Where was I?

Oh, yeah. Prior to a brief interlude for a visit to my cousin and then meeting lots of online friends at Jamboree, I left Natural Bridges National Monument on the morning of May 25th.

The “plan” was to return to Capitol Reef and Bryce Canyon National Parks. And that is what I did. Sort of. After driving the 100 miles from Natural Bridges, through Glen Canyon, I arrived at Capitol Reef before 10 o'clock and was able to find a campsite. (It was the morning of Tuesday, May 25th.)

For whatever reason, Capitol Reef didn't do much for me. After a short rest break, I drove to the end of the scenic road and hiked one of the trails then returned to camp and read for a few hours. A short trip to the nearby town of Torrey later in the day garnered me a great hamburger and free wifi at a local restaurant!

The next morning (May 26th) I left for Bryce Canyon. The route took me through the familiar territory of the Boulder Mountains and Escalante National Monument. I stopped that night at Kodachrome Basin State Park, which was along on the way. The basin was named by National Geographic Photographers reportedly for the brilliant colors of the surrounding countryside. Although it was pretty, I was a little disappointed in the colors.

The campground in Kodachrome Basin as seen from one of the trails.

Bryce Canyon was less than a half hour from Kodachrome Basin, so I took my time getting around and arrived there at about 9:30 the next morning (May 27th). At the entrance gate I was informed that all but one of the campgrounds were fully occupied and there were only a few sites left at the one campground. That was when I realized the upcoming weekend was a holiday weekend – Memorial Day. I had completely forgotten about it. Finding an empty campsite on “normal” weekends is hard enough let alone on holidays!

I went on down to the campground that had sites available and saw just two that were empty. The entire campground was in shade, midst tall trees, which I imagine would be really nice in the middle of summer, but it was still a little on the cool side at Bryce (actually, it was cold). Plus, the sites were all very close together with little or no privacy. Most people, or so it seems, apparently aren't bothered by the lack of privacy at campgrounds. But it matters to me, a little. And, I guess, it sounds like I'm making excuses for not staying at Bryce... maybe so, but I decided to move on down the road and revisit Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park near Kanab, Utah. (If I had *really* wanted to stay at Bryce, the lack of privacy wouldn't have mattered – it didn't bother me at Death Valley or Zion! And some of the neatest people I've met was because of the lack of privacy.)

When I pulled into the entrance of Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park the “Campground Full” sign was posted. One thing I've learned during these travels is to ignore the sign and ask the attendant if the campground is actually full. Oftentimes it isn't, as was the case on this day. There were two sites available for the night, both small ones but plenty big enough for me. The park only has 23 sites and most of them are large enough for an RV with a trailer since many of the people who stay there have off-road vehicles for playing in the sand. I also asked if one of those two sites was available for the weekend and lucky for me it was!

I stayed at Coral Pink for four nights, until the morning of May 31st. I will admit that I felt just a little out of place. Most of the other sites were filled with families, which was cool. Everyone there (except me) had four-wheelers or sand buggies or off-road motorcycles, even the little kids!

However, I didn't spend a lot of time at the campground during the day. The library opened at ten o'clock on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday and the wifi was free and fast. So I spent quite a bit of time there writing and scheduling blog posts, getting caught up on email and reading other bloggers' posts, etc. Of course, I also went for walks in the dunes, drove around some of the backroads, and took a few side trips.

Mockingbird

This isn't the best photo because I took it through the window screen. This mockingbird, his mate, and three chicks have taken up residence in our back yard and like to come onto the patio to eat the bugs that the bug zapper light attaches each night. I like the fact that they come eat the bugs but the male mockingbird had apparently lived somewhere where there was a very tinny, cheep sounding windchime before he came here. And he had learned to make the noise of that windchime and used that noise to call his chicks to come eat bugs. It sounds sort of like a small, tinny, cheep bell and can be quite irritating after several hours of hearing it. Mockingbirds are known for imitating the songs of other birds, and learning to make odd noises like sqeeky gates, kids toys, barking dogs, meowing cats, and now windchimes.Also you would have thought that the mockingbirds would have got used to me watching them out the window. Oh, no. But they would let my old cat lay outside on the patio and watch them. The cat is closer to them than I am. That was fine. But me at the door or window with a camera. Never. I was finally able to get this shot through the screen and it is the best I have managed so far.And smart birds that they are, this family of mockingbirds has also learned that if they sit on that plant stand that the bird is on that they get a little of the cool air that comes through the window from the air conditioner. We have a swamp cooler and they do better if a window is cracked open. I didn't realize that I was putting the plant stand in a direct line with the window when I put it there. I haven't been able to use it for a plant as our bad winds have knocked off the ones I have tried there and I gave up and let the birds sit on it.

