Category Archives: About Travel

Stories about travels throughout the U.S., Mexico and the Bahamas

Devil’s Tower

Back in 1977, we went on a wild and crazy ride with Roy Neary to track down the source of the subliminal messages he was receiving about a mystery place, which turned out to be a landing place for extraterrestrials at Devil’s Tower, Wyoming.  I’ve seen Close Encounters of a Third Kind a lot.  I mean, A LOT.  And that place has called to me – not as dramatically as with Roy Neary certainly – for all these years.

So, when we were headed to South Dakota for our western jaunt this summer, I knew that a little jog northwest was definitely going to happen.  Like so many destinations in that part of the country, the massive space is nothing short of awesome.  You drive and drive – through mountains, canyons, along rivers, with very little what we would call ‘civilization’ marring the scenery.  Sometimes, the vista is wide open and you can see mountains looming in the hazy distance.  So, in this case, I was searching for a glimpse of the iconic mountain that looks like a gigantic ancient tree stump.  And then, almost suddenly, there it was.

 

 

 

 
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It was almost sad to find the KOA at the foot of the mountain – however, this particular space appeared in the film as the base for the covert government operation going on at the top of the mountain.  And, when speaking to the owner of the campground, we learned that a couple of the buildings in the film are still there.  It was wonderful to be able to stay so close – and the mountain was the first thing I saw, waking up in the morning.

There is a 3 mile drive to the Visitor’s Center at the base – and a mile long hike along the perimeter.  With the exception of the people noise, it is quiet up there.  Going back at the end of the day rewarded us with very few tourists hanging around and a glorious view of Devil’s Tower being painted with the Sunset.

Motorcycles

Before I go much further about our journey, let’s turn attention to the topic of motorcycles.  Yes, that’s me – way back in Sweetwater, Tennessee at the Caverns.  It was in the parking lot and I thought it would be funny to send a photo along to Adam, telling him I’d just bought it.  He believed me.  Bless his little heart – he gives me a lot more credit for chutzpah than I actually deserve.  I will say, though, that there is a part of me that WISHES I could drive that beauty.

Little did I know that this flirtation with a motorcycle would be a foretelling of a theme in our trip.  Not long after entering South Dakota – early in August, we started to notice a lot of motorcycles on the road.  The further West we got, the more there were.  Bob mentioned that there was a BIG RALLY coming up in a town called Sturgis – and that maybe we’d drive up through the town and check it out. HAHAHAHAHA.

By the time we arrived in the Badlands, they were EVERYWHERE.  Hundreds became thousands.  When we arrived at the funky town of Wall (known to everyone in the world, apparently, as the home of Wall Drug Store), the entire Main Street was blocked off from all traffic other than MOTORCYCLES. That became the rule in every little town we visited. And along the scenic routes were churches with open doors, huge tents with BBQs, every restaurant, every bar, all with welcoming open arms the throng of bikers.

 

 

 

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At first, I thought ‘this is kind of cool’ – fun, I said.  Then, as we headed to the Black Hills, there were even more.  I learned that this Rally attracts about 1/2 million bikers.  Seriously.  So, Mount Rushmore and the scenic routes – and every campground – were packed with folks decked out in boots, leather, studs, Sturgis tees, sometimes their dogs riding in the back.  Our fanciful idea of checking out the Rally in Sturgis was soon tossed aside and we made tracks for Wyoming.

 

As we arrived in Hulett for a much anticipated visit to Devil’s Tower, we looked down into the parking lot and said, in unison, “They’re here”.  After our close encounters with them at Devil’s Tower, we pretty much left them behind as we headed for Yellowstone.

Cody, Wyoming

Well onto the other side of Big Horn – we are in a vast (seems to me, anyway!) Prairie.  LOTS of Sage Brush.  undulating hills with some cattle, goats, horses, occasional oil wells, grass.  Space – with images of mountains ahead.  We decided to stop in Cody before heading into Yellowstone.  No expectations – but then a dear friend mentioned there is this museum.  Why not? So, turns out it is a fabulous museum – the Buffalo Bill Center of the West.   It really consists of several museums under one gorgeous roof – one of the most beautiful museums I’ve ever seen. The Natural History Museum is structured in a gently rising circuitous design – with each level dedicated to the seven ecoregions found in Wyoming.

Sounds of native birds, wolves, fabulous exhibits of underground structures created by Prairie Dogs, Eagle nests, a tutorial on wildlife in this part of the world – all in an exquisitely designed structure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Art Museum boasts the great sculptors and painters of Western art, including extraordinary Native American subjects and heroes and lots of American Cowboy art.


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There is a special exhibit of the great sculptor Remington which is based on the actual studio from New Rochelle New York, where he did so much of his  best work.

We were fortunate to be here to see a visiting exhibit of Albert Bierstadt and many of his best works featuring Western themes.

