Travel
Blimp!
We are visiting Donna’s sister and family in Florida and this morning we told them we were going for a walk. Well, we went for a WALK! Needing a couple of things and with the only place open on Turkey Day around here that would carry all of them being a CVS, off we trekked to a shopping center a little over 2-1/2 miles away. As a bonus, there is a DD nearby for mid-trip refreshments.
We were about a half a mile from their house on the return trip when I heard a distinctive buzzing sound, I knew instantly what it was, a blimp. The sound of one flying is very unique and to me unforgettable, but maybe that is because of my first experience of hearing one.
Back in my high school years the favored hang out of my friends and I was behind a junior high school just down the street from one friend’s house. There was a slight hill at the end of the big open field that served as the school’s soccer field. We would sit near the top, close to the tree line, surveying what we considered our kingdom.
Many a summer night was spent laying back on the hill consuming purloined beers and smoking cigarettes while solving the important issues of the day. One particular evening after three of us had finished off a couple of hand rolled smokes we heard this strange buzzing sound. First we each looked at each other to make sure we weren’t the only one hearing it. Then we started speculating wildly as to what it might be, there was of course the typical paranoia, but soon that changed thoughts of a possible UFO.
As the noise peaked, the stars that were bright in the sky above us started to disappear. Soon, nearly all the sky above us was black and the buzzing was deafening. We knew any minute now that we would be beamed into the space ship and be confronting little green men.
Suddenly the sky erupted into daylight as thousands of LEDs started to spell out a word – G……O……O……D……Y……E……A……R
Small Town In A Small World
While reading Google News this morning, my eye caught an interesting headline, “Ripple Effect After Fiery Crash Takes Out Only Place To Get Gas…“, so I clicked on it.
Wait a minute. That name sounds familiar. Chugwater, WY. I’ve been there! It was our first geocache find in Wyoming back in 2009 when we took a vacation out west.
Chugwater, WY – Stopped in this small town to grab a geocache. Most of all the small towns we would encounter out here had both their elevation and population listed on the “Welcome To” sign. (04/11/09)
The next closest town that the article mentions, Wheatland, where residents go to get gas was geocache #2.
Wheatland, WY – Another cache, another “Welcome To” sign (04/11/09)
We Really Almost Out Of Texas Now
We decided that it would be a big treat to stay at a hotel right at the airport. I mean right at a terminal. We’ve done this before in Hartford/Springfield and it was cool to check out and then wheel your luggage right over to airline check-in.
The only one like that at Dallas/Ft. Worth is the Grand Hyatt and it is a step up from the one at Bradley International. A BIG step up. The cost is quite a bit more and, well, everything is a bit more. Donna and I are fighting out of our weight class on this one. Like most first class hotels you have to pay for internet, this place has 3 levels of internet, $10, $15 & $25 a night; speedy to blazing fast with a Netflix log-in. There is a refrigerator in the room, but it the hotel’s robotic mini bar, pull something out and it is scanned and added to your bill. This means we can’t put anything of our own in it for fear of being charged when we take it back out.
The 3 restaurants in the hotel were too nice for us to go in dressed in jeans and hiking boots, so we ordered room service. Soup and quesadilla for Donna and a grilled chicken caesar salad for me for the equivalent of a tank of gas for the Purple Whale. Tomorrow for breakfast we will be grabbing something in the terminal…maybe even from a DD.
But, we are in a room that is very spiffy, literally leaps and bounds above the usual HIE places we stay. All the switches are thin membrane and there is a control panel on each nightstand (which is really too plebeian a word for this piece of furniture) to control all the lights, the room temperature and the shades for the floor to ceiling window. The TV is a this year’s model 42″ Samsung. There is a tub or a glass walled shower to choose for your bathing needs. We both choose shower and it has one of those rain type heads that doesn’t have a water saver restrictor plate in it. Niiice. The king bed is awesome, I bet it is worth as much as Donna and I have spent on mattresses in our lifetime. And hey, no cheap shrink-wrapped plastic cups, we have real fine glassware to drink our ice water from. I could get used to this, if I could only afford it all the time.
Walking In The Desert
Beth was feeling a little under the weather, so she and baby Susan stayed in the room, while the rest of us went for a hike this morning. A 6 mile drive on paved roads leads to a 6 mile drive on a dirt road to the trail head of the Grapevine Hills Trail. Described in the brochure as a 1 mile one way easy trail following a sandy wash through massive granite-like boulders to a low pass and at the end is an optional 100 yard walk along a ridge to see a picturesque window of boulders.
In reality, the 1 mile part was right, but that 100 yard thing turned into a 1/4 mile hands and knees scramble up the side of the valley wall. The view from the top was worth it (see photo above), but the picturesque window of boulders was literally crawling with 8th graders, about 80 of them. They were there on a field trip that the students of a private school in Austin take every year to learn geology along with math and stuff.
After lunch we were going to drive a couple miles down the road and do part of the Lost Mine Trail to get a 2 mile hike. Everyone wanted to go this time and that meant taking two cars, which Donna and I really didn’t want to do. I looked through the trail book and found a 1.6 mile loop that started right here in the lodge parking lot. The first half or so was all uphill, gaining a couple hundred feet of elevation and at this point I think there were a couple wishing that they hadn’t come. The last part was all downhill and the group stayed pretty much together for that.
After dinner plans included a 1/2 mile walk downhill to see a ranger demonstration and then maybe a walk back up.
Tomorrow we have a dawn launch for the drive to Dallas where we’ll spend the night before flying home. Scott, Beth and the kids start their drive back to Washington State via Golden, NM and Steve heads up the road a couple hundred miles to home.
We Almost Out Of Texas
This morning we all went for a couple of short walks near the lodge as we were marking time until Donna’s oldest brother Jim arrived. Jim was taking a day off from work in Dallas to come down and see everyone.
When he arrived we all piled into two cars and drove the 20 miles to the Rio Grande Village in the southeast part of the park. We had a picnic lunch and then took a short walk over to the boat ramp to actually stare off at another country, Mexico. Jim, myself, James and Madilyn tried to incite an international incident by throwing rocks at the other side. The river is only about 25 yards wide here and though several of our group landed rocks in the Mexican half of the river and I managed to strike land twice, no Federales returned fire.
While we were eating a roadrunner made a brief appearance near us, but accurately judging our maximum firing distance, or he was watching us throw stones at Mexico earlier, came no closer than 25 yards.
After our picnic we drove over to the Boquillas Canyon Overlook to gaze again at the Rio Grande and from this height some of its flood plain. At the parking area there were a half dozen or so large rocks covered in trinkets made from beads, pieces of Fool’s Gold and painted walking sticks in a sort of self-service Mexican souvenir stand. When we looked across the river, there were the artists and their horses sitting in the shade.
Prior to 9/11 there was an unofficial border crossing here. The Mexicans from the small isolated village of Boquillas, not too far from the overlook, would row American park visitors over to the other side to sell them these same type of items, before bringing them back across. Since then the crossing has been closed and Americans are not allowed to cross the border except via the official crossings a hundred miles east or west of here. I’m guessing there is a sort of understanding between the park rangers and the villagers that as long as they are not actually on American soil actively selling these items it is OK. And they let the Mexicans ride across the river in the morning to set up “shop” and then back to collect their unsold wares and proceeds each evening.