OH TRUMPY, WHY YOU DIS MEXICO SO BAD? IT IS AWESOME!

We are just back from perhaps the best four-day vacation we have ever taken.  It began with a flight from SLC to LA, and then to stunningly rugged and beautiful Loreto, Baja California, Mexico, on the Gulf of California. Our plans did not call for a stay, but we may go back -- the views flying in told of secret, isolated beaches, surrounded by mighty cliffs, with fantastic sunrises and some of the bluest seas you will ever see. We had other plans this time, however, and so at the airport, we rented a shiny red jeep (with full, and I mean FULL, insurance coverage) --

 and drove across Baja to the Pacific, and a sleepy little town called Puerto San Carlos on Magdalena Bay.  Our real destination was an Eco Camp on Isla Magdalena, one of three islands along the Pacific that creates the magnificent Mag Bay, winter home to California Gray Whales, known for their fearless friendliness.  We had signed up with Magdalena Bay Whales, (link here:  http://www.magdalenabaywhales.com/_index.php ) and Captain Marco, its young, friendly jefe, who speaks English with ease, and is a delight to talk with.

There is only one paved street in San Carlos, and the Hotel Villas Isabella, where we were to meet Marco, is not on it.  Many dirt streets, strayish dogs (63, to be exact -- the kids counted) and a few chickens later, we found it, near the shores of Magdalena Bay, where the shrimp boats put in every evening, for a full night's work.

There Marco introduced us to Martin, who would be our most able captain for the next two days, and we learned that he and his boat, the Keiko I would be at our service for the entire time.

What a happy circumstance that turned out to be. After locking our car inside the hotel's protected parking, we jumped in the Kieko I, and headed off to our destination: Isla Magdalena, across the magnificent and huge Magdalena Bay.

As you will soon see, birds were everywhere, including the Brown Pelicans catching Alden's attention here, and were reflective of the abundant marine life in the Bay.

Martin's true self shows through here. Happy, easy going, comfortable with his boat and on the water, excellent whale-whisperer, and just a great host all the way around.

By the way, this is the hot babe in the distance of the opening photo. Have I mentioned that I love my wife? She put this trip together, and is all around awesome.

We arrived at the Eco Camp with its 6 to 8 tents on level, wooden platforms, each of which had cots, blankets, sheets and pillows inside. The great palapa below, where we were to eat for the next two days, is a fantastic gathering place, to talk all things whale with other guests and captains.

It had electricity at night, and two restrooms with flush toilets (that mostly worked), along with running water, and all the soft drinks and bottled water you could want (and Cerveza too).  Most important of all, it had Christina and her crew (Christina is in the center below)

who would prepare fresh seafood, brought from the bay right next to us, at almost any time we asked. The Camarones Diabola (Devil Shrimp) was absolutely killer, as were her breakfast Chilaquiles.  I still think about both of those dishes all the time, and the kids think about her cinnamon hot chocolate even more than that. After one of those great meals and a decent night's rest, we woke the next morning to this:

and knew it was going to be a good day.

After a hearty breakfast in the palapa, we headed out into a sunny day for our first whale watching excursion.  Fortunately, we had been advised to bring jackets, and long pants, and we needed them! It was cool on the water.

After a fairly short ride across a very smooth Magdalena Bay toward Isla Santa Margarita, and as we approached the opening to the Pacific which divides her from Isla Magdalena, we began to see this:

It was then that Martin did his magic, carefully approaching, stopping where he thought the whales would come up next, and letting them decide if they wanted to come close or not.  Never once, in the two days we spent with him did we feel like he was chasing or harrassing whales in any way. He was always very careful to let them make the choice about how close to come. Soon enough, that magic turned to this:

There we were, amidst all these whales, engine off, silence interrupted only by lapping waves and gull-cries, and then the transformative sound of giants exhaling from massive lungs.  It was just phenomenal.  And of course, their were the tales:

There was even a friendly sea lion that came out to watch us watching them:

If we had stopped there, it would have been worth it. But of course, Martin was determined to give us a show, so south we went, along the eastern coast of Isla Santa Margarita.  Along the way, we witnessed an old partnership -- dolphins and brown pelicans, working a mass of sardines -- one from below, the other from above.