Happy Birthday, Dougie

For 3 weeks every year my older brother, Doug, and I are the "same" age, he being born 11 months and 8 days before I was. Growing up we always had a bit of fun with that, sometimes confusing our classmates and friends. Today (March 9th) is the day he "officially" becomes one year older than me. Happy birthday, brother.

Summer of 1951. Doug and me in front of the weeping willow tree.

Shipwrecks: The George A Kohler

There is such interesting marine history here, including the large number of shipwrecks that have happened in the waters here. We hope to explore much of this history while we are here. Ruth, a new friend that I work with, told me about one very close by. So last night we hiked to the location at low tide so we could see it up close and personal.



I sent my model out to stand in front of it to show how close to the shore it is. And right when I got to snap the picture this woman goes and stand directly in front of him/the ship blocking my shot. So I wait. And she just stands there. I wait. She stands and stares at me like maybe I'm a long lost friend or something.



I lift my camera and she turns around and then it hits her. Oh...sorry. No problem. She scoots over about half an inch, still blocking my shot. Alrighty then, we'll just move. People crack me up sometimes.

This ship is the George A. Kohler, which was a schooner that was grounded in a 1933 hurricane. This ship sat on the beach for ten years before it was burned for her iron fittings during World War II. The remains of this shipwreck has report to be seen both in the surf and on the sand.



And one shot of the gorgeous, bathed in setting sun beach. Notice how empty it is right now!

Living the life in beach paradise!

Local Birds

some of the quail that stop by everyday for a drink of water and then go on their way. You can see the one quail going through the slightly larger space in the fence that we cut for them so they don't have to squish through the smaller spaces.















A raven that stopped by to chat with my mare the other day.

Memories of an Italian Christmas

In the winter of 1989-1990, my family and I lived in Rome. It was an unstable and nomadic time. My sister and I - then aged 5 and 10 - were home schooled and spent most of our free time in the nearby park. We picked up a bit of Italian from the local children and were able to play with them. But mostly we observed.




It's funny the things we notice as children. I remember being stunned by the presence of snow and palm trees in the same landscape. I remember being upset about how ugly the road around the Coliseum was. I remember a man pushing a fruit cart outside our window every morning, singing "Arance! Mandarance!" And I remember the sight of several glamorously dressed women sitting on a park bench with their infants, breastfeeding while smoking cigarettes with a synchronised rhythmic energy. I have since been to Italy a number of times as an adult, but these childhood impressions of Rome remain prominent.





And then, of course, there was Christmas - Natale!The lavish holiday decorations, the lights, the musicians on the streets and the general festive atmosphere, served as an antidote to the stress of being in a foreign country. We were living in a small apartment, in a building full of other apartments - and between mid-December and the first week of January, there was a constant stream of gifts (mostly cakes, fruit baskets, and beautifully packaged bottles of alcohol) left outside of our door by our neighbours. These were accompanied by "Buon Natale!" notes, but no names or apartment numbers. We did not know whom to thank, or for whom to leave return gifts. When my parents asked our landlord about it, she assured them that this was normal: "They know that you are foreign and don't want you to be lonely." We were impressed and cheered by this thoughtful gesture that seemed to be such a matter of course for our neighbours. Most importantly, we felt wanted in the country, despite being strangers to it.





And I think ever since that childhood Christmas in Rome, that has been my association with Italy: feeling welcome and comfortable, despite not really belonging there. (Kind of like I feel on my Italian racing bikes, come to think of it.)I always remember Italy around Christmastime, and this year even more so - as I ride my sleek Italian beauties through the wintry landscape.





I have noticed that I tend to be most interested in bicycles whose country of origin holds significance for me. Their history is more relevant that way; they evoke warm memories. Happy holidays to everyone and happy winter cycling.

Greetings from... Maine!

Okay, so here it is Friday and I still haven't posted anything about Ohio and New York and very little on Vermont. I left Charlotte, Vermont Tuesday just after noon and arrived at my first cousins place in Belfast, Maine that night. They live just an hours drive from Acadia National Park so on Wednesday I got the "grand tour" of Acadia. You'll probably get really tired of me saying that something is "awesome" or "beautiful" but 'tis true. It was. It started out as a bright, sunny day but quickly turned overcast and cloudy. But at least we didn't get any rain!

My cousin's place overlooks a tidal river with a view out into the bay. Beautiful! (Yeah, that word again!) I'll be here a few more days but will be busy having some fun and "catching up" with my cousin (at least 15 years since we've seen each other) so don't know if I'll get anything more posted anytime soon or not. But eventually, I will. Not doing a whole lot of genealogy research either right now - just enjoying myself and Mother Nature.

Till later, Becky