picture sharing and stories, there is always one moment when you realize the trip is finally over.  It occurred to both of us in the airport, but at different times. 

I know LAX better than I know O’Hare and Mitchell and Midway.  It’s the airport I’ve flown out of more than a dozen times and though it is ALWAYS changing, it never makes me too nervous.  But flying itself… that’s a whole other story, and to make me less nervous, I have certain rituals I do in an almost OCD type of way.  

This time, I was not flying, so obviously, no nerves were present.  But Sam was uneasy, and the only thing I could think of to do, was to take her through the steps I know help me when I’m in the same situation.  I’m not sure if hot chocolate at Starbucks helped, or the phone call as soon as she was seated did.  Honestly, no matter what you do, boarding that plane always feels so ominous… not like something bad is going to happen… but like, well… planes just mark either the beginning or the end of a journey.  This one marked an end to an adventure Sam and I had been dreaming about for quite awhile.   When it was time to board, she couldn’t stop hugging me.  I had to push her over to the attendant.  Thankfully, I held it together…

…. until my Almost Famous moment.

I don’t really know what came over me.  I was standing in the Southwest terminal, sipping my Chai, watching the plane… and then it pulled away from the gate, moving away from my window.  I felt like any normal person would leave, in fact, the parents of two other children who were also on the plane by themselves left at that moment, but I was compelled to race across the terminal to watch the plane roll out of view, and then down the runway. 

The tears didn’t fall until I sat down in my car, but they weren’t tears of sadness or the emptiness that comes with sending loved ones off.  There just wasn’t anything to do anymore.  The trip happened.  A month flew by before my very eyes, and the only thing to do now sift through the notes and pictures for answers to questions I thought I might find somewhere between hard stone mesas, state dividing rivers, and giant fiberglass rabbits.  

The only sure thing I’ve realized is that this trip has been amazing from start to finish.  And it would never have happened without the support of…  well, really, it wouldn’t have happened without varying life events launching me into an existential quandary… but it also wouldn’t have been the same without the support of friends and family. 

At this time, I would like to say thank you to all of those people who contributed to the trip. 

HUGE HUGE HUGE THANKS to Mom and Dad.  – Mom, thank you for resisting the urge to call me during part one of my trip.  Dad, thank you for keeping up with the blog and leaving us comments.  They meant a lot.  Mom and Dad, thank you for letting me kidnap your youngest daughter to take her on this pretty awesome journey.  Any horrible influences she’s come home with… well, I blame my friends.

MUSIC:

Sammie and I would like to thank the following people for providing us with a soundtrack to the journey.  (And yes, we made it through all of the music.) It wouldn’t have been the same trip without any of it, and I will try really hard to remember some of the highlights… this could get long.  You may want to scroll.

Erin B. - Of all the people who contributed music, you knew me best in high school, and I have to say that your CD made me laugh.  I was able to share many memories with Sam:  TCDFM, “Crash, Crush, Stay… they all have five letters…er…., “ Star Wars, our strange obsession with ID4, Marching Band, and… heh, heh… that ride to ISU for band competition in Junior High, where I kept making you listen to Lovefool by the Cardigans against your will… yeah… decapitated Barbie.  Gooood times. J

Beth – A compendium it was, indeed.  Truly a gift from a #1 friend.  I love you, lady!  Due to its extensive list of music, I won’t go into too much detail, but I wish you were here, so that I could hug you in person.  Unfortunately, you will just have to settle for this ::hug:: instead.

Gabe D. – Of all the CD’s I burned for myself, yours is the only one that came out without problems.  In hindsight, that was for the best. ;)  So, before I launch into highlights… where the hell was the DMB?  We have several intense conversations on the wonders of Dave Matthews and he isn’t even represented?!  For shame!   You did include Company of Thieves, though, so I suppose you might be forgiven. Anyway, you told me to listen to this after eating, so Sam and I popped it in after our Texas Roadhouse lunch, and pie at the Midpoint Cafe.   This mix was pretty awesome.  Loved the cover of 1901 as well as the Cults and the Postal Service.   Taper Jean Girl is one of my favorite Kings of Leon songs.  And Far Behind, Touch, Peel, and Stand, and Don’t Panic brought me back to driving around my hometown in the “Kluger-mobile.”  Nice job.  Enjoyed it all. J

J Dizzle McFizzle – Of all the people that contributed CD’s, you were the most surprising, because, as we’ve discussed, you are the least likely to want to make a mix CD.  Haha!  But you did, and it was filled with fantastic driving songs that all reminded me of you.  Sam’s favorite was the two Doctor Who tracks.  And let me tell you, blaring the theme song while exiting Oklahoma and entering Texas is pretty spectacular.

