Author: Easin' Along

Helen and I reluctantly waved goodbye to our friends in Cortez early in the morning and set out for the seven-hour drive to Red Canyon RV Village in Panguitch, Utah. We took the southern route through Arizona and passed beautiful Lake Powell on the way.  I would have preferred to take the northwestern course through Moab, but there is a tunnel near Zion National Park that is too low for Dora (trailer) to negotiate. Other RVers have made that mistake, and it’s not fun.

Two years ago, we planned to visit Bryce Canyon while camping in Moab, but a snowfall changed those plans. We were grateful for a second opportunity and a chance to do some hiking. Friends told us that this National Park is a must-see. 

Panguitch is a small town about 15 miles from the entrance to Bryce Canyon National Park, and our campground was two miles closer. Red Canyon RV Village is a bit run-down and in need of some maintenance.  The RV sites are primarily dirt with a few gravels sprinkled around, and the showers, while very clean, need a do-over. Nevertheless, the staff was friendly and, at $40 per night, the price was right.  Besides, we were not planning to spend much time in the campground.  Ruby had a nice view of the mountains.

Helen and I had three full days to explore Bryce Canyon, and we hiked each day. On the first day, we drove to various lookouts in the truck, then went to the Visitor Center to pick up some maps. The theater was closed due to COVID, which was disappointing.  I always enjoy the movies offered by the National Park Service about the history of the various National Parks and the points of interest in them. A young Park Ranger greeted visitors outside the Center instead and was very helpful in pointing out the trails he would advise two Senior Citizens with a total of five joint replacements to take. He marked the paths on our map.

We left the Center to walk a portion of the Rim Trail and sample what was yet to come. The first glimpse of the red rock formations below the rim blew me away.  I walked forward but looked down most of the way. Stunning is the only word I can think of to describe the view.

On day two, we were up for a longer hike. Helen’s sister had visited Bryce a few years earlier and recommended that we take the Navajo Loop. The Park Ranger informed us that a portion of Navajo Loop was closed, but we could combine part of the Queen’s Garden Trail with the Loop and enjoy a nice hike of about three miles. If we started at Sunrise Point, we could descend 320 feet or begin at Sunset Point with a drop of 600 feet. The Ranger reminded us that going down is usually harder on knees and hips than climbing up–good advice–we started at Sunrise Point.

When we departed the Rim Trail at Sunrise Point, the temperatures were warming up, and there was not one cloud in the sky. At the bottom of the winding descent, the trail flattened out (somewhat) and led us through and around some magnificent formations. The formations, called Hoo-Doos, result from fifty million years of wind, water, and ice erosion carving through what was once an enormous crater lake. The brilliant red colors make them stand out, and they remind me of gigantic Totem Poles.

We met some delightful people on the trail and played tag with a couple from San Francisco who appeared to be about our age. Helen and I moved at our usual Easin’ Along pace while young hikers walked briskly by us. I gave my camera a workout.

Once we reached the Navajo Loop portion of the hike, the trail rose 600 feet up from the canyon floor through a series of switchbacks.  I looked at Helen with that “can we do this” stare, then inhaled deeply and took off. Taking my time and taking more pictures, I made it slowly.  Bryce Canyon sits at 8000 feet in elevation, and the air is a bit thin there. Once at the top, my gasps had to be evident to all around me.

Helen, too, took her time and made it about five minutes behind me. She said she would gladly have paid someone to carry her the last 100 feet. Since no one volunteered, she dug her hiking poles in and trod on.  At Sunset Point, we gave each other a high five and celebrated our achievement.

A visitor joined us on our third full day. Ben, the grandson of some great friends and former neighbors, graduated recently from the University of Alabama and worked now as a staff writer for a weekly newspaper. He lives about two hours north of Bryce Canyon.  Helen and I don’t recall meeting Ben in the past, but when Helen learned he lived in Utah, she told his grandmother that we would love to host him while we were in the area.  Ben loves Bryce and the outdoors and welcomed the opportunity. He arrived mid-morning in time to join us for brunch in Dora.

After spending the day with Helen and me, Ben planned to meet up with a friend in Capitol Reef National Park, an hour’s drive back to the north. With time somewhat constricted, we decided to hike to Inspiration Point, which would take about two hours, allowing for pictures and a presentation by a Park Ranger on Bryce Canyon

We had a lot of fun hiking with Ben.  He is gifted intellectually and seemed very comfortable around two people he had never met. At one point on our hike, he heard a family speaking in a foreign language.  Ben turned to greet them and then carried on a ten-minute conversation with them in fluent French. The family, from Lyon, spoke no English. I was most impressed.

