Path: orb!not-for-mail
From: li@kryphos.Data-IO.COM (Phyllis Rostykus)
Newsgroups: alt.kalbo
Subject: Road Trip! (5 of 5)
Date: 24 Jan 1995 04:41:17 -0000
Organization: Duchy of Wabesylvan Obspauk
Lines: 219
Message-Id: <9501240426.AA14525@kryphos.Data-IO.COM>
Xref: orb alt.kalbo:1446
Precedence: list
To: kalbo@Orb.Nashua.NH.US
Sender: kalbo-sender@Orb.Nashua.NH.US (Kalbo list maintainer)
Content-Type: text
Content-Length: 12262

31 December 1994

One of the things that I love about John is that he can pretty much 
convince me that I can do anything.  It's also a trait that I've cursed 
pretty thoroughly as well.  <grin>  Though, pretty much every time, 
after the deed was done I was pretty glad that it worked out.

This morning we woke up to an alarm at 7am.  I put on both sets of long 
underwear, my snow pants, a flannel shirt, a sweat shirt, a waterproof 
jacket, my scarf, the neon YELLOW hat that Kathy gave me, a pair of 
gloves, snow gators, and our x-try ski boots.  Lots and lots of layer, 
and lots and lots of clothing.  The nice thing about the layers was that 
we managed to stay warm.  We found out at the local ranger station that 
the overnight low was 2 degrees Fahrenheit or -16C.  Luckily, I didn't 
know that before we left... 

In the dark of the near sunrise we got our poles and skis from the Range 
Rover, crossed the highway and started skiing out to the Rim.  The sky 
lightened steadily and then turned pale pink along the eastern edges and 
powder blues across the open sky.  The trees cast black, sprawling 
shadows across the white snow.  They were all evergreens, a good number 
of them long-needled Ponderosa Pines.  No sound but the soft shooshing 
of the skis against the snow.  The super dry snow of the day before on 
top of a groomed trail, i.e. a trail that had first been run over by a 
snowmobile, so that the snow was packed tight enough to support the 
weight of the mobile and the person riding it.  So we had no problem 
with breaking through. 

The trails around Ruby's Inn were groomed by the Inn's x-try skiing 
folk, i.e. the 'Nordic Sports Center' <grin>... and they were not only 
clearly marked, but also had periodic maps along every fork in the 
trails to make sure that folks were going the right way.

We took the Rim trail, out to a Rim that wasn't part of the Bryce 
National Park, but had much of the same kinds of column formations.  By
the time we'd reached the rim, the sun had risen and painted the valley
below in glowing sandstone reds and the black of shadows.  There was also
a wind blowing over the rim, which made the vista really, really chilly.
The air was a cold, dry fire to breath, and when the sun came up I tried
to put on my sunglasses and found them rimed with ice.  We stood there
watching the sunrise and drank a Hansen's soda to replace fluids and then
headed back through the woods.

The way back was sweet.  The thing that I love most about x-try skiing is
the slow, smooth slightly downhill runs where you are just flying... where
the skies are running smooth as silk and each stride eats up yards at a
time, and the countryside is completely empty of other people, other life
and all around is just cold and snow and the stark beauty of a winter
landscape.  Real winter.  The soft crunch of snow and the clear, clean
exertion of the body.

We got back around 9:15.  Time enough to shower, have breakfast, and 
pack the car before the 11am checkout time for the Inn.  "Amazing what 
we can do if we set our mind to it." 

A quick stop at Inspiration Point to get pictures with the valley filled 
with sunshine, a stop at the ranger's station to see if there was any 
information on Navajo style rugs, and then off on the road again.  
North, into more country that couldn't really be captured with a camera, 
but I kept trying.  Further north into Utah and there were moonscapes 
next to the Mars red cliffs under misty mountains all grown over with 
wind twisted trees.  So many different looks it was impossible to catch 
it all on film.  A portion of Utah 12 runs at the top of a ridge, and to 
either side is that an mix of mountain worlds.  The dropoffs to both sides
were breathtaking in and of themselves, but having *BOTH* on either side of
the car was just insane.

As we wound through, the scenery just changed and changed drastically at
times.  As altitude and soil types changed we went from evergreen alpine
to aspen groves.  Winter Aspens look like the ghosts of trees.  Up in the
really high country there were entire forests of white aspens in untouched
snow all ghostly white and black and beautiful in such a stark way.  And it
all contrasted with mountain ranges that looked like they were from the
heart of the sun.

The snow blizzarded furiously to the west of us, completely veiling the 
mountains just to the left of us.  We managed to skirt the edge of it, 
getting a few white flakes, but that was all.  As John said, "We got 
snow without getting stuck in it!"  Hurrah.  Throughout the trip we were
always on the edge of rainstorms or snowstorms, all of them moving in only
after we'd left, following close, but not too close on our diesel exhaust.

One stop we did was at the ruins of an Anaskasi Indians pueblo and all 
the artifacts that they'd found at the village.  Lots of precursors to 
the things that were more recently used by the Navajo, Hopi and more 
local native tribes.  It was fun to wander through and read about.

More driving later we reached Salt Lake City at 5:30 and found a rush on 
the local hotels; but we managed to get a room.  Seems that on New 
Year's Eve everyone was out for a night on the town.  After settling 
into our room, which was a lot of fun, actually, as it had a 
refrigerator, HUGE towels, fifteen different size and firmness of 
pillows, two sinks, *and* a phone in the bathroom, we tried to find 
dinner.  Three restaurants with nearly 2 hour waiting periods later, we 
ended up back at the hotel looking at a line of about 25 people waiting 
to get into the dining room.  So back to the room and a call to room 
service later and we got a really solid dinner from a very friendly 
waiter, complete privacy *and* the Baylor-Washington State game.  <grin>  
Perfect. 