Mr. Jlsh – Six CD’s worth of music.  SIX!  And you were not the person with the most donated discs, either.  Sammie isn’t here to tell me one way or another, but I have a feeling your mix was one of her favorites, as she kept asking if she should put another Mr. Jlsh CD in, and I kept reminding her that we had other people’s mixes to listen to.  Lol.  The memories I now have the most associated with your mix are:  driving through west past Pasadena, because I previewed the first three discs on the drive westward (the CD’s I made for myself got messed up and I had to listen to some of the donations early), and driving through New Mexico, through beautiful hills suddenly laughing at a rap song involving Han Solo.

My Mandy – Soooo, my dear… Sam and I loved the mix.  Haha,  there was a lot of country on it, but it fit the landscape, so we were ok with it.  I did want to ask you, where was the Good Charlotte?  I mean, if any music represented you and me singing in a car, I’d say it’d be them. ;)  But, for realz, yours was the first official CD we listened to.  And by the time we were crossing the Wisconsin boarder, we were annoying locals by singing along with Rascal Flatts, “LIFE IS A HIIIIGHHWAY, I WANNA RIDE IT ALLL NIGHHHT LOONG.”  And the Lucky Boys Confusion inspired me to tell Sam about the first time I saw those guys in concert… it was at the Landing with you and Donna.  Why you are one of my best friends?  Even before we knew each other, you knew how to cure my home sickness.   Fate and Webster University Res Life put us together, and we’ve been friends ever since.  I MISS YOU!!!!!  (Also, The wheel in the sky keeps on turning. ;)

Daniel – I will only say this once.  You will only hear this once.  This was a pretty “fresh” mix.   That is all.

Joe K.  – We both loved your thematic way of breaking the mixes down.  It actually helped when we were trying to pick out CD’s.  Sam would say … “Well, its about to rain, how about Joe’s ‘When it Rains’ CD?”  Lol.  The best thing about having friends and family who are so into music is that when you ask for mixes, not only do they understand what a mix should be, but they include an eclectic mix of music that really makes sense to the theme.  This was very true of your mixes.  Sam, especially, got a kick out of you musical choices.  I know “Sunrise” was a particularly awesome mix that she really liked.  Thank you!!!

Timbo Slice – First of all, thank you for helping with Ms. B.  She seems to be in good spirits and has been actively rearranging her cage like a happy rat since I got home.  Also, you left your Coors here.  Lemme know when you wanna pick that shit up.  ;)   I feel like we listened to your CD in Missouri or Oklahoma, which was a very happy thematic surprise, because it really fit our landscape… Driving music can be anything, from something more of a soundtrack to your surroundings, to something you can sing along to.   For me… if you’re driving the back roads of our country and don’t have music featuring acoustic guitar playing, then you’re un-American.    Awhile ago, you tried to introduce me to Guster, and got upset with me for not following through with my listen.  (To be fair, we were busy, and I wasn’t able to give it any proper attention.)  This was a good outlet to intro them again.  Really dig them, Tim.  Good call. J

Regan – Of all the people I wanted to have time to see on my trip back home, you were top on my list.  Unfortunately, you had to contend with the Kenosha County Fair and my grandparents.  I also hope you received my postcard.  I wanted to write something way more profound on it, but I’m not that profound of a person. ;)  Anyway, … thank you.  For the pep talk, and the pep talk via music… and the people of Oklahoma City also thank you for allowing me to grace them with my belting rendition of the theme song to Perfect Strangers.  I now regret driving past Wrigley Field without your CD in.  You’re the best… and… my response to your letter is this:  Good… you best be writin’ more funny...  who’s gonna make me laugh, otherwise?