 I really love watching brown pelicans fly, they are so graceful and efficient in flight, but to watch them dive is to see the fighter planes they really are inside.

As we approached the great sand peninsula that juts out from mainland Baja about half way down Isla Santa Margarita, we were greeted by more pelicans, and by the whitest sand you can imagine, in dunes running along the Bay.

It was on this long jaunt south that I realized just how happy Keegan was -- in his element, loving the wind, the water and wildlife, never uttering the word "bored" even once.  Then there was this:

Keegan:  Hey guys, why don't seagulls like to fly over bays?
Us:          (After a few lame guesses) I don't know, why?
Keegan:  Because then they would be Bay gulls (get it, Bagels?).

I laughed so hard.  His creative juices were rolling. It did my heart so much good to see him so HAPPY.

But I digress. We were greeted not just by Pelicans and dunes, but also by these guys:

This was the only mother and calf pair we saw. That is a seriously newborn whale there, she was tiny by comparison!

Bulls jostling around a female whale.

And paying no attention to our boat whatsoever.

Until this guy showed up, spy-hoping all around us. Those barnacles look like they hurt!

 The close encounters continued throughout the early afternoon.

It was during this stretch that Alden coined the term "Salty Rainbows" for the whale exhale (or whale snot, depending on your level of sophistication) that bathed us from time to time. He could be heard to shout "Incoming! Salty Rainbows!" as we sailed right through it.

That was not enough, however, to keep us from getting close enough to see bubbles on their backs as they surfaced.

 How much of their time was spent. I love this picture of my boys. When we decided to turn for home at the Eco Camp, Martin let each of the kids take a turn driving the boat, much to their delight.

Now if I could just get Kate this interested in driving her car . . .

Don't think I will have that problem with Keegan.

Or Alden for that matter.  He actually hit the throttle as soon as he got behind the wheel.

It was a long boat ride back, but everyone was happy, and it was not without interest.  Martin took us past a yellowfin tuna fish farm, where his uncle works.

And introduced us to the ubiquitous (at least around here) Frigate Bird.

They really are remarkable fliers.  Don't know if that forked tail has anything to do with it, but it certainly makes them unique, looking like swallows on mega-steroids.

Once we arrived back in camp, the time was spent sea-kayaking, paddleboarding, beach walking, and just reading good books, until dinner time. It was fantastic.

Alden was in full trireme charging/ramming mode almost immediately.  That boy was born for battleships.

Keegan really started to get the hang of it, and I think he had fun.

Kate always loves paddleboards.  (But she was no match for the sea kayaking of Alden.)  The beach walk she took with me, however, was amazing. So many shells, skeletons, and signs of sea life, all along it, including this turtle shell, washed up on shore.

The skeletons collected included a sea horse, which I can't seem to see here, but I know is there somewhere.  Plant life around the camp also showed some signs of spring and beauty.

The shells we collected were so varied and colorful. Really amazing.

I love the symmetry of shells, and marvel at how it happens.

This isn't really the half of it, and does not do it justice. But it shows some of the color, which is so fun to see. Speaking of color, sunsets were amazing.

And so ended our first full day on Magdelena Bay.

The next morning dawned ugly as usual (NOT--that is a Caracara on the nest there, by the way) and after a great breakfast of Chilaquiles we headed out to the channel opening between Isla Santa Magdalena and Isla Santa Margarita, which looks like this:

and soon we started seeing this:

Which became this:

And then, THIS happened:

He spy hopped within a foot of the boat.  If you look close, you can see that a whale has whiskers. Yep, that close.