I then got ready for bed and napped as John watched _Amadeus_.  I have 
to admit that I had problems sleeping through the various music pieces, 
Don Giovanni and especially the Requiem at the end.  Since I didn't have 
my glasses on, however, I was able to just keep my eyes closed and 
listen and then fall back asleep.  John managed to start waking me up 
about ten minutes before the recorded ball fell, an hour earlier than I 
was used to because we were in the Mountain Time Zone, in the recorded 
Times Square.  I know that I fell asleep again before the count down, but 
work up clearly and completely for the final count down and watched the 
Square light up.

That's when the explosions started.  Fireworks, actually, but they were 
really, really close and people in the hotel started screaming and 
hollering and whooping as we quietly turned off the lights and went to 
sleep.  The sounds didn't continue for all that much longer and we slept 
pretty soundly.

--------
January 1, 1995

It turned out that Salt Lake City was having it's second annual New 
Year's Party in Downtown that year.  Fireworks were provided by the city 
and the party was supposed to be for the whole town, there were an 
estimated 50,000 people *in* town specifically for the party.  No wonder 
it was so crowded.  

We didn't wake up until 9am, and John showered while I slept a little 
more, and then he went out to get us breakfast at the local McDonald's 
while I showered.  While I was in the shower a maid crept into the room 
to try and make it up, but I shoo'ed her off while I was wet and 
dripping.  A second one tried when I was towelling off, and even with 
the sign out, a third tried while I was trying to dress.  The third lady 
got an eyeful and I guess that was enough for her to get the message out 
to everyone else to LEAVE US ALONE... which was right when John walked 
into the room.  <grin>  He was kinda surprised at how mad I looked when 
he used his key to get into the room.

An explanation and a good laugh later, we had a late breakfast in front 
of the first NFL playoff game today.  New England lost horribly to 
Cleveland, and we left before the game was even over.  We also took the 
one pop we had left in the tiny refrigerator over night.

Down the road again... The mountains around Salt Lake City would have 
impressed us on any other day.  They were tall and majestic and broad 
based, snow-capped, and.. well... brown.  After all the amazing vistas 
we'd just seen, these mountains were kinda boring.  North and north 
and every north and then west a lot.  <grin>

Then John tried to open the pop.  It sprayed everywhere and then froze 
solid in the can.  We finally figured out that we'd left it in the 
*freezer* overnight... and it had gotten super cold, but the pressure had 
kept it from solidifying... until John had opened it.  Yipe.

There were just two things as exciting all the way from there to 
Pendleton, Oregon.  One was the night sky.  We decided to keep pushing 
after dark and I remembered, again, how wonderful night driving was as 
the stars came out in the sky.  Out in the middle of Idaho there were no 
lights, and the stars were as thick as cream up in the black sky.  

The other was that just east and south of Pendleton.  There was a 
mountain range, and going up it was just fine, coming down, though, was 
fog.  Thick fog.  Thick enough to slow me down to about 35 mph until a 
pick up passed me going about 50 and the fog seemed to thin before its 
determination, and so I just followed it.  Luckily, there was only about 
three or four miles of the fog, and then we were in the clear, now under 
overcast skies and into Pendleton.

Another Motel 8, this time with our extra blanket and pillow as well as 
the last of the Nebraska-Miami game.  A small restaurant near there had 
good marionberry pie and cranberry cheesecake and a fairly good decaf 
coffee, so we sat and talked and ate and talked some more.

----------
January 2, 1995

We woke fairly early, got up, had some breakfast and then went to the 
Pendleton Mill and looked through cloth remnants and discontinued 
merchandise.  There were also 'factory direct' clothing sales and John 
got a very nice plaid wool shirt in blue and black.  We also spent about 
half and hour going through all the Indian style blankets, looking at 
the designs and color schemes.

Pendleton blankets are thickly woven of 100% new wool.  They are brushed 
in hot soapy water to felt them thickly so that no wind can get through 
and then cropped for a lush finish that makes the blankets soft against 
the skin.  They have had a long tradition of making 'Indian Trading 
Robes and Blankets' and their blankets were prized for their workmanship 
as well as their emulation of patterns popular to the tribes that traded 
with them.  it's funny, but a rather scholarly book about the patterns 
of the old trading blankets had not only the traditional patterns that 
the American Indians made but also a substantial section on the patterns 
done by the Pendleton Mills.

We got one of the blankets at about half the usual price because it was 
of a color scheme that was discontinued at the mill.

As we were making our purchases the clerk lady asked us which way we 
were going and when we said north and west, she commented that it was 
clear that way, though there might be some rain but no snow or ice, 
there was always rain on the way to Seattle, she said <grin>.  John 
asked the obvious question, which was where was there snow and ice?

Turned out that the mountain that we'd run into a little fog in was 
snowed in, now, and the cloud cover was so thick people were having 
problems getting through.  The road straight west was fine, but south... 
she shook her head.  So it turned out pretty good that we'd pushed on 
all the way through to Pendleton the night before.  And we continue with 
our streak of not having been caught by a pass because of snow.

We crossed the Columbia fairly quickly and into the dry, sunny, desert 
browns of Eastern Washington.  Kinda boring, all in all... luckily John 
was driving so I could write and nap.  It was perfectly sunny all the 
way through Eastern Washington.  We stopped in Yakima to look for 
Grant's Brew Pub and found it, but it was closed for the new year's 
holiday on the 2nd.  And it was only two and a half hours back to 
Seattle through rolling brown hills.

A quiet ending to a long, fun vacation.