Brian L. – I was only home for a day, when my mother told me I had mail.  There it was… Time Life’s music series, The Summer of Brianne.  Since it was only available for a limited time, I counted myself lucky to have received this copy.  A three disc set, it carried us through Arizona and California.  Brian’s has the honor of being the last CD we listened to, as we saved vol. 3 for Sam’s ride to LAX.  Very good mix.  Thank you so much for sending it. J  If you could’ve seen my sister’s face when Chris Rock started his bit, you would’ve probably pissed yourself.  It was pretty funny.  I can’t go into detail, only because all three discs are still in my car and I am too lazy to go out to get them, so when we talk next, we’ll talk more about how awesome you are.  Until then… J

Greg – OH MY GOD…  Thank you!!!!  You were the first person to send me stuff, and it was awesome.  I did not listen to the Sedaris, yet.  I can’t do a lot of spoken word while driving… Dad used to listen to a lot of NPR on family road trips, and it would put my brother and I to sleep… now I’m conditioned to fall asleep whenever I hear books on tape or radio programs about flute carving in South America while I’m in a vehicle.  I do love David Sedaris, though, so I actually can’t wait to listen to them while I’m safely far from behind the wheel of Gilbert.  Anyway, just so you know….  We listened to your middle of nowhere CD in New Mexico, I believe.  Gorgeous landscape, and a fantastic soundtrack. J

Auntie Judy – Thank you so much for putting those discs together.  With everything that’s going on in your life, we both really appreciated that you managed to take time out to send us some music! J  I listened to the first four on my way west, and loved it all. J   And Sam and I really enjoyed (as you read via the blog) our CD.  Thank you for the messages on all of them as well, and for being one of our number one fans.  When you go on a journey like this one, even with another person, it can get lonely.  Being reminded that friends and family are with us in spirit, always brightens our day. Thank you! 

Shellcroft – Listened to your CD as we traversed the cornfields in Illinois.  While I relisten just to make sure I don’t miss anything I’m supposed to tell you, all I can see is driving past cornfields and driving under concrete bridges on our way to St. Louis.  Mmmm… road trippy.  Fantastic.  Thank you so much for doing this for me.  Loved it.  Speaking of traversing… I used our Helen Keller analogy in Flagstaff as we were driving through some heavy rainfall.  Thought you’d appreciate that. J  My sister thought I was crazy, and semi inappropriate, but she laughed anyway.

Ryan – I listened to Disc 1 on day two and Disc 2 when we hit Barstow on our way back, so Disc 1 will forever be imprinted with the sights of the Arizona desert from Needles to Seligman when I listen to Disc 1 and  the Bottle Ranch, impending storm clouds, and sunshine outside of San Bernadino with Disc 2.  Loved the mixes! Makes me wonder what they could’ve been with the country inclusions.  Also, for the record, I can’t imagine a road trip without any 70’s pop/rock.  Seems…. Lol… as I told Tim about acoustic guitar and country roads… Un-American.  Lol.   Anyway, for more specifics, I will need to listen to the two discs again.  I know I jotted down notes, but they could be any one of five different places, and note sifting is my biggest project now that I’m home.  What I do remember was thinking that your driving home theme meant that much more when we arrived in LA a day early.  It was a surprise to both of us, and though Sam was catatonic thanks to the amount of driving…  pulling off the 5 onto Los Feliz towards home was pretty emotional for me.   We always forget that the drive home is the most important part of the trip. 

Jeremy – Getting this CD was an adventure, so it was only fitting that it was for an adventure. Haha!  Anyway, Samantha hates the Muppets, which makes her an awful person, I admit. ;)  But, um, track 1… fantastic.  In fact, I would love to take this moment to say thank you to everyone who included the Muppets in their CD’s.  I know Ryan did… I can’t remember specifically who else, but I feel like there were one or two more inclusions plus Brian V texting it to me midway through the trip, and I LOVE the Muppets, so I just told Sam to cover her ears.  Singing Mahna Mahna was a highlight, though… we listened to it in STL on our way to the City Museum, which was perfect.   The whole CD ended up being perfect for our time exploring St. Louis both thematically and as a soundtrack to the city, just one of the many musical surprises on our journey.  My friends are awesome.

