Well, I think "check out" time will be around 11AM again. That's when I think I'll have the car packed up again and be ready to head out. My next real destination is Asheville, but it will take me 5 nights and 6 days drive to get there from here. 300 miles in a day is about my limit and according to Google maps the route I've chosen, using county roads again rather than highways, should allow me to keep within my limits and see a lot of small town America. First stop tonight is Kenton, Oklahoma and the Black Mesa B&B. When I called to confirm the reservation, the husband was out literally mucking the barn and couldn't take down my information. His wife later told me to be sure and have dinner before I arrive as there are NO restaurants or stores anywhere close by. I checked the weather there. It is also going to be in the high 90's. Should be interesting!
I have fallen in love with Santa Fe. I always liked it a lot. In the past I've stayed in hotels in the historic district and enjoyed the walking around. I think the preservationists and zoning czars are terrific keeping the city center unique, human scale, and beautiful. This time, however, with a house in the hills just 2 miles from the city, and with a car and friends, we have done and seen so much more. The opera, it's setting on the high plateau, a spa developed to look for all the world like the hills outside Kyoto and succeeding, the fiber arts trail with its colors and textures, and of course, the galleries, shops and restaurants in the city and its surrounding towns have each provided their own pleasures and joys. Nothing disappointed. Nothing. (Well, one restaurant wasn't as good as we expected. It was fine, but we've been eating so extraordinarily well, just good isn't good enough.) Even the weather, cool, dry air, hot sunshine, cold nights, a touch of brief rain now and again to clear the dust from the air, how perfect is that!
I didn't mention it before, but I am getting a souvenir of this trip. Julie and I went into town to walk Canyon Road, the famous art gallery district, and we got hooked by an artist in the very first gallery we entered. Each of us ended up purchasing a painting. They will be shipped to Boston. Mine should arrive a few days after I do and it is a major reason to look forward to returning home. It is a significant work of art - a major and unexpected stretch for my pocketbook, but I will soon be turning 65 so it will be my present to myself. I think, were Chip alive, he would approve.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Sante Fe
I am having trouble sleeping here. I'm not sure why; perhaps it's the altitude; perhaps it's all the stimulation. I lay in bed each night thinking about all the sights, sounds, and experiences since arriving here.
The pool is seperated into a warming pool and the lap pool and both have a cover that is easy to roll up or down to keep the water at a lovely warm temperature. There is also a hot tub that is outside, up in the garden area.
The house is well furnished and equipped with washerdryer, multiple TVs, a modern kitchen with loads of kitchenware, etc. All in all, very comfortable.
OK, that's the house. What about the people? It occured to me in the middle of one sleepless night that I haven't really introduced you to all the people here in the house, so here goes.
Any description of the people here has to begin with Sterling, my brother-in-law. He is the force behind our being here and the center of our little group. Sterling couldn't be more different from his brother (and my husband) Chip. Whereas Chip was all about sports, Sterling is all about the arts. He moved to NYC for college and stayed there ever since; and he now lives the quintessential New York lifestyle, cabbing about town, attending performances of opera, theater, or music several times each week, and getting together often with members of a close circle of friends with whom he enjoys discovering new restaurants or frequenting old favorites. More significantly, for me at least, since Chip's death in 2004, he has been a brother to me with more love and caring than I would ever have imagined. It is he who offered me the chance to come here and share his love of opera.
Sterling's partner Liam is another member of our party. He is a tall, broad shouldered and handsome man, self-effacing with a quick wit and considerate manner. He is always aware of each of us and ready to help with whatever our needs might be. There is a manner about Liam that immediately puts others at ease, feeling welcome and appreciated. He is the go-to guy in the house whenever something goes wrong or someone needs help.
These two are the humans owned by two mini-dachunds - Mae and Will. Mae, named after Sterling's Mom, is slender and full of kisses for anyone, but she never asks permission for whatever it is she wants to do. She knows her mind, thank you very much, and follows it and then asks for forgiveness, if any is needed, afterward. Will, named after Liam's Dad, is quite the opposite. He is unusual looking because of a coat the color and thickness of English clotted cream. And he uninterested in anything or anyone other than his humans. Will is the baby crying to be held, crying if one of the guys goes out of sight, crying to be cuddled. Mae will come and sleep with me at night. Will couldn't care less if he never saw me again. Together they are a striking pair continuously amusing us all.