He played around the boat, as close as he (or she, maybe female whales have whiskers too!) for a full five minutes, showing no fear, only curiosity. And then THIS:

YEP.  My kids have touched a wild whale, who seemed to really want and invite it. AMAZING. In Keegan's words: "BEST.VACATION. EVER!"  I told him that he will probably go through his whole life, and never find another person who has touched a whale in the wild. Truly one of the most unique, wonderful and remarkable moments I have ever witnessed or experienced.

For those who may wonder at the ethics of the moment, though, I want to make clear, at no time did I ever feel we were chasing or harassing a whale.  First, there were no other boats around -- we were alone. Second, Martin was very careful -- he would head in the direction of the whales, place himself ahead of them where he thought they would come up, and then sit idle in that spot.  In all cases, every time, they came to us.  And in this one's case, he really came to us, and I swear, wanted to communicate.  It was a magical, peaceful, quiet moment. And when he was done, we let him go -- no chasing, no following, no desperate attempt to maintain the experience.  The entire encounter was on his terms.  I really have to commend Magdalena Bay Whales and Martin in particular. I saw enough to know that this is the way they operate, an ethic of respect that they maintain.  Just wonderful.

Later in the day, the same thing happened when another boat was in the area (this was rare for us, most of the time we were alone).  I post a couple of those pics just to show how big these guys are compared to the boats.

I am quite sure we were all more nervous than the whales were.  We spent the balance of the morning seeing things like this:

And the amazing coast and rookeries there as well:

Before heading back to the Eco Camp for lunch and a family photo.

I'm starting to think you actually could get swallowed by a whale, at least based on the size of this skull bone.  In any event, our day couldn't get better, but it did continue to be fantastic. In the afternoon, Martin took us out to the dunes, which were also just awesome, one of the more beautiful places we have been.  Here are a few pics:

From there, we headed to the Hotel Isabella in Puerto San Carlos, for hot showers, a nice night in a bed, and then a long drive and flight back home.  But we will never forget Magdalena Bay.  It is magical.

Sad News and Hard Weeks

Two weeks ago (October 17), I received a text that I never wanted to read -- a dear friend, Marilyn Jager, had passed away on her birthday, at age 53, from liver cancer that had been discovered a mere six weeks before. It would be wrong to have this blog (neglected though it may be) and not post about it.  Here is what I said on Facebook that day:

"No words can ever convey how deeply grateful I am and always will be for my friendship of forty years with Marilyn Jager, or how distraught and heartbroken I am that it will not continue for another forty. She passed away today, on her 53rd birthday. She was kind, funny, incredibly intelligent, wise, positive, loving and uncannily calm and even in the face of every circumstance. A truly remarkable woman, who leaves a hole even Texas would call massive. I will miss her so very much. A sad, sad day in Baileyville today. Paul Jager, our deepest prayers are for you and your sweet, wonderful children."

I was and still am depressed by the news.  The Jagers are our fast friends -- our last trip in California, in Big Sur, we took with them (photo above), and have faithfully visited them about once a year since leaving.  Paul called the day after she passed and asked me if I would speak at her funeral in Mission Viejo, along with another dear friend, Paul White. A huge honor, for sure, but also an incredibly daunting task, one that comes with the deep weight of needing to do the very, very best you can to honor your friend.

I was overwhelmed and still deeply sad, but I immediately began to receive small tender mercies in the four days that followed. They buoyed me up, and helped me tremendously.  A friend at work brought a huge gift basket to me, filled with Diet Cokes and other delectables, for no real reason (he had no idea of the news I had received).  My nephew, on a mission to the same area of Peru I served in 35 years earlier, found by amazing circumstance Alfredo Maza Salinas, someone I love and whom I had baptized all those years ago.  They posted it to facebook, for me to see. It made my heart glad for the first time since that dreaded text.  Keegan spent an afternoon cheerfully doing chores, including many he does not have to do, because he knew I had been having a hard time. The following morning, another dear friend, Fred Greener, called for no reason. His wife Gaylene was in the car with him. She also has liver cancer, but has, through no small miracle, been able to live for more than two years after her diagnosis. (Marilyn's liver cancer was discovered a mere 6 weeks before she passed, with no prior symptoms.)  I was able to tell Fred and Gaylene how grateful I was that they had had so much time together--it made for a nice moment of highlighting blessings in the face of adversity. Small things all, but each seemed to say that someone was trying to help.