Justin – You, my friend, are last, but most assuredly not least.  I actually listened to it westbound first, before listening to it eastbound, and I have to admit that while I was driving through Texas:  down dirt roads laced with Brown Eyed Susans, across dust blown frontage roads, and through ghost towns, I almost wished I was back on your Porch of Awesomness, sipping a cold one, listening to these tunes via vinyl, and talking about the journeys our literary heroes penned decades ago.   Then, I realized where I was and what I was doing, and it made a lot more sense for me to HAVE a journey to write down like those very same heroes, and soon I was out of Texas… the Panhandle, it seems, is not actually very wide.  There are a great many thoughts that came with your CD, sir, which just means there is a very lengthy musical discussion in our future.   Shall I expect cocktails on the porch soon?

THANK YOU all who contributed, all of those who sent messages while I was gone, for prayers and wishes and thoughts, for those who housed me during my travels, fed me during my travels, and those who respected my desire to be alone for a month of soul searching.

Alright, I am now officially signing off.  Lol!  

-B-

P.S.  I will be adding a few more pictures to the blog, just in case you want to come back and check out the once photo void entries. 

 

               

The End is the Beginning is the End

Sam and I woke up early Tuesday morning.  Our thought was that Arizona monsoon season in addition to Route 66 splitting so far away from the interstate in Western Arizona and Eastern California would make driving through any potential storms a little dangerous.  If we got up early and drove, we could avoid any sketchy situations, and enjoy a relatively cloudless drive. 

I figured we would make it to Kingman... Needles if we were lucky... based on my drive the first time and the amount of time it took me to get through Arizona, I assumed driving from the Grand Canyon would add time, and time wasn't what we had this time around.

Oatman and the wild burros.

Additionally, I had received an Arizona Route 66 Passport in Ash Fork on part one of my journey.  Seeing as I was stopping at every visitor's center on the Mother Road, I began to get the passport stamped.  Sam and I decided to finish the book on the way back, which meant that this, too, would add more time.  Time to talk to people in these towns, to look at the sights, to drive the way the Mother Road intended. 

The Hackberry General Store

We arrived in Kingman at around noon, Oatman at one-thirty and Needles by two.  We pet burros, looked at gift shops, snapped pictures... and we drove.  We drove through the cool mountains, past long abandoned ghost towns, through the prickly desert... the wind in our hair and dust clouding behind us.  By Needles, we had a choice:  stay the night in town, or drive through the Californian desert to Barstow.  If we decided on Barstow, it made sense to push on to Los Angeles, as it is only a couple hours away. 

The clouds were only gathering in the east and the day was still young, so Sam said to keep going.  Go we did.  And the clouds didn't catch up until we were almost to Victorville.

Bottle Tree Ranch

I had passed the Bottle Tree Ranch on my way east, but it was fenced off and closed. By the time my brain registered what I had passed, I was already a mile or two away.  This time, Sammie and I needed to visit the Bottle Tree... it would be our thank you to the Mother Road for an amazing journey, and a time for us to take a moment and appreciate what we'd accomplished, to honor what we'd experienced. 

This time, the Bottle Tree was open, and the owner greeted us.  We chatted briefly about where we were going and where we had been.  It's the usual conversation that takes place on the road- in every town, at every stop.  We politely asked if we could add to his collection, and he welcomed the additions.

Our bottles added to the trees.

Sam found the empty spokes for our bottles, on a "tree" somewhere in the back of the "forest."  We took a moment of silence before sharing some of our favorite moments of the trip.  Then we placed the bottles on the tree, and walked away leaving a little piece of ourselves behind. 

I like to think that it was then, the Mother Road blessed us with two of her greatest gifts: conversation with interesting people, and safe travels. 

When we finished, we walked back and thanked the owner for letting us look at his installation.  Suddenly, we found ourselves chatting with him and his wife, about the road, about life, and about the funny way so much about both surprise you.  Life takes you down unexpected paths, and you never know where it will take you. 


In the car driving through the desert.


The storm clouds gathered above our heads during this conversation... they threatened and loomed like they always did, but this time... this time, we weren't nervous.  We just hopped in the car and drove.  When we hit the interstate junction, it was time to say goodbye to the road that took care of us all this way.  For me, it was over 5,000 miles of land, spanning three timezones, three major rivers, and nine states twice over. 

