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Published: December 12th 2006
Delicate Arch
Shelly stands beneath her favorite arch in Arches National Park, named Delicate. It used to be part of a rock wall, so its current freestanding position is truly amazing.
Arches National Park, near Moab, Utah - Port Townsend, Wash.
25,796 miles wraps up our road trip
2,097 miles this final leg At 3 p.m. Pacific Standard Time on Nov. 17, Matilda crossed into the original time zone from whence she came, and well after dark at 7:30 p.m., we crossed the state border between Idaho and Washington and were HOME!
Our road trip officially ended a few days later, on Nov. 20, when we pulled into the driveway of Jeff’s parents’ house in Coulee City, Wash. We thought the Thanksgiving holidays made a convenient endpoint for our travels. Our year-long sabbatical continues, but there'll be
no more wandering for Waltzing Matilda. We worked our way to Port Townsend a couple of weeks later over very familiar territory, and in separate vehicles, in fact.
Time to send that skeptic in North Carolina a postcard from Port Townsend to let her know we completed our 10-month road trip and still want to be married to each other! Laura, if you’re reading this, know that we not only finished, we finished just in the nick of time.
Because
less than 24 hours La Sal Mountains
The lone Arches National Park campground is near this spot, watched over by the La Sal Mountains. after we crossed the Cascades and gulped in delicious breaths of western Washington air,
real life intervened with a vengeance. My 52-year-old uncle died of a sudden heart attack on Nov. 25, sadly before we had reunited with him at a planned family gathering on Vashon Island near Seattle. The timing could only be said to be beneficial because we were there to offer emotional and logistical support to my grandparents and my mother—the executor of her brother’s will and the de facto organizer of his memorial service.
And
mercifully, we didn’t have to cut our trip short to rush home for Uncle Clark’s Dec. 3 service, which we would have done. We had the luxury of timing the end of our trip exactly as we wished.
This included introducing Jeff to the stunning geology of Arches National Park, overnights with a final round of friends and one last friend-of-a-friend host, and luxuriating in what we have to say are our favorite hot springs in the little town of Lava Hot Springs, Idaho—before arriving at Jeff’s parents’ house in time for Thanksgiving celebrations.
My Uncle Clark, a lifelong adventurer, I think would have approved of this
Sunrise in Arches
Jeff took this photo on a sunrise walk. all.
ARCHES AND MORE ARCHES
We hadn’t prepared an itinerary for Utah, but as we headed west from Grand Junction, Colo., Jeff suggested a plan that seemed totally obvious upon reflection: “Let’s go hide ourselves away in a national park for a few days,
a last wilderness fling before beelining for Washington.” The prospect of scenic hiking and getting caught up on reading, writing and sleep sounded so good, we immediately veered south toward the nearest national park:
Arches.
I’d visited Arches in 1993 and knew Jeff would fall for its sandstone formations, just as I had. It is a place that
reveals its best secrets only to the hardy, which we proved we were on a 7-mile round-trip hike through a rock wonderland called Devil’s Garden. The thrill of rounding a corner and being the only hikers face to face with a soaring and seemingly impossible arch was matched only by my frustration at tossing my daypack to Jeff over a deep pond that had swallowed the trail (and near which I didn’t want to be unbalanced as I rock-climbed around it), and the pack with my lunch and camera going over his head and landing in
Balancing Rock
One of the wonders of Arches NP, where the fantastic geology is not limited to arches! a puddle of red mud. These are the incidents that end up as stories, however, so I can’t complain too much.