Another long time friend of the family is Logan, a lawyer, a banker and a native American. Think of every prejudice you have against lawyers and bankers, and then think of their opposites in temperament and personality and you have Logan. He is among the most gentile and trustworthy persons I have ever had the good fortune to meet. Unfortunately, he didn't join us until late Monday and he left Thursday morning to return to NYC.
There are two other women in this house besides me. One is Ester, an Arkansas native who adopted New York 40 years ago and became a driving force behind Sterling's business success years and years ago. She has become a member of the family, with us for holidays and many special trips such as this one. Generally quiet, be careful on the topic of politics when she will become agitated, erupting with emotion over the stupidity of so many of our elected officials and their equally obtuse policies. And, unless you are quite sure of your abilities with words and strategy I warn you not to challenge this lady in a game of Scrabble. You WILL lose, I assure you.
And last, but by no means least, is Julie, an elegant and sophisticated woman I have known for over 20 years but only gotten to know over the past 2 or 3. Julie was the wife of the man who hired me into my last job. Jonathan, her husband and my boss, died suddenly and unexpectedly a few months before Chip died. I am struck now, as I get to know Julie, at how similar we are in our tastes and wonder if perhaps that factored into why Jonathan hired me way back when. Julie, like Red and like me, thinks nothing of packing her dog in her car and taking off for a 3000 mile journey across the country. Julie and I have similar tastes in literature and art and food, tho she is far better educated in all these things than I. I greatly enjoy her company and am quite pleased she wanted to come out and be with us for this week.
So we were three men ( now two ) three women and three dogs enjoying this week together.
OK, now you've got an idea of the house and the people. So, how is it we spend out time? Well, there is really no typical day, but here's an idea. We each awake sometime between 7 and 9 and slowly make our way into the common living space. Sterling or Logan will go out to see if the NY TIMES has yet arrived; Julie or I would put on a pot of coffee. The dogs would count noses. Each of us would wander into the kitchen to hunt out something appealing for breakfast - sometimes fruit and yogurt, sometimes granola, sometimes toast or a sweet bun. Ester would go to the pool and swim for 30 minutes or more. Between 10 and 11am we would begin to think about organizing the day. One day Julie, Tramp and I went for a walk in the neighborhood; another day she and the guys took all the dogs out while I worked on this. Sometimes the guys head out to the gym to work off last night's meals. Time will be spent on computers doing emails or researching festivals or events that might be interesting to take in. We might go into Santa Fe to window shop before lunch or let the dogs run on some cool grass. One day Julie and I spent an hour or more in just two shops - one with furniture and furnishings that were unusual, beautiful and oh, so tempting and another with a jewelry system where you buy semi-precious or precious stones and various settings where pieces are interchangeable and necklaces morph into rings or bracelets that can be simple or quite elaborate depending on how many pieces or parts you feel like building up, one on another. It is a brilliant design. However we'd do things, we'd generally all meet up together around noon or 1 for lunch. One day it was Mexican at the Cayote Cafe (I highly recommend this place for lunch or dinner) and we feasted on chips, smoky salsa, melted cheese, guacamole, and soups and salads. Another day we ventured further to a hamburger joint recommended by our Tucson friend and burger afficionado. (Boy does he know his burgers!) Another day the guys shopped and then put out and elaborate lunch of salads and cheeses and fruits and we sat on the patio with a friend of Sterling's from Manhatten who has been living in Taos for the past 10 years.
Most days, after lunch it's time to nap or read or otherwise relax, then before we know it we must shower and dress to go out to an early dinner and the opera. Sterling, Liam and Ester attended 3 operas. Julie and I went to two.
The Santa Fe opera festival theater is built into a high bluff. It is covered with a roof reminiscent of billowing sails. It is open on the sides. You enter at parking lot level and walk down to your seats with the stage at the bottom open at its back to the setting sun. The level of talent is remarkable - as good as you'd find anywhere in the world; and the production quality is also first rate. Julie and I saw a relatively new opera called Albert Herring which is a comedy and Madame Butterfly which had me crying throughout the entire second act. It is not an exaggeration to say it was one of the best productions of this opera that anyone in our party had ever seen - and this is a highly educated opera group. The voices, the acting, the staging all equalled Puchini's extraordinary music. After seeing that I really had no need or desire to see another opera. Nothing else could be as wonderful.