When the time for speaking came, there were over 800 people present to honor Marilyn, filling a stake center all the way back to the stage.  It was a real tribute to her.  She touched so many people, members of our faith and non-members alike.  It was impossible to capture what she meant to all those people, but here was my effort:

Talk At Funeral For Marilyn Jager

Good morning everyone, my name is Brett Bailey, and a lot of you probably don’t know me.  But I want to say it is such an honor and privilege to be with so many wonderful people, the colleagues, friends, ward members and family of someone I hold so dear.

A friend of mine once told me that men don’t cry, but their eyeballs can sweat something fierce. Today I am about to demonstrate that I have really sweaty eyeballs to a lot of people that I have just barely met. I hope you can forgive me that, but when you speak from deep in your heart, tears follow, and that is as it should be.

I have known Marilyn for a very long time, since we were about Clare’s age. That is almost 40 years. We became close as members of the Bountiful high school debate team.  My first indelible memory of Marilyn is from a team trip to Phoenix Arizona for a tournament.  We were packed into a school bus and proceeded to drive all through the night from Bountiful Utah, just north of Salt Lake City, to Phoenix.  At about 3:00 am, somewhere around the Grand Canyon, there was Marilyn, wearing sunglasses and dancing up and down the aisle, with a full sized boom box on her shoulder that was blaring AC/DC’s Highway to Hell.  I am pretty sure the poor Bus Driver couldn’t have agreed more at that point.  I don’t know if that is how any of you think of Marilyn, but truthfully, that is still how I picture her at times.  There was never a dull moment when Marilyn was around.

Thinking about Mar this week, I read through our senior yearbook, and found a note from her, telling me that we should be law partners, because when my arguments inevitably failed she could win the case on her looks alone.  She quickly followed that with “of course I don’t really need looks to win any case, but it is a nice finishing touch.”

She always wanted to be a lawyer.  I remember a long conversation a few years ago after she helped win a case.  She gave me a blow-by-blow recount of her devastating cross-examination.  It made her so happy. She was living the dream she’d held as a 17-year-old high-school kid, and you could tell it was such a great thing for her.  Paul tells me that the week before last she actually spent some of her time filling out time sheets. You know she loved being a lawyer if she was willing to fill out time sheets under those circumstances.

That may seem like a really odd thing to do, but it also tells you a lot about her. She finished what she started, and did not like to leave things undone.  She was honorable, a hard worker, and loyal to her partners. Morris, Polich and Purdy was lucky to have her.  And she was a fighter.  She had this quiet, but seriously intense competitive streak and was determined not to lose. No way was she ever going to give a single ounce of concession to cancer.  She was going back to work. Period.

And she had so many other great qualities. She loved life and the people in it.  Kim and Paula told me yesterday that when they came down to visit a couple of weeks ago, she insisted they go to the beach, because they were from Utah, and you just can’t come to California from Utah without going to the beach.  She went with them, even though she could barely walk. That was vintage Marilyn, wanting to make sure that everyone experienced life to the fullest and had a good time.  She was just so positive about things, always looking forward with optimism and interest.  She was so kind, so funny, incredibly intelligent, engaging, loving and uncannily calm in the face of every circumstance.  The only exception I ever saw to that calm quality was if she was hungry and you stood between her and something with a really yummy sauce. Then you were done for.

But there are two qualities I think of most when I think of Marilyn. The first is that she was just such a great friend.  To know Marilyn was to always be welcome in her home, to be given all the time she had, and to have great conversation, usually over food and full of love and laughter and interesting and engaging things.  It was such a joy to be with her.