There is a wing dedicated to Buffalo Bill, the Plains Indian, and Firearms.  The exhibits are glorious – but truly, the setting of this magnificent building is the master frame for the art.  Worth a day.

 

 

 

 

And after indulging in the musem, a nice walk in the beautiful city park was  in order- a lush carpet of soft green grass, a fantastic amphitheater, miniature golf, picnic tables and pavilions, all among spectacular spruce and cottonwood trees.  The City has this feeling of being loved, well tended and maintained.  Alkali and Beck  Lakes run next to the main road, one of which is a breeding ground for many birds, some migrating – including the White Pelican and Loon.  Lovely City buildings and charming homes, beautiful schools, nice restaurants, and a rodeo every night!  What a great City.

Time passes…..and now it’s August!

I had forgotten that I’d started to write about this trip – way back at Cape Canaveral at the end of June.  Here it is August 10.  So much has happened that I am hoping I can remember most of it – at least the highlights.  It might help me to go backwards!

So, here we are in a little town called Moreland, Wyoming.  We’re in a small campground for the night, on our way to Cody.  The drive from Devil’s Tower today was through Big Horn National Forest.  We climbed to 9,666 feet before the road began its steep twists and turns, plummeting to a mere 4,000 feet.  Gorgeous.  Scary.

But let’s go back to Devil’s Tower.  This was on my ‘list’. Introduced to the iconic national monument via the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind, I have felt drawn to the place ever since – over 40 years ago.  As you drive toward the location – through fields and hills – from South Dakota, you start looking for it.  And then, suddenly, there it is.

 

Alone in its magnificence.  Not an awful lot on the way – a couple of small (REALLY SMALL) towns, that’s about it.  The campground is literally at Devil’s Tower, on the sight where (in the movie) the military was stationed to protect the covert operation at the top of the Tower.  A couple of the buildings are there still – the Post Office and a long, tan building that is now the Devil’s Tower Trading Post.  We drove up the mountain – about 3 miles – to the Visitor’s Center.  It was packed with ‘tourists’, primarily motorcyclists from the annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally.  More about that later.

For those able, there is a walking path around the base of the Tower – about a mile.  I was happy just to take photos and drink in the energy of that remarkable edifice.  There are several stories about how it was formed – but I like the one about the huge bear that was trying to get to the people on the top – hence the claw-like marks all around the sides.  Why not?
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On the road up, there is a large field which is home to who knows how many Prairie Dogs.  I wasn’t content to watch them from the road; I walked down one of the paths into the field and they didn’t seem to mind.  In fact, I sat down on the ground and several of them came around to check me out.  Adorable little creatures, crafty enough to build their underground homes, replete with flood shelters – air trapped spaces where they can go in case their homes fill with water.  Smart.  They like to make their chattering little sounds and they kiss a lot.  I was smitten.

Back to the mountain.  I couldn’t make just one trip up there, so returned at sunset – and was rewarded with quiet and the colors painted on the Tower by the setting sun.  No, I did not have any encounters with kindly creatures from another galaxy.  But, I felt the energy of the space.  The spirituality of it.

It is a sacred place to local Indian Tribes and you can feel why. Perhaps endowed with some mystical qualities of its own.  Perhaps simply reflecting the adoration bestowed on it for centuries.

Either way, it is a very special place.

Road Trip

OKAY.  So,here I am – on our first day of the 2018 adventure into unchartered territory. We’re at Cape Canaveral.  It is pouring – some more.  A/C in the RV shut Alberta look at these guys levitra generika ski has spent the preceding three years investigating organic health care options. Males generally generic cialis think that they can have sex almost immediately after the intake. 2) Long-lasting effect. viagra prices The capsule contains vitamins and minerals that energy, and the endurance of the user where sometimes the dose is reduced to 25 mg pill a day. You may ask, why just not let it dry-especially check out for source buy generic viagra on that of salt water? Well, you know, buddy. down and I’m going through the manuals to try and find out ‘why’.  It’s HOT.  Boo is hiding from the thunder.  Tomorrow is a NEW DAY – let’s hope things improve.

 

Salt Lake City Utah

Mormon Tabernacle Choir

Salt Lake City may have been the scene of the Olympics a few years back, and yes the mountains and valleys are impressive.  But, for me, this stop was all about Temple Square and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir!  The Temple, Tabernacle, Conference Center and all other buildings in the Square are gorgeous, and the gardens that surround them are equally so.  This is a quiet, immaculate space, filled with flowers, water features, architecture and art that is so wonderful to experience, you find yourself not wanting to leave.