On a day when Julie and I did not have opera tickets (A show neither or us particularly wanted to see) but the rest of the group did, we took off in the late morning to travel the New Mexico fiber arts trail. We drove a loop of about 150 miles of this trail that meanders throughout New Mexico. Here's how the trail is described in it's website:
To the north, back roads beckon, weaving along river valleys,
winding through velvet mountains and red rock canyons sculpted
by time, crossing plains that stretch as far as the eye can see. The
land speaks in textures. Sage, golden chamisa, violet asters, and
grasses cover the earth in a blanket of natural hues.
And this description really does capture it. And it goes a long way in explaining why so many weavers - craftspeople and artists working in fibers - have chosen to set up their lives and their workshops in this area. First there were Pueblo Indian communities here; they were joined by Mexicans;now weavers from all over the country and possibly the world mix with the Indians and Mexicans to learn from each other and to experiment and share their love of the various fiber arts with each other and appreciative collectors and tourists. They do everything here from raising the goats and sheep, to collecting the berries and other things used for dies, to building looms and, of course, weaving rugs and clothes and art pieces to hang on walls. So, all along this beautiful roadway are workshops and home studios, yarn emporiums and galleries, schools and community centers waiting to greet the interested traveller and explain their processes and show their work. We stopped at half a dozen places, met the weavers and learned about their art and craft, and bought some examples to enjoy back in our homes or give away to family and friends this coming Christmas. It took us 8 or so hours to do this without a stop for lunch or dinner. We came back thoroughly pooped and quite happy about what we learned, what we saw, and what we purchased.
Now it is Sunday. I drove Julie to the airport in Albuquerque early this morning. She is on her way back to Boston. I will spend the rest of the day with the Sunday TImes and on this computer figuring out my route home. I think I will leave on Tuesday, but that could change. I have loved the time out here. The weather has been perfect. My days have been full of good company, good food, and high culture. Liam said to me this morning that he is ready to go home. I'm not sure I could say the same. I am glad I will have a long drive as a re-entry into my normal life and routines.
First some pictures of this house:
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| The grounds |
The house is classic adobe style with a long portal and vigas supporting all the ceilings. You enter through large wooden double doors into a good sized circular hallway. To yourright is a den and entrance to the garage. TO your left, the house stretches out long with 2 bedrooms on each end and the common rooms ( kitchen, dining room, living room) in the middle. There are two bathrooms, one on each end of the house and each with doors that open into the indoor pool area which runs the length of the back of the house.
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| The indoor warming pool and lap pool |
The house is well furnished and equipped with washerdryer, multiple TVs, a modern kitchen with loads of kitchenware, etc. All in all, very comfortable.
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| The view from the living room |
OK, that's the house. What about the people? It occured to me in the middle of one sleepless night that I haven't really introduced you to all the people here in the house, so here goes.
Any description of the people here has to begin with Sterling, my brother-in-law. He is the force behind our being here and the center of our little group. Sterling couldn't be more different from his brother (and my husband) Chip. Whereas Chip was all about sports, Sterling is all about the arts. He moved to NYC for college and stayed there ever since; and he now lives the quintessential New York lifestyle, cabbing about town, attending performances of opera, theater, or music several times each week, and getting together often with members of a close circle of friends with whom he enjoys discovering new restaurants or frequenting old favorites. More significantly, for me at least, since Chip's death in 2004, he has been a brother to me with more love and caring than I would ever have imagined. It is he who offered me the chance to come here and share his love of opera.
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| Liam in the pool |
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| Sterling and Will enjoying the warming pool |
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| Logan and Mae |
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| Ester enjoying the cool grass (!) in Santa Fe |
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| Julie outside Bobcat Bob's |
So we were three men ( now two ) three women and three dogs enjoying this week together.
OK, now you've got an idea of the house and the people. So, how is it we spend out time? Well, there is really no typical day, but here's an idea. We each awake sometime between 7 and 9 and slowly make our way into the common living space. Sterling or Logan will go out to see if the NY TIMES has yet arrived; Julie or I would put on a pot of coffee. The dogs would count noses. Each of us would wander into the kitchen to hunt out something appealing for breakfast - sometimes fruit and yogurt, sometimes granola, sometimes toast or a sweet bun. Ester would go to the pool and swim for 30 minutes or more. Between 10 and 11am we would begin to think about organizing the day. One day Julie, Tramp and I went for a walk in the neighborhood; another day she and the guys took all the dogs out while I worked on this. Sometimes the guys head out to the gym to work off last night's meals. Time will be spent on computers doing emails or researching festivals or events that might be interesting to take in. We might go into Santa Fe to window shop before lunch or let the dogs run on some cool grass. One day Julie and I spent an hour or more in just two shops - one with furniture and furnishings that were unusual, beautiful and oh, so tempting and another with a jewelry system where you buy semi-precious or precious stones and various settings where pieces are interchangeable and necklaces morph into rings or bracelets that can be simple or quite elaborate depending on how many pieces or parts you feel like building up, one on another. It is a brilliant design. However we'd do things, we'd generally all meet up together around noon or 1 for lunch. One day it was Mexican at the Cayote Cafe (I highly recommend this place for lunch or dinner) and we feasted on chips, smoky salsa, melted cheese, guacamole, and soups and salads. Another day we ventured further to a hamburger joint recommended by our Tucson friend and burger afficionado. (Boy does he know his burgers!) Another day the guys shopped and then put out and elaborate lunch of salads and cheeses and fruits and we sat on the patio with a friend of Sterling's from Manhatten who has been living in Taos for the past 10 years.