The second quality is how dedicated she was to family, and how much she loved being a mom. Nothing was more important to her, and it was her greatest joy. Whenever we talked, the subject always turned to her family.  After many years of such conversations, I think I have some idea of couple of things she would want me to tell you today. This might be the sweaty eyeball part.

To Lauren, you should know that you were the apple of her eye. She would light up like a tree at Christmas whenever she talked about you. You could hear it in her voice, and see it in her eyes. You were the light of her life. Please, don’t ever forget how you made your mom feel. You were and are her little miracle.  That makes you very special.

Clare, you are amazing, and your mom knew it. You have all of her considerable talents and then some.  She would call me and just marvel at how driven you were, how smart, how kind and how strong.  You are a chip off her block without question.  But I want you to know, without a shadow of a doubt, she would love you every bit as much if you weren’t any of those things.  You could never disappoint your mother.  She wants nothing more than for you to live your life in a way that makes you happy and fills you with joy. She loves you so very much.

Cole, you changed your mom’s life.  Sometime after you were born, we were chatting and I remember her saying that being a parent was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.  There is just no explaining to anyone who hasn’t been through it what it is like to hold your first child, but I think it is the most profound experience you can have on this planet. She shared that experience with you. There is a bond there unlike any other. You of all her kids inherited her love of life, you are just like her that way. She was and is so very proud of you.

Paul, I simply can’t picture her without you. You helped her live her dreams in a way that no one else could have. You have been selfless, devoted, supporting and loving in a way that very few people can. You gave her such a huge gift, letting her be herself and giving her the freedom to pursue her dreams. You were and are her perfect partner.

I know it is a time of tremendous sadness for all of us. The magnitude of losing Marilyn so young is so great and so hard to bear. Undoubtedly, there will be many days of sadness to come.  But I also hope, in the days to come, that we can all think about how, of all the people in the world, this amazing person was our friend, or daughter, or sibling, or wife or mother.   In this crazy world of billions of people, and that can be so full of sad circumstance, how lucky is that?  Can you think of a greater blessing?  I can’t.  I am so grateful to have had Marilyn in my life.

One of the Apostles in our Church, Elder Russell M. Nelson, said that the only way to take the sadness out of death is to take the love out of life, and that mourning is our deepest expression of love. As you feel sad in the days ahead, I hope you can remember that it just shows that there was and is a deep and beautiful love in your family. That is a really special thing to have.

There is a scripture in Psalms that Dr. Martin Luther King used to cite, which says: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalms 30:5) Right now, it is the heart of the night.  But I promise that there will be joy in the morning, one morning, some day.

Among all her many qualities, Marilyn had one that I haven’t mentioned yet: a deep and abiding faith in Jesus Christ. I think that was her most important quality of all – it made her into the person she was and continues to be.  You can’t understand Marilyn or why she had the qualities she did without knowing about her faith. She believed in Jesus Christ, and believed that this is His Church, led and guided by Him.  That belief was fundamental to her life, to who she was and the qualities she had.

The Prophet Isaiah promised that Heavenly Father would send a Messiah, whom we believe to be Jesus Christ, “to bind up the brokenhearted, *** to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (Isaiah 61:1, 3.)  When Christ was on the earth, to a grieving Martha, who had just lost her brother, he declared: “I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”  (John 11:25-26)

I want all of you, but especially Marilyn’s family, to know that I have a personal testimony, born from very sacred experiences, that we have a loving Father in Heaven who watches over us, and that Jesus Christ is His Son.  I know that if you will turn to the Lord, and trust in him, you will find strength you never thought you had, and you will come to know that the world is full of angels, including the very many good, kind, caring and wonderful people here.  Paul has told me, that he never would have survived without the help he has received from his ward. Thank you for taking such good care of my dear friends.