Our only complaint was the deceptively sunny and warm daytime temperature in Arches that did not prepare us for below-freezing nights without an electrical hook-up. We wished, not for the first time, that we had a propane heater instead of or in addition to our electric heater. As the sun went down, we donned jackets, hats and scarves and drew Matilda’s curtains. Then we cooked a hot meal on our propane stovetop, prolonging the heat this gave off by boiling water for tea afterwards. I also mixed cold and boiling water in my hot water bottle and placed it against my belly as we snuggled under a down sleeping bag on the “couch” with our books. Jeff realized our cast-iron skillet, when heated on the stove, doubled as a foot warmer. And since it got dark so early, we were ready for lights-out around 7:30 or 8 p.m. This
accomplished our goal of catching up on sleep, at least for the two nights we endured this routine. We were impressed by the handful of ultra-hardy tenters!
The
Found Cocoon
Shelly found this tough outer husk of a moth cocoon on a desert trail. funky town of Moab, just outside the park, was where we hung out in an Internet café and worked on the previous blog entry, then attended a free showing in a church basement of the documentary “The Global Warming,” followed by “community-level discussions of climate change.” We’d seen a flier for this event, which turned out to be an interesting glimpse into
the passions and politics of this small desert community. We heard from a local gas station owner who is in the process of installing a biodiesel pump, but said his Chevron franchise is so resistant, he is thinking of switching franchises. And from a young man who is growing a private curbside recycling pick-up service, since the city refused to offer the service. $10/mo. for weekly pick-up and he provides the big blue bin. He encourages neighbors to share a bin, and therefore the monthly fee. Take hope, all of you who live in cities without recycling pick-up: it could be a small business opportunity waiting to happen.
SALT LAKE CITY & MORMONISM
We weren’t entirely clear of the Rockies; as we drove north and west to Salt Lake City, we crossed the Wasatch Range by a
Private Arch
Jeff stands atop Private Arch, accessed via the Devil's Garden hike. We WERE the only ones there! 7,500-foot pass. It’s difficult to imagine Brigham Young declaring “this is the place” for his Latter-day Saints (a.k.a. Mormons) to settle. It is a bare and harsh plain abutted by steep and snowy mountains, although the settlement was ultimately so successful that today the land is blanketed with urban sprawl. We spent a night at an RV park in Provo and dined out, marveling at the quantities of families with children out on the town. We later learned Mormons believe families are eternal, that they will be united forever in heaven, which accounts for the effort they put into family relationships here on earth.
Our tour of
Temple Square the next day was eye-opening. Salt Lake City is
the world headquarters for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and volunteers from around the globe come here for 18-month missions. Two of those “missionaries,” one from Brazil and one from Japan, led our tour. Did you know the Book of Mormon was translated from characters inscribed on "golden plates" unearthed in upstate New York in 1823? I would guess this makes Mormonism the only world religion founded on U.S. soil. With 11 million members claimed today, its influence is
Cairns Make a Trail
With many of the trails in Arches on sandstone, you need to look out for cairns that mark the path. strongest in the region surrounding the white-granite, 6-spired Salt Lake Temple. As non-believers, we were not allowed inside the temple, but we toured the Assembly Hall and the Convention Center, with its 21,000-seat auditorium and a thundering pipe organ we heard in action.
Less than a week later we had the opportunity to attend Sunday worship with a Mormon family we were visiting in eastern Washington. We discovered multiple congregations (called “wards,” and organized geographically) may share a temple and assembly hall—in this case, one ward occupied the buildings in the morning and the other in the afternoon. I was urged to wear a skirt, since all the women would be. There was no pastor leading the hour-long “sacrament meeting,” but three lay members of the church—including our hosts’ 12-year-old son—gave short talks on faith. I was most struck by the scores of babies and toddlers that were obviously encouraged to be with their families in the pews. Their inclusion extended to acceptance of their babbling, which created a dull roar in the room punctuated by chirps and shushes that reminded me of an aviary. The women, men, and children (divided by age groups) then split up for gender-based
Arches Close-up 1
Tracks in the sand. Sunday School (which we did not attend).
We have occasionally attended services for denominations we know little about, as part of our overall national education. Not including the Presbyterian service we attended in Tennessee that included our nephew’s baptism,
this brings our worship investigations to four:
* A largely African-American Catholic church in coastal Mississippi, complete with a get-to-your-feet-and-clap-along gospel choir.