Most days, after lunch it's time to nap or read or otherwise relax, then before we know it we must shower and dress to go out to an early dinner and the opera. Sterling, Liam and Ester attended 3 operas. Julie and I went to two.
The Santa Fe opera festival theater is built into a high bluff. It is covered with a roof reminiscent of billowing sails. It is open on the sides. You enter at parking lot level and walk down to your seats with the stage at the bottom open at its back to the setting sun. The level of talent is remarkable - as good as you'd find anywhere in the world; and the production quality is also first rate. Julie and I saw a relatively new opera called Albert Herring which is a comedy and Madame Butterfly which had me crying throughout the entire second act. It is not an exaggeration to say it was one of the best productions of this opera that anyone in our party had ever seen - and this is a highly educated opera group. The voices, the acting, the staging all equalled Puchini's extraordinary music. After seeing that I really had no need or desire to see another opera. Nothing else could be as wonderful.
On a day when Julie and I did not have opera tickets (A show neither or us particularly wanted to see) but the rest of the group did, we took off in the late morning to travel the New Mexico fiber arts trail. We drove a loop of about 150 miles of this trail that meanders throughout New Mexico. Here's how the trail is described in it's website:
To the north, back roads beckon, weaving along river valleys,
winding through velvet mountains and red rock canyons sculpted
by time, crossing plains that stretch as far as the eye can see. The
land speaks in textures. Sage, golden chamisa, violet asters, and
grasses cover the earth in a blanket of natural hues.
And this description really does capture it. And it goes a long way in explaining why so many weavers - craftspeople and artists working in fibers - have chosen to set up their lives and their workshops in this area. First there were Pueblo Indian communities here; they were joined by Mexicans;now weavers from all over the country and possibly the world mix with the Indians and Mexicans to learn from each other and to experiment and share their love of the various fiber arts with each other and appreciative collectors and tourists. They do everything here from raising the goats and sheep, to collecting the berries and other things used for dies, to building looms and, of course, weaving rugs and clothes and art pieces to hang on walls. So, all along this beautiful roadway are workshops and home studios, yarn emporiums and galleries, schools and community centers waiting to greet the interested traveller and explain their processes and show their work. We stopped at half a dozen places, met the weavers and learned about their art and craft, and bought some examples to enjoy back in our homes or give away to family and friends this coming Christmas. It took us 8 or so hours to do this without a stop for lunch or dinner. We came back thoroughly pooped and quite happy about what we learned, what we saw, and what we purchased.
Now it is Sunday. I drove Julie to the airport in Albuquerque early this morning. She is on her way back to Boston. I will spend the rest of the day with the Sunday TImes and on this computer figuring out my route home. I think I will leave on Tuesday, but that could change. I have loved the time out here. The weather has been perfect. My days have been full of good company, good food, and high culture. Liam said to me this morning that he is ready to go home. I'm not sure I could say the same. I am glad I will have a long drive as a re-entry into my normal life and routines.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Geronimo - a restaurant review
It is Wednesday and we are all just waking up after a delicious evening last night. Sterling picked out our restaurants before he left NYC and booked our tables via Opentable and the place he picked for last night is called Geronimo and it is WOW! I mean it is really WOW! Now I am not a foodie and I am here in Santa Fe living for a week among 5 others who are foodies so I am really along for the ride, but did I mention that the restaurant last night was WOW! We all got 3 full courses and there wasn't one morsel of food on anyone's plate that wasn't absolutely PERFECT. We had salads and fois gras, we had steak and chicken and duck and shrimp and crabcakes. Food went flying around the circular table as each of us wanted to taste what other's were having and WOW! The tastes and textures and colors and variety were all amazing. Everything was prepared to perfection. And desserts - let me just say that Liam has been trying to find the receipe for his jasmine ice cream since he got home last night. Of course, the price was pretty amazing as well, but for once I actually think it was worth it.