We all were equally impressed with the view from Inspiration Point, which sits higher than the other viewpoints we used. Our hike required another ascent along a trail of about a mile round-trip, but we made it with no difficulty.  I suppose we were seasoned hikers by now.

Back at the parking area, we said our goodbyes to Ben and told him we would love to stay in touch. Helen sent him away with a lunch cooler filled with two fried bologna sandwiches, loaded up, along with some oranges. He will do well on whatever path he chooses in his future.

We had a great time in Bryce Canyon.  Long ago, I realized that our National Parks are the greatest gift Americans have given ourselves.  I hope to see many more of them; there is so much to learn there. After watching college-age girls and young moms race past me on the trail, I learned I need a pair of leggings. Easin’ Along will go much better, I’m sure.

When we finalized all of the plans for our RV trip, I realized that my birthday fell during our visit with some dear friends from our Army days in Germany over forty years ago. Things couldn’t have worked out better. Helen and I both looked forward to returning to Cortez, Colorado, and celebrating the big day with Paul and Dayna.

Cortez, Colorado, is in the four corners area of the state. Paul and Dayna have a lovely home and farm with a magnificent view of the Mesa Verde mountain range and the National Park. We toured the National Park and the remarkable cliff dwellings two years ago and came away impressed. We bypassed that opportunity this time, but I recommend it highly.

We arrived late in the afternoon after a long drive from Albuquerque, NM, and greeted warmly–it was great seeing them. Only my friend Paul would have a full-hookup RV site adjacent to his home, complete with water, electric, and sewer connections. We plugged in the RV and reconnected as friends.

My friend Paul is one of the greatest (and most unique) guys I have ever known. We first met in the halls of the Third Infantry Division Headquarters in 1972. He was very outgoing, and I was pleased to learn that he lived in a house next to ours in a small village outside Wurzburg, Germany. Over time, we developed a solid friendship.

Paul had and still has the energy of a ten-year-old. He attacks every challenge with great gusto. When I first met him, he was always fixing things, making things, or making things happen. Paul adores animals and has a great passion for the outdoors. He is outrageously funny, can swear with the best of them, and yet, a heart of gold beats inside that chest. I’ve never met anyone like him.

As much as Paul is rambunctious and non-stop, Dayna is gentle, sweet, and lovely, both inside and out. She spends hours gardening, raising almost anything that grows in a sizeable garden and her greenhouse. She has a passion for western art and artifacts which adorn the walls of her spotless home. Dayna loves anything with four paws.  Together, they make a wonderful couple.

For our first full day, they planned a trip to Telluride, Colorado, for us.  Helen and I grinned broadly at hearing the plan since we had heard good things about the town but had never been there. We left Cortez in mid-morning for the hour or so drive to Telluride, where we would tour the area, have lunch, and return.

Once underway, it didn’t take long to reach snow-covered ground.  Southwestern Colorado is facing drought conditions and, although this appeared to me as a lot of snow, it was nowhere enough for relief this year. Nevertheless, it was pretty to drive through.

After Paul retired from the Army, he spent several years working in the area around Telluride, overseeing the reclamation and redistribution of soil and the tailings of mineral mines prevalent in the past several decades. He took us to several projects and gave us some history of the mining industry and the work necessary to restore the area, preventing chemicals from leaching into the streams and destroying habitat.

In Telluride, I was impressed with the Victorian architecture of the homes.  I felt confident that, although the houses seemed small, they commanded steep prices. I felt the same way about the condominiums at the ski village. Thankfully, the hoards of visitors had not yet arrived, and we could move around well.  A clerk at one of the resorts told us that visitors begin arriving around Memorial Day.

We chose to have lunch at the Cornerhouse Grill. A couple of local contractors sitting at the table next to us recommended the Cheesesteak Sandwich and the Fish Tacos.  That was good enough for us.  Helen and Dayna had the tacos. I had the cheesesteak; Paul had chili.   All said their meal was delicious. On the way back to Cortez, we passed a herd of elk.  They looked as sleepy as I felt.

