Durango - Silverton

A week ago Wednesday we headed out for a long vacation weekend. The original plan had been Mesa Verde, Hovenweep, and Canyons of the Ancients National Parks/Monuments, but the idiots in Congress and the White House decided to shut those down, poor foreign tourists notwithstanding.

They had not reopened them as we left town, which necessitated some flexibility on our part.  We decided to try a long-held desire of Kathleen's: taking the narrow gauge rail road from Durango to Silverton, Colorado.

All I can say is that we really made great lemonade out of those government idiot lemons.  Durango itself is nothing special. It wants to be Moab, but it is not even in the same ballpark.  That said, the ride to Silverton is spectacular, and the means of getting there is something really special.

I know of no sound more evocative than the piston-puff-pounding, track click-clacking of these old engines.

Together with their haunting, reed-hollow whistle echoing off canyon walls, they say "West" like nothing else, before or since.

It is the sound of freedom and rebirth, danger and the unknown, hard work and  spectacular achievement all rolled into one.

And the smell -- of coal burning.  I could not stick my head out the window without heavy bits of ash coating my hair, but there is something about that smell that says warmth and home for me. When I grew up, we lived in a small house, high up the foothills of the Wasatch range, with only a dirt road connecting us to the city below. There was no natural gas, and our home was heated by a coal furnace. Though I was younger than six, I remember going to the store with my dad to buy coal in big brown bags, then hauling it to the basement, where he pulled out the slag using "klinkers" (my word, I think), and put more coal in to burn.  Maybe it is my Sheffield heritage, but I still love that smell, potential toxins be danged.

The kids, particularly Keegan, loved the experience, even though we never topped 25 miles an hour.  Something about the sway of the car, the freedom to walk up and down the isles, and, ok, I admit it, free use of dad's ipad during the six-hour round trip, made it a great experience for them.

Kate didn't need an ipad to keep her busy -- her writing journal, while perhaps a bit squiggily, helped her pass hours on end.  Unfortunately, that also meant occasionally missing scenes like these -- Colorado at its finest.

The town of Silverton, our destination, is a gem, very true to its mining outpost roots.  It has the feel of isolation and loneliness, even though "the million dollar highway" (really, a two lane road) now runs right through it.  We had a fine meal there, which the kids still remember, and wandered around, seeing the old buildings and ducking into a curio shop or two. Here are some pics:

Our dining spot was in full Halloween mode.  We tried to count all the spiders and skeletons, but I am sure we missed a few.

Kate was very excited to see the Grand Imperial Hotel, apparently the scene of one of her (four hundred or  so) favorite books.

Exactly the type of cab you would expect to see here.  Almost wanted to miss the train back to see what this baby could do.

Silverton City Hall.  There was silver everywhere -- ceilings, radiators, you name it. They take their name seriously, I guess.

So there you have the first non-driving day of our long UEA weekend. We took the three hour train ride back, and by the time we had arrived in Durango, the idiots in Congress had decided to open the parks again. Only sane decision they have made during the entire tenure since the election, in my view.  Next up, Mesa Verde and Hovenweep.

Found It, or at Least, Some of It

Tonight after work I hit the road into the national forest behind my house, to see if I could find a little bit of fall still clinging to the trees.  I think I finally found some . . .

While it may not seem too colorful (the trees are very drought stressed), the moment itself was amazing.  As I took these, I was alone in cool, crisp fall air, surrounded by silence (hardly another soul in sight), at least until a lone coyote began howling at the moon.  I sat for 40 minutes or so, snapping a way, and listening to a lonely song dog pour out his soul to the wild.  You just don't get that every day.

I capped it off with a grand, sunset view of the Great  Salt Lake,  

And a crescent moon over city lights.

Not bad for driving a mere 20 minutes from my home.  

Looking for Color in All the Wrong Seasons

Fall here has been a sad affair.  The past summer was so hot and dry, and snowfall last year so light, that all the leaves have gone straight to brown this year, trees stressed far beyond any ability to produce the reds, yellows and oranges I so love.  It has left me hungry for color. So I have gone looking for it in all the wrong seasons, namely spring, and found it, in this photo of the Soapstone basin.

Barely an hour and a half from our house, and only 20 minutes from Park City, in a good, wet year this place is a magical carpet of flowery color, easily accessible by car.  It may be all of the color I get for a while, as winter seems poised to come.   Not sure how much of this man-made global warming thing I believe, and think maybe global cooling could be worse (Ice Age, anyone?), but I will be praying for snow, snow, snow, from this point until about next May.

Why Bountiful Is Best

I may have posted these before, I can't recall, but thought I would just say that I love living where I do. A two minute drive from my house gives you these, which reminds me on a regular basis that God exists and really likes us quite a bit. Lucky us.

Shakespeare 2013

We headed to Cedar City last weekend for a quick (down on Friday, back late Sunday) trip to catch the closing weekend at the Shakespeare Festival.  Our treat this year was King John, one of the history plays that is hard to catch live anywhere, on Friday night, and then Love's Labor Lost and the Tempest on Saturday.  