Steinbeck said that the last legs of his trip were a blur.  That the yearning for home took over, and the journey ceased being a journey and became a long, never ending haul. But when he finally made it to the Holland Tunnel, the world lit up... the sky was bluer, the air was cleaner....

Heading towards Hollywood on the 5.

When we drove through San Bernadino, in between the dark storm clouds towards the cloudless sky of the coast, the sun shined brighter, the polluted air smelled sweeter, and the sight of urban sprawl was as welcoming as the front porch of my parent's house after a long plane ride.

Sam and I had made it... nay, if I may be selfish for a second... I had made it back.

Things had changed... I had changed, but how, I still had no answers. 

She and I decided to take the day off on Wednesday.  We did laundry, we unpacked, we cleaned Mrs. Brisby's cage.  We were lazy, and happy to be in one place. 

The Santa Monica Pier

End of the trail.

We didn't drive to the pier on Tuesday.  It was decided that we would do that another day, a day where we could spend the time on the beach and see the sights before shops closed up and the sun went down.  Today was that day.  

My Bench.

The end of Route 66 is actually on Lincoln and Santa Monica, but over the years it has moved to the edge of the pier in order to promote tourism, so I drove Sam through the intersection of Lincoln and Santa Monica with little fanfare before we parked the car and trekked to the end of the pier.  A month ago, I began my journey here... on an empty bench, staring out at a cloudy seascape.  Today, I walked there with my sister.  The sun was shining and the water glistening. 

The Bottle Tree was the end of the journey, but the pier was the end of the trip, an end to a beginning that I only dreamt would happen.  And now it has. 

Where life goes from here... well, I guess we'll have to see.




The end of the pier.  The end of the trip.

-B-

Taken' It Easy In LA

So yesterday was spent lazing around my sister's apartment. We watched some X Files and Alien (and I use to say I hated sci-fi). We only left the apartment to get some smoothies and groceries for diner and then again later for some ice cream. We also cleaned out her rat's cage.

Today was, if not more productive than at least more active. We woke up semi-early to get to the beach and Santa Monica pier. We took the expected photos at the end of trail route 66 sign and then explored the pier a bit (well I explored at least Brianne has probably seen it a lot). Then we hopped across the hot sand and I got to spend some quality time in the Pacific. It was fun body surfing on the waves. Then we dried off and took off to go see The Dark Knight Rises. Brianne has already seen it twice but I really wanted to see it. It was epic and very long (2hr44min).

Now were back at the apartment lazing around like we deserve after such a long trip with plans for a pot luck on my last night so I can meet all my sister's friends.

SMK

A Short Break

Though it seems like we have taken a short blog break already, thanks to the Grand Canyon being without internet, today, on our first day in LA, we decided to not do a blog, just updates to the blog from days past. 

Tomorrow we will continue the exciting adventure, but today it is time to sleep and be lazy.

B.

der Grand Canyon (Blog for 8/27/12)

"There are a lot of German people here," I said to Sam as we walked through Juniper Circle, the campground we were assigned. 

She nodded to me.

"No, but, seriously, is the whole country of Germany here on vacation?" I asked.

She shrugged.  It was early, so conversation was pretty limited. 

Generally, I don't hear much of the language I chose to study in high school.  The most I hear is in World War II movies.  Once, when I was visiting New York, I heard quite a few Germans talking, and even helped a nice older German couple navigate the subway, but mostly I just hear Spanish.  Or, on this trip, French and Italian.  It amazes me how many visitors we have from all over the world, and it always makes me a little jealous, as I have only been to Canada and Mexico.

A half hour later, when we arrived at the Visitor Center, Sam made the same comment.

"Oh, wow.  Where are all the Americans? There are conversations from all over, but not many are in English."

I laughed, "Well, the Americans have to worry about school starting... er... all of America except Wisconsin."

I nudged her, and she smiled. 

"Let's go see this thing."

Yes, indeed, that is a giant canyon behind us.

We followed the crowds until we saw the canyon open up in front of us.  There are no words to describe how the Grand Canyon looks, just as there are no pictures that can show you its grandness, and no painting that can convey it's beauty.  To experience it is the only way to understand, and even then... it's hard to grasp the extensive view and all that this land formation represents.