I'm not sure what our plans are for today, but our first opera is this evening. It is a comedy and has a very well know soprano singing so I am looking forward to it.
Each time we go out and drive around I am struck by the beauty of the mountains, the clarity of the light, the softness of the air. I will try to capture this with my camera, but I am not hopeful. But if I can, I'll post some of them in future blogs.
I'm not sure what our plans are for today, but our first opera is this evening. It is a comedy and has a very well know soprano singing so I am looking forward to it.
Each time we go out and drive around I am struck by the beauty of the mountains, the clarity of the light, the softness of the air. I will try to capture this with my camera, but I am not hopeful. But if I can, I'll post some of them in future blogs.
Monday, August 23, 2010
A Wonderful Day in Colorado
Colorado is a magical state. I have never lived here tho I've thought about it since my first trip through the state in 1965. I have been here many times and have never not had a wonderful experience. One of the best times was when Chip and I came here for a Renaissance Weekend (remember those?) and then spent a couple of weeks driving the 4 corners of the state stopping at the white sands (amazing) and a resort so deep in the wilderness we had to helicoper in. I don't think there is a part of this state I don't like - a lot.
And yesterday was no exception. Tramp and I had a wonderful day playing with my step-son, Edward and his delightful girlfriend, Willow.
Ed and Willow were in Boulder to go to the wedding of a good friend of Ed's from his business school days. Their visit was all the better because it meant they could stay and visit with one of Ed's closest friends, Andy, who lives here. Andy is now married with three kids all under the age of 6. It was great fun watching these kids interact with Uncle Ed. I know I'm biased, but I think Ed -like his Dad - has a special gift with kids.
The wedding was Saturday afternoon and evening so we had arranged to talk by phone when we awoke on Sunday and plan our day. I woke early as has been my habit on this trip, but I didn't want to call assuming the kids had been up dancing until the wee hours of the morning. As it turned out, my assumption was completely wrong. (When will I learn??) They were back at Andy's home by 9PM and were up and ready to go by 8:30 Sunday, but of course, I didn't know. At any rate, I drove over to Andy's home around 10:30 and picked up Ed and Willow and we went out to brunch at a perfect little outdoor place not far away.
With some good food in us we took off for the sweet village of Estes Park which is at the base of the Rocky Mountain National Park. Chip and I had been to Estes Park once before when we wanted to drive up into the mountains. During that visit we did not go into the village and the memory I have of the town was the small herd of deer we saw lazily grazing on some unlucky homeowner's front lawn.
Today, Ed, Willow and I headed into the village and immediately found a lake that looked too inviting to pass up. After playing in the water with Tramp for a bit, we rented a bike that was built for two people sitting side by side to pedal together. It had a cute canopy on top and a basket in the front for a baby or two. We put Tramp in the basket, I squeezed into the middle of the seat and Ed and Willow pedalled us all around the lake - nearly 5 miles! Now, these are strong and athletic kids, but with Tramp and me there was probably 200 more pounds than that bike was meant to carry and there were some pretty steep uphill climbs on this trail. I was sure, several times, that I should get out and walk but they wouldn't let me and lo and behold they did it.
After a brief rest back on the beach, we decided the reward should be some delicious ice cream cones, and Ed wanted to go up the mountain a bit and show us the views so we went back in the car and started looking for an ice cream store in the very crowded village when we looked at the clock in the car and realized we needed to get back to Boulder if we were going to make their 6PM flight back to LA. So Ed, who was driving, turned the car around and we started back. I think he was a bit nervous that we were already getting late and mentioned we might not even have the time to stop for the ice cream when suddenly he asked a very relevant question. By the way, did I reset the car clock to Mountain time when I crossed into Colorado or could it be that the clock was actually an hour off, still on Central time? Well, of course he was right. I never reset the clock so we had an hour more than we had thought which gave us all a reason to take a breath and enjoy a very deep sigh of relief. It meant we could go by the best little ice cream shop in Boulder, fill the car with gas, get it washed and get back to visit with Andy and his family at their home for a little bit before loading up the car and driving to the airport.