I want Cole, Clare, Lauren and Paul to know, that the Lord will extend tender mercies to you when you are sad, and that if you will look for them, you will come to know that you have a loving Savior, and a Father in Heaven.  None of that will ever truly make up for losing Marilyn at this completely wrong time. There is just nothing that could ever make up for being without Mar.  But it will help, and one day, there will be a very joyous morning, when, as Isaiah promises,  “death will be swallowed up in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.” (Isaiah 25:8). I know that we will see our dear Marilyn again, and that we can be together as families for all eternity. Of this I testify, in the sacred and holy name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

I am really going to miss you until that day, Mar.

So Whatever Happened to 2016 Anyway?

Sadly, it has been a pretty blog-free year here at the Flying Baileys.  I don't know what happened to keep me away, but it did.  I must be getting to that age where this is a normal thing, just wondering where the time went as I stare with vacant eyes and a little drool running from the corner of my mouth.  It feels that way, anyway.  In an effort to fight the inevitable, though, I thought I would post a few entries to try and catch up on our year-to-date.

We spent a fair bit of free time in January and February doing something I love deeply -- skiing. Alden loves it too, though the rest of the family, particularly Keegan, have yet to make it a passion. Once we actually get there, however, it is so beautiful, I quickly forget all the gear and effort and complaint-hearing it takes to get out of the door.  I mean, how can you not love something like this?:

Here is some proof that they at least smiled once while they were there:

Keegs is still a work in progress on the whole skiing thing, though he does like playing in and around the snow at our house, so I continue to hold out hope even though he says he hates skiing.   I can't wait to go again this winter.

When we aren't skiing in the winter months around here, Kath works hard to make sure we have a lot of culture in our lives. We find a lot of plays to attend, from Hale theatre, to Capitol Theater musicals (as I type this, the kids are helping clean the kitchen and singing Newsies at the top of their lungs), to our local Rogers Memorial Theater, to plays the kids are actually in, like Alden as Sven in Frozen this past February.

Here he is with his cute friends C. (the tall one in the middle, who will listen to stories about battleships forever, which is a key component to any interaction with Alden), and L.  Keegan and Alden also love putting on their annual Chinese new year program, which always happens in late January or early February. (Alden also loves nothing more than a good photo-bomb.)

We also support Kate in her piano recitals and concert choir shows, which is where the whole Newsies thing began to catch on.  She even had a solo in the choir performance, which she pulled off with great style in front of hundreds of people. Brave girl!

Probably as a nod to my side of the equation, she tries not to make it all high brow.  We also visited the aquarium here in town, complete with penguins - as I said, a nod to my side. :-)

Above all, though, we try to spend time with family, which was certainly a prime reason for our move back from the Bay area.  We try to see our Moon relatives at least once a month, and it is always a load of fun, as these photos from last halloween and Jared and Francesca's wedding attest.

They are great people to be around, and it is amazing the bond that exists between cousins.  All in all, we do manage to have some fun when we aren't about our daily grind.

In late February we went hiking on Antelope Island, with the weather being so much warmer than normal for this time of year. Every time we come out here, we wonder why we don't do it more often.
It is a playground of sedimentary and igneous rock, and the views are always stunning.

 The best part about going in February is that there are no bugs, which can be a real problem starting in late April and continuing through the summer.

Kevin and Angela's dog, Mushu, came along for the hike and seemed to be in heaven. We all really love that dog, he is just such a great dog (at least once you get past the snoring as he sleeps).

Family photo on the back (west( side of the island. It was a beautiful evening, as the sunset below attests.

Our next 2016 adventure is to a little visited part of Utah -- Vernal. Post to follow.

Moab Weekend

We took a spur of the moment getaway last weekend to Moab, landing at one of our favorite spots: Red Cliff Lodge.  The lodge itself is fine, not great, but . . . location, location location!  Up the Colorado river from Moab along route 128, our room opened to a deck just yards from the river. Here are a couple of photos.

 From our deck.

 At the hotel restaurant for breakfast.