We walked along the rim for a bit, until we were tired of the crowds, and then we made our way to the trail we picked out:  South Kaibab.

Sam, looking out at the Grand Canyon.

The description made it seem like the best option for a couple of travellers just passing through and the pamphlet that you get when you enter the park fails to note the difficulty of the trail.  Let me give you a hint... the difficulty is:  Difficult.

The hike down the canyon wall was not horrible... you know, 'cause gravity is your best friend at that point.  And the views from the path as well as Ooh Ahh Point were spectacular.  Along the way we let the mule tour pass... they left us lovely fragrant bread crumbs to help us find the way back... when you are exhausted and trying to climb back up a canyon wall, these gifts are annoying to avoid while trying to regulate your breathing. 

After arriving at Ooh Ahh Point, we talked about turning back, but decided to continue to Ceder Ridge, and the view from there was even better, which made some of the climb back up to the top of the canyon worth it... maybe all of it, but I am too tired to remember.

The Grand Canyon is massive, so massive that it is impossible to say you visited even when you accomplish a difficult hike, like the one we did.  In the end, it was only three miles of walking, but it took us four hours to complete.  Samantha, like a trooper, hiked and hiked and hiked back up, slow and steady even through the times she thought were the worst. 

I loved every minute of our hike through this beautiful monument, the views and the great respect you have for the landscape and those creatures that inhabit it, but more than that, I am incredibly proud of Sam for completing such a difficult trail with great determination and an amazing strength of will. 

When we got back to the Visitor's Center, we each bought a trailhead pin for the South Kaibab Trail as a token badge of honor.  We also decided to go watch the twenty minute film on the Grand Canyon in order to take a short nap before heading back to the campsite.

Campfire and sleep are our rewards tonight.  Tomorrow, we're back on the road.  I'm sure Gilbert is elked out.

S'more... mmmmm

The Wake Up Call (Blog entry for 8/26/12)

****Apologies for the lateness of these blogs.  The Grand Canyon has no wifi.****

 The air was crisp and the wind was still, reminding me of the first day of school.  Conveniently across the street, an abandoned school building loomed, while the group of us silently surveyed the scene.  We weren’t alone, and goosebumps popped up over my arms. 

“I… can’t…”

The words barely fell out of my mouth, and my friends silently nodded to each other.  I was led to a tarp covering a pile of dirt, to be hidden away for safety.  It was then the creature emerged.  Dead, decomposing, but still hungry, still lurking… I was shoved under the tarp, blinded but not deaf to the sounds. 

As I listened to my friends battling against the undead, the hairs on the back of my neck flew up and a chill overcame me.  A hush loomed for a split second, as my senses sharpened and then I was aware of something smelling me, nuzzling me, trying to find out what was under the…

My eyes popped open.

I am in the tent.  It’s early in the morning… and…  My shoulder is shaking violently… like Mrs. Brisby was four times bigger and needed me to move, so she was burrowing behind….

“OH MY GOD….”

 I leapt up as far as the tent would allow.

“What happened?” Sam faintly and groggily mentioned in passing before trying to fall back asleep.

“I… think… something was trying to burrow into the tent.” 

 That woke her up.

“Huh?”

 “Something tried to burrow into the tent,” I repeated while using the now activated flashlight to randomly hit my sleeping bag in and around the place I may have been shaken by, what I have now decided to be, a prairie dog. 

 We stared at my empty sleeping bag for twenty minutes, until I was too cold and Sam too tired to care about something that probably found my shoulder too inconvenient to dig through anyway. 

 This was the start of Sunday morning at the Holbrook KOA located just west of the Petrified Forest where we were planning to hike later that morning.

Despite the extremely early five in the morning wake-up call from my little rodent friend, Sam and I woke up in pretty good spirits.  The day would be full of sightseeing and end at the Grand Canyon. 

Look, Ma! There'a a petrified log behind us!

Our first stop was the Petrified Forest where we walked through the stone trees, took a gander at some beautifully formed hills that looked like painted pyramids, saw the remains of a pueblo and their rock wall comics, walked along the rim of the painted desert, toured the old Fred Harvey Inn, and finally bought ourselves some petrified wood at the gift shop.  I wasn’t able to when I toured the national park before, because they ask you to declare any petrified wood in your vehicle before you enter and when you leave the park premises.  I guess I could’ve lied, but lying to a park ranger seems like a horrible thing to do.