* A largely Caucasian Southern Baptist mega-church in western North Carolina, complete with a sermon on adultery that was drawn to include any sex out of wedlock.
* A traditional Presbyterian service in Tennessee that included the christening of Shelly’s cousin’s baby boy, long-white gown and all.
* A hip evangelical mega-church in the largest city in Montana, complete with a rock band and multimedia presentations on huge screens.
* And now the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in a populous Mormon region of eastern Washington, complete with babbling babies and a “sermon” by our 12-year-old host!
INTO FAMILIAR TERRITORY
Heading into southeastern Idaho, we were back in familiar territory, having passed this way on a May 2005 mini-road trip. We returned to the town of Preston, where the creator and filmmaker of
Napoleon Dynamite Arches Close-up 2
Prickly pear cactus, I think. grew up, and where the film was largely shot. We’d already done the tour of movie sites, so we limited ourselves to
getting Jeff a needed haircut at The Cuttin’ Corral, an actual barbershop on the main street where Napoleon mentions offhand that he gets his hair cut. A buxom woman named Marcella gave Jeff a $7 trim, leaving it too long in the back (in my opinion), and in the process turning him into a character from the Dukes of Hazard instead of the hotshot planner/attorney he is! Fortunately, Jeff’s curls grow out quickly, so the damage is temporary.
We spent our last solo night on the road camping near a marvelous natural hot springs and soaking in the pools long after the sun went down. Considering that Lava Hot Springs is in potato country, it wasn’t surprising that we met a soaking couple who happened to be in the potato business. When I asked for their recommendation of best spud, they didn’t hesitate: “You can’t beat a Burbank russet!”
Next stop was in Nampa, next to the state capital of Boise, where longtime family friends of Shelly’s live. Kathy and Randy are the parents of Angela,
Arches Close-up 3
Windblown cluster of scrub oak leaves. Shelly’s peer whom we visited in Washington, D.C. They invited their two sons who live in the area to dinner and Arlen brought his girlfriend Lindley while Aaron brought his wife Julie, 5-year-old twins Hannah and Caitlin, and 2-year-old Alysa.
Randy has written a book, published this spring by Beacon Hill Press, called
Glimpses of Grace: Mission Stories from Bolivia. Our families overlapped in Bolivia in the mid-1980s when Randy was a Nazarene missionary and my dad was a veterinarian for
World Concern. It’s really special for me to read this book of essays about Randy’s outreach there.
One last long day of driving was the 430 miles between Nampa and the Spokane, Wash., area.
We took a road we had never traveled before: Hwy 95, which winds through beautiful terrain—starting with onion fields releasing the eye-watering odor of harvest, climbing into conifered hills wreathed in mist, and the Little Salmon River running alongside, emptying into the mighty Salmon River. This mighty river gorge, which for a stretch parallels the Snake River and Hells Canyon, stunned us with its beauty. Lying just south of the Nez Perce Indian Reservation, these lands were once part of this mighty tribe’s territory, and it is no surprise that
Colorado River
One of our favorite drives on the whole trip: Rt. 128 to Moab, Utah. It runs through this Colorado River canyon. the Indians fought so fiercely to retain them. Nor that they slaughtered U.S. Cavalry soldiers when treaty promises were not kept.
The history of interactions between North America’s inhabitants and colonizing/pioneering settlers turned out to be a powerful theme of our journey. It is impossible to travel this country and ignore the ancient influences of Indian peoples, nor the often shameful ways in which their cultures were suppressed and obliterated. All Americans should at least be cognizant of the Indian history and place names of their home region. We owe the inhabitants we replaced that much, out of respect for the societies they sustained for millennia, while we seem hell-bent on making our society unsustainable in a few centuries.