We arrived in the city just in time to eat dinner and then head straight to the play. In true Shakespeare fashion, it deals with deeper themes, such as legitimacy and how the lack of it creates insecurities, resulting in decisions of precarious consequence.  How can you not love such stuff? I for one do love the Festival. The plays bring all that eloquence to life in such a real and humorous way, and I admire the dedication of the actors and their tremendous skill at something so difficult. Such a treat to have it in this beautiful part of our state. 

The boys, not being Shakespeare aficionados at this point, didn't go to any of the plays, but happily, the Festival has a daycare facility set up in a house across the street, ready for all ages with PlayStations, TV's, family friendly movies, and tons of toys, and good secure sign in and out systems.  We picked them up after King John, and carried them off to the Crystal Inn, which I believe is the nicest place to stay in Cedar City (and I am not just saying that because the CEO of my company owns it, really I am not.)  As we drove up, I explained to my kids who Crystal was (my "boss") and that she and her husband owned the hotel.  When we walked into the family suite, which had a large screen TV and two couch beds, Keegan exclaimed, "Wow, this place is awesome!"

Later, he said, "Dad, I would like to meet your boss one day." 

"Why do you want to do that, Keegan?" 

"Oh, just to see what she's like, and to tell her I like her hotels."  

Then he walked off with his brother, and I overheard him saying, "Alden, Dad's boss owns this place, and she's a GIRL!"  I laughed so hard. 

It has rained down south a lot over the last few weeks, and Saturday was no exception--overcast and cold, with rain threatening.  If you think that would deter Keegan from swimming in the outdoor pool at 9:30 am, and dragging his not-as-enthusiastic-as-he-should-have-been father along with him, you would be VERY wrong.  That kid is a fish. I was too cold to get a non-blurry picture, so I'll have to leave it to your imagination. 

It rained during the afternoon and evening performances, and I learned that you want row G or higher in their Globe mock up theater, so you can stay out of the rain. In some way, though, it just added to the middle ages feel of the thing, and became part of the experience. Kate loved both plays, but the Tempest was the clear winner over Love's Labor Lost (as it should have been).

The rain also made for beautiful driving on Sunday.  We first headed out to the west desert, a place called Parowan gap, to see some of the 5000 ancient (and some not so ancient) pictographs carved there. Here are a few pics:

Some are thousands of years old, others maybe not so much, and the debate rages as to which is which, but it is an impressive place nonetheless.

(Keegan insisted on the photo of the lizard.)  Afterwards, we drove the 143 to Brianhead, where Kathleen and I honeymooned all those years ago.  Along the way we took a side road up to Yankee Meadows, a beautiful place at the top of an amazing side canyon. The rain was coming down in sheets, too much for photography, but the next time we are back in Cedar we may head here for some day hiking up out of the usual heat.  We headed over to Cedar Breaks National monument, and caught just enough of a break in the rain to head out to the main overlook. Here are some pics:

One of the nice benefits of rain is that it brings out so much of the color. We had only a few moments before the rain closed in again, and obscured the view.

From there we headed over to Bryce, so we could visit my niece, Taylor, who was working at Ruby's Inn over the weekend. She and her husband are juggling school in Cedar City at SUU, working up at Bryce over the weekend, and managing a new baby, Titan born shortly after Ryan and Hannie's baby Darrell, (Dare). They are scrambled but seem to be holding it together pretty well. Very proud of them and all their hard work.

The other side benefit was that we drove beautiful Red Canyon, the entrance to Bryce from the west. We found out what it looks like when it rains in the desert, that is for sure. Here are the pics:

 From there, we drove over to Antimony, on a splendid two lane back road that runs along a high plateau near Bryce. It yielded the picture that opened this post, and will make for a great bike ride the next time we visit the National Park.  Here is a closing photo from that road, much like the opening one, but so pretty I thought it worth posting.

Three Shakespeare plays, swimming outside in the rain, 5000 year old Petroglyphs, a national monument, Red Canyon, a visit with my niece, and traveling down a backroad we had never seen before, and which was beautiful. Not bad for a quick weekend!

Biggest Rainbow Ever?

This morning, I woke up and saw that it had been raining overnight.  There is no more amazing smell on the planet than Utah after an August rainstorm.  It is one of my favorite things, so I headed out the door and was greeted by the sight above.  I immediately busted for the hills to do a quick hike, bush-wacking straight up the mountain side near my house. Look at what I found:

I think it may be the biggest rainbow I have ever seen, arching over my home town, with its end planted at Big West's North Salt Lake refinery, of all things. Given our past few weeks with my poor dad, it was a nice reminder that God sends comfort when needed.  Maybe feeling a little of what Noah felt. The rainbow soon faded to this:

But I continued hiking up the hillside, which was a workout and provided its own beauty:

and left me with this last view, of my little town Bountiful:

Not a bad way to start the day.  Still praying for Dad, who is always on my mind, but maybe with a little more faith today. Grateful.