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The highlight was attending a broadcast performance of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on Sunday morning.   Emerging from the entrance to the balcony, we entered the Tabernacle just as the choir was finishing its pre-broadcast rehearsal.  The combination of sight  (the 360 person choir, full orchestra, magnificent concert hall ) and sound (the triumphant, out-of-this-world last measures of Arise, O God and Shine) and the spirit in this place completely overwhelmed me.  This was one of those few moments in life that is personal, indescribable, and utterly unforgettable.  If that is what heaven is like, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Take a Rooster to Eleuthera

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TAKE A ROOSTER TO ELEUTHERA
 
The Travel Guides talk about Harbour Island, the tiny island off the bigger island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas.  They wax eloquent about the charming Loyalist cottages, luxurious resort hotels, high end and not so high end marinas, the stunning pink beaches and beyond words blue and turquoise waters.
But.  And this is an oversight I really don’t understand.  They say NOTHING about the Roosters.  Not mentioning the Roosters is like not mentioning the Hibiscus, or the Bougainvillea, or the coral sand.  They are EVERYWHERE.  Their numbers are legion.
You and yours are having French Toast on the porch of Dunmore Deli; they trot regally under the table next to you.  You visit  the historic library shaded by giant Banyan trees; they stand guard.  While you watch the sunset over the Caribbean, they take their evening strolls.  You are enjoying a vacation read; they take a short cut across your porch.

The North Rim…….

THE NORTH RIM from “Our Bucket List Adventure” by Sherry Campbell Bechtold

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When we arrived at Jacob Lake, it was  already well into the afternoon and overcast  for the first time on our journey.  We faced a 40 mile drive to the North Rim and decided to “just go”.  We’re practically at the Grand Canyon for heaven’s sake.  Why wait another minute?
The road from the Lake to the Canyon is almost straightaway.  There are no other vehicles on the road.  There are no buildings along the way.  We drive – not in a hurry, but with purpose.  Dark clouds fill the vast sky and threaten rain – or worse.  Pine forests in the deepest green you can imagine frame the gold Aspens, bright as sunlight, opening to sweeping flaxen meadows.  It’s easy to imagine mule deer and antelope waiting in the shadows for dusk.  Somewhere along that long entrance road, we feel the world fall away behind us.  The radio is turned off and even the sounds of the truck engine fade into quiet.
In moments, we are transported into a parking lot not quite full of cars and RVs.   When we emerge from the truck, we realize the same magic Hush is outside too.  A few people chat imperceptibly and walk their barkless, well behaved dogs.  Even though there are no signs, we know where to go –  along a charming group of individual log cabins, pine trees and meandering walkways, leading to the beautiful North Rim Lodge.  Rustic.  Elegant.  A proud sentry for the North Rim.
A few steps around the Lodge and we’re on the stone patio overlooking the Canyon – indescribable, patient, bearing witness.
Miles away, on the South Rim and beyond, several rainstorms span the horizon, an occasional lightning strike connecting heaven and earth, distant thunder we can’t hear.  It takes some doing to adjust and begin to tune in to those around us.
A tour guide wearing an old cowboy hat easily entertains a few of his groupies with tales of past expeditions.  He hasn’t been home in 14 years.  Always on the road, a gypsy.  To our right, a delightful gentleman is engrossed in discussion of the Western Condor, which he has been hunting with his binoculars all day.
Tiny, fleeting life forms, we.   Destined to leave scarcely an echo in our wake.  We are blessed to be here.  In the face of this miracle, all we really have to offer is our gratitude.  Everyone seems to know that. There is a gentle comradery among us, above all there is reverence.
We learn that there is just enough time to drive to Royal Point for sunset, promised to be glorious because of the day long churning clouds.  After several miles of twists and turns on another lonely road, we find a small group of parked cars, and realize we need to get out and walk the rest of the way.  It’s so close to sunset, I’m worried I won’t get to the Point in time.  But the sights of Canyon and sky on both sides of this skywalk peninsula are intoxicating,  and I find my feet carrying me in that direction without hesitation.  I am entering into a state of Grace as I emerge from the walkway onto a stone platform.  Shafts of light cross the eastern Canyon walls, the rim brilliant against a charcoal backdrop, the plummeting depths of inner space, lost in darkness.  The western sky is a symphony of colors throwing a party with the setting Libra sun, as he whispers ‘goodnight’ and gathers the blankets around him.  
It’s almost dark when we rewind ourselves down the mountain and begin our slow drive over the plateau toward Jacob Lake through misty rain and intermittent fog.  A lone Coyote appears in our peripheral light in the meadow, and a little later, a Mule Deer catches sight of us and leaps through the tall grass toward the Aspens.  The fog clears, revealing a crystal clear night full of stars and directly in front of us, Big Dipper rests low on the horizon and is so enormous, I fancy myself walking through the meadow and reaching up to touch it.  Bliss.
 
I will live to wish I could return to this day time and time again.   And when the angels ask me to recall the thrill of them all, I will tell them I remember the North Rim.