For our final night with our friends (that afternoon, Paul replaced a defective toilet seat in our fifth wheel), Paul grilled marinated chicken thighs, and Helen prepared cheese grits. After an excellent meal, we had a (low key) birthday party.  Birthday parties for me are usually events I avoid like the plague–never wanting to be the center of anything. My reluctance notwithstanding, I enjoyed myself immensely.

Besides the sumptuous meal, Helen and Dayna found a cake consisting of four quarters–chocolate, red velvet, carrot, and caramel. I sampled all.  Dayna gave me a “potato” cactus (Opuntia Fragillis) from her greenhouse. My challenge will be to keep it alive, but, thankfully, it is a hardy species.

After the party, Paul and Dayna helped us carry everything back to Dora. We needed to turn in early for the next day’s drive to Bryce Canyon. We hated to leave but left with good memories of a great time.  I can’t thank them enough for the hospitality, but it’s time to be Easin’ Along.  Join us next week in Bryce Canyon…awesome doesn’t begin to describe it.

Helen and I were all a-twitter about beginning our road trip to California and the Rockies. The plan was to leave very early last Friday, make the long drive to Memphis, and arrive at a decent hour. The plans of mice and men often go astray. The restrictions in our neighborhood only permit RV’s in for a maximum of twenty-four hours for loading and unloading—which is fine with me.

Helen had worked very hard before Thursday to have all the food organized for loading, and what little clothing isn’t already in Dora (trailer) was neatly folded and would go into the trailer in minutes. I drove to the facility where Dora remained between trips and touched the power button for the controls that raise the nose of the trailer to allow me to hitch it to the truck.

No power to the controller. I hooked the trailer to the battery connection on Ruby and let the truck run for about 30 minutes, thinking the batteries would charge sufficiently, and I would hook up and move on. That never happened.

I removed the batteries and took them back home, and put them on the battery charger in my garage. When I checked the batteries after two hours, they had only reached half charge. The batteries are almost brand new. I loaded the batteries back in the truck and drove to the retailer that sold them to me. They agreed that something was off-kilter, but they wanted to try charging them on their super-duper charger before they could honor the warranty.

At around 5:30 that evening, the technician agreed that the batteries were defective and needed replacing, but…he didn’t have any in stock. I pitched a fit and demanded that he find some somewhere—now. He called around to some other stores and found two at a store in a small town 30 miles away. I took off and made it to the store ten minutes before it closed. Now, I had to drive back to Dora’s storage facility, install the batteries, and pray that the controls worked. Prayers answered. I arrived home at around 7:30 and loaded my clothes, ate dinner, and hit the sack.

We finally made it out of Knoxville around 10:00 am on Friday and reached Tom Sawyer RV Park in West Memphis, Arkansas, in less than seven hours. This park sits right on the Mississippi River. After the harried events of the day before, I welcomed the soothing effect of watching towboats and barges float by while savoring a glass of fine red wine. I captured an image of a barge floating toward a brilliant sunset, putting an exclamation point on the end of day one.

We enjoyed two nights at Tom Sawyer Park. Two dear friends that I shared a house with in my college days came by to spend the afternoon with us on Saturday. Both are Memphis natives and know Memphis barbeque. They treated us to a lunch of ribs and pulled pork. We had a grand time catching up, and the events of Thursday were erased entirely by now. I owe them for that.

From West Memphis, we drove to Roland, Oklahoma, a small town near Ft. Smith, Arkansas. We discovered our campground on one of our return trips from the west. Cherokee Casino in Roland has five campsites with full hookups on a first-come-first-served basis, free of charge. Free is good, but they manage to collect in other ways. After two days, I did well in the casino, but Helen paid for our campsite. Oh well, we had fun. Roland, Oklahoma, sits in the middle of farming country, with not much else there except the casino and adjoining hotel. As soon as we set up n the campsite, five deer came to greet us. The sunrise on the first morning was stunning.

The third stop I’ll share is the campground at Tinker Air Force Base in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. The campground is nice but relatively small and is another that takes no reservations. We called ahead and learned that three spaces were open, but the manager recommended that we hurry. We made it with time to spare. This campground is a bargain at twenty dollars a night. We took advantage of the laundry facility and walked around the lovely lake for exercise. The “Tinker Turtles” were out and soaking up the sun.

Today (Thursday), we drove to Amarillo, Texas. This is a one-night stop. We will drive to Albuquerque, New Mexico Friday morning. Fifteen weeks to go…thanks for Easin’ Along with us. Please come back!