But back into this society we plowed, visiting two of Jeff’s high school classmates in the vicinity of Spokane, Wash. Mike’s family in Liberty Lake consists of five children and wife Robyn. He works in the computer software field. Coincidentally, Mike’s older brother Don, a fine art painter, was visiting as well, so Jeff got to catch up with both of them.
In Mica, Wash., classmate Don (another Don!) and his family of three children and wife Tammy
Desert Varnish
The Colorado River again and a canyon wall streaked with "desert varnish," which is actually thousands-of-years-old bacterial colonies that may represent some of the oldest living colonial life forms on earth. entertained us for a couple of days with board games, making music, movies, walks and good food. Don is a pharmaceutical salesman and it was with his family that we attended the Mormon service.
Arriving in Jeff’s childhood hometown of Coulee City (pop. 600), it was very touching to
witness the welcome-home hug of Jeff’s mother Gloria. We settled in for five days that included Thanksgiving.
The turkey dinner was shared with friends in nearby Bridgeport, whose house is situated among their apple orchard and overlooks the irrigation-tamed Columbia River. We’ve “Thanksgiving-ed” with Verle and Joann for three years in a row now, and this time my parents Bill and Ann joined us so that we could all be together after so much of the year apart. Plus, my dad and Verle are both retired veterinarians, so I knew they would enjoy meeting each other.
At dinner, we learned that three of the six couples represented at the table had met at dances (including us). We also learned that a blight is killing pear trees, and that the cherry market was oversupplied this year with mediocre fruit. Fellow orchardists and dinner guests Jennifer and Steve stay out
Shelly & Camarasaurus
Photographer Shelly HAD to have her picture taken next to the fossilized backbone of a 60-foot-long dinosaur called a -- get this -- CAMARASAURUS. of the wholesale fray and make their living selling high-quality fruit over the Internet. They take orders in advance and pick their Bing and Rainier cherries, Honeycrisp apples and Concord pears just when sugar content is highest. We have sampled their fruit and it’s amazingly good,
the best that Washington fruit can be. We’ll put in a plug for them and say if you’re looking for a unique holiday gift or treat, consider ordering from
Buckskin Orchard.
LOOSE ENDS
It was just two days later that my Uncle Clark died, a difficult and tragic day followed by a 10-year
snowstorm that halted most activity in the Puget Sound region. Jeff and I had returned to Anacortes with my dad and spent three days snowbound, not daring to drive on the icy roads. We felt a bit in limbo, but it was also nice to rest and relax. Travel is tiring, and we showed signs of exhaustion.
After Clark’s memorial service, Jeff drove Matilda straight to Port Townsend. He arrived Dec. 4 and noting that the odometer had recorded about
25,800 miles since we left town on Feb. 9. Counting our 9-day shakedown cruise in January, we can safely say
Mormon HQ
Jesus presides over the solar system in a stop on the tour of Temple Square in Salt Lake City, the headquarters of the Mormon church. we were on the road for 10 months (plus).
I’m headed to Port Townsend today (Dec. 11) after sequestering myself at my parents’ house in Anacortes for a few days to get this blog entry posted!
Our year-long “sabbatical” continues until Feb. 1, 2007, defined by the one-year lease on our house. In the interim, we have house-sitting offers for most of December and January, and of course we’ll be spending the holidays with our extended family.
I haven’t yet gotten my hands on all the journals I mailed back to Port Townsend, but when I do, I’d like to compile some trip statistics and share them with you—meaning
I’ll post one more entry before we call this travel blog complete. Hopefully we’ll have employment news to report as well.
And what does it mean to be “finished” with one stage of life? With a trip? We’re going to be figuring this out.
Until then!
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Josh, Sarah & the girls
non-member comment
welcome home!
Welcome home from your drive-about! Looking forward to some in-person supplemental story-telling. Glad to hear you made it back safe and sound, though not without some heartache along the way. (Sorry to hear about that.) Congratulations!