Sam looking out at the Painted Desert.

We ended our quick tour and short hikes around 11AM and headed toward Flagstaff by way of 66.  The eastern half of Arizona has you hopping on and off the interstate, so that’s what we did. 

I desperately wanted to go see the Jackrabbit Trading Post, because I missed visiting it last time due to an hour detour thanks to getting lost after visiting Winslow, so Sam helped navigate the way.  When we got there, they were closed.  Devastated, I took a picture of the billboard and of Sam sitting on the giant rabbit in the parking lot.  It’s no awesome bunny t-shirt, but I GUESS it will have to do.

Jackrabbit Trading Post billboard

Sam on the rabbit in front of the trading post.

The corner in Winslow.

 After that, we made our way to Winslow to stand on the corner, and to check out an AMAZING restored Harvey House called La Posada.  As much as I love listening to “Take it Easy” (btw, thanks Beth), my favorite part of Winslow is this refurbished hotel. 



Standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona... and such a fine sight to see?

The Harvey House hotels were an ingenious idea by one Fred Harvey.  He decided that the west needed a little more elegance, and he began building hotels that speckled the west.  They were located right off of the railroad tracks, either near or housing the local train station.  Here, travelers could immediately find provisions, a place to sleep, a place to eat, and all the other amenities of the east. 

La Posada

Many of the Harvey Houses are either in ruins or torn down.  Some have been saved as museums, and some like El Garces in Needles are in the middle of a restoration.  La Posada, however, is now in the hands of some very amazing people, and for the sake of time, you can read that story here. 

Needless to say, this was one of my favorite stops eastbound, and I absolutely had to share it with Sam going westbound. 

 After Winslow, we headed to Meteor Crater, one of the best examples of a large meteor crater in the world.  In all honesty… it looks like a big hole.  To pay $16.00 for limited access to a giant hole in the dirt seems a little ridiculous, but the idea behind the big hole… the spirit of education and wonder… is worth the price. 

So what you're saying is a meteor crater is behind us?  For realz?!

While taking a gander at this giant landmark from space, the sky became darker and blacker and more ominous.  This has been the way all of our days have been, and it wasn’t until that day I finally learned that Arizona has a monsoon season.  It lasts from July to August, and this piece of knowledge explained a lot of my weather troubles all month long.

The storm… or very slow moving scary clouds with very little rain… delayed us for about an hour, as I am unfamiliar with this Arizona weather phenomenon and erred on the side of safety by watching what the storm was going to do, before I decided to drive through it.  Eventually, it was moving too slowly for us to be delayed any longer, and we decided to continue on our journey with caution. 

 The rain was fairly light, and not so ominous.

We made it to Flagstaff by late afternoon, and stopped just long enough for me to grab a bottle of beer from a brewery I visited on my initial travels.  Sam made a passing comment about my beer obsession, which lead to a forty five minute lecture on the differences of beer, beer education, and beer history while we headed north to the South Rim. 

Arizona amazes me.  The varying landscapes it houses are all very beautiful, and always surprising.  One moment, you’re looking at a rocky desert, and the next, you’re watching for elk while driving through a pine forest.  The ride from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon is a trip through the mountains and elk ridden forests.  You briefly see the desert just long enough to be reminded of the arid climate the state is known for, and then you weave your way back to the pine trees until the earth opens up to the biggest canyon you have ever seen in your life. 

While driving to the campground, Sam noticed the view through a clearing in the woods and said, “… and here is the canyon.”

I glanced over, and my jaw dropped.  “Holy shit!”

She glanced back, having not actually looked at what she pointed out, and repeated me. 

Sometimes, its the really elegant phrases of the modern day vernacular that really capture a moment.

I don’t think either of us was prepared to see what we saw.  It was a grand canyon in every sense of the word:  size, beauty, and spectacle. 

Our campsite was beautiful… and (drumroll) we were finally able to build a fire for the evening, which we took advantage of by making roasted potatoes, pork chops, and s’mores while herds of elk moseyed through our site to graze. 

Ahhh… the Grand Canyon… glad to be here.