The hotel sits near Castle Valley, an aptly named area of sandstone cliffs and pillars at the base of the LaSal mountains.  We arrived late Friday, road bikes in tow (I know, I know -- you're thinking road bikes in Moab?  We are just a bit contrarian sometimes . . . ). After breakfast Saturday morning, we headed south down the 191 to route 211, a 16 mile paved road into Canyonlands National Park, and a spot called Needles Overlook.

The route had a surprising amount of climb and drop across beautiful high desert plateaus. It was also about 92 degrees -- hot for mid-September, but the ride out was worth it.  I had forgotten just how stunning Canyonlands National Park can be, but Needles Overlook, 16 miles in, reminded me what happens when God turns to sculpture to pass the time. So remarkable. (More on that later).

But first, for fun, can you tell me what happens when an FOM (fat old man) bikes 32 miles up and down hills for three or so hours?  (HINT:  It is NOT pretty.)   I began to cramp up a couple miles from the car, and only got there by virtue of some well-timed down hills. Thinking how badly I needed a Gatorade, I hopped in the driver seat and started for the main road, believing I had made it through the worst. Then it happened . . .

I sneezed.  Which promptly caused my previously non-existent abdominal muscles to cramp into a tiny little ball.  Which caused my always stressed back muscles to seize up from top to bottom. Which caused my shoulders to seize up, which caused my arm to seize up, which caused my quads finally to seize up completely.  Not only couldn't I move, I couldn't breathe.  All this while our car is careening down the road.   Who knew that a little sneeze would set off a chain of events that would turn me into a purple faced human pretzel?  I looked like Wiley Coyote after the road runner gets done with him.  Kathleen kept saying "it'll pass, just drive." I could barely draw enough breath to say "no it won't."

Luckily, I somehow managed to spasm on the break pedal. At which point I opened the driver door, and fell out.   After a long, breathless stretch and some ginger walking to loosen up, I managed to get back into the car and not die.  Miracle in the Desert, is all I can say.  Powerade never tasted so good.

Now back to more superlative things, as in Canyonlands.  The next day, we took a short but truly incredible hike to Grand View Point in the Islands in the Sky section of the Park.  Photos:

The drop behind me is several hundred feet.  Good thing those legs weren't cramping up then . . .

Not bad for a guy who would rather die by fire than by falling, no?  The jump back across actually scared me a bit, but then, I had barely recovered from the bike ride, and even a small leap was questionable.

No matter how many pictures we took, there was just nothing that could really show the scale.  I love this place. It is as unique and beautiful as you will find anywhere in the world, and every time I come, I wonder why I don't spend more time exploring it. Next time, though, the camelback is getting filled with Gatorade.

Shakespeare 2016

We just returned from the Cedar City Shakespeare-fest, which we’ve hit for the sixth year running, I think. How I love this little place, and the spectacular quality of its actors and their productions. This year we came with Grandma and Grandpa B, saw a new theater, and a rendition of Much Ado About Nothing that had me in tears I laughed so hard. We also saw King Henry V, with its iconic St. Crispin’s day speech, as well as the Three Musketeers (Keegan’s favorite – he knew the story by heart even before we came), and the incomparable Julius Caeser. Is there a play with more memorable lines? I think not. The evidence:

 Quotes from Julius Caesar

 “Beware the ides of March.”

 “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves,”

 “It was Greek to me.”

 “He will never follow any thing That other men begin.”

 “Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.”

 “Et Tu, Brutus?”

 “I am constant as the northern star,”

 “Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;”

 “If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: --Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.”

 “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.”

 “The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones;”

 “When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:”

 “O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason.”

 “If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.”

 “This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;”

 “Even so great men great losses should endure.”

 “There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.”

 I think I can rest my case there. What a work of art it is.

 Not to mention that Brutus quandary over the fate of republican Rome amidst crowds that don’t appreciate their freedoms, and want a strong man king, feels quite timely. Shakespeare captured the eternal issues of man like no one I know. What a great thing to be alive 400 years later and still hear and see his work, as it was meant to be seen. We live in such a great place.