It was sad for me to say goodbye to the kids. I really enjoy their company a lot. They are hard working, smart, attractive people in very sense of that word. Had I been the one pedaling that bike, I would have given up when the going got hard and walked and pushed the bike until the path got flat again. But these kids wouldn't give up. Willow, especially, motivated herself and Ed by just saying she knew they could do it. Simple as that. Like the little engine that could. And they did! And I was impressed.
I had decided to drive on to Colorado Springs after leaving them and so I started back on the road. It was a beautiful drive here - Colorado is a magnificent state and this hotel, a La Quinta, is probably the nicest one I've been in so far. The bathroom is well lit with good mirrors and when I washed up I discovered I had a nice golden glow from all the sunshine. My first tan of the season, and it is fitting it happened here. Colorado definately gives me a lglow.
Today I'm off to Santa Fe. My brother-in-law is already there and he says the house is terrific. I think I may buy my first bathing suit in 20 years.
.
And yesterday was no exception. Tramp and I had a wonderful day playing with my step-son, Edward and his delightful girlfriend, Willow.
Ed and Willow were in Boulder to go to the wedding of a good friend of Ed's from his business school days. Their visit was all the better because it meant they could stay and visit with one of Ed's closest friends, Andy, who lives here. Andy is now married with three kids all under the age of 6. It was great fun watching these kids interact with Uncle Ed. I know I'm biased, but I think Ed -like his Dad - has a special gift with kids.
The wedding was Saturday afternoon and evening so we had arranged to talk by phone when we awoke on Sunday and plan our day. I woke early as has been my habit on this trip, but I didn't want to call assuming the kids had been up dancing until the wee hours of the morning. As it turned out, my assumption was completely wrong. (When will I learn??) They were back at Andy's home by 9PM and were up and ready to go by 8:30 Sunday, but of course, I didn't know. At any rate, I drove over to Andy's home around 10:30 and picked up Ed and Willow and we went out to brunch at a perfect little outdoor place not far away.
With some good food in us we took off for the sweet village of Estes Park which is at the base of the Rocky Mountain National Park. Chip and I had been to Estes Park once before when we wanted to drive up into the mountains. During that visit we did not go into the village and the memory I have of the town was the small herd of deer we saw lazily grazing on some unlucky homeowner's front lawn.
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| Estes Park |
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| Eddie, Tramp and me on the bike. Imagine Willow in here with us! |
It was sad for me to say goodbye to the kids. I really enjoy their company a lot. They are hard working, smart, attractive people in very sense of that word. Had I been the one pedaling that bike, I would have given up when the going got hard and walked and pushed the bike until the path got flat again. But these kids wouldn't give up. Willow, especially, motivated herself and Ed by just saying she knew they could do it. Simple as that. Like the little engine that could. And they did! And I was impressed.
I had decided to drive on to Colorado Springs after leaving them and so I started back on the road. It was a beautiful drive here - Colorado is a magnificent state and this hotel, a La Quinta, is probably the nicest one I've been in so far. The bathroom is well lit with good mirrors and when I washed up I discovered I had a nice golden glow from all the sunshine. My first tan of the season, and it is fitting it happened here. Colorado definately gives me a lglow.
Today I'm off to Santa Fe. My brother-in-law is already there and he says the house is terrific. I think I may buy my first bathing suit in 20 years.
.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The Road to Boulder
I am comfortably settled into a funky arch-typical boulder hotel. Called the Boulder Outlook, it is outwardly the same as the comfort Inn or any other budget hotel I've ever been in - the room could be any motel anywhere. Except this is owned by a Boulder-minded person (in my day I think we'd call him a hippy) so it boasts a HOST who is an Ambassador of Cool who is always available to help in whatever. There is all the free stuff of every budget hotel - Internet, breakfast, refrigerator, pet friendly, poor quality towels, small bathroom, etc. but it also has room service that offers vegan and vegetarian options and sustainably farmed meats. Breakfast goes to 10, rather than 9 and the coffee is strong and sustainably farmed. It offers dry cleaning as well as the guest laundry. The pool is maintained with chlorine-free products and the whole hotel is managed on a zero waste principle - "doing its part to keep the world beautiful". And, it has, in the middle of the lobby, a recreation area for hotel quests that includes a climbing rock for adults and a smaller one for kids along with a cascading waterfall. And best of all for me, there is an in-house masseuse. Yes, that's right, here in this funky motel, there is a strong, sweet Asian woman who made herself available for me on 15 minutes notice so that I could uncreak my stiff and crooked body. I've driven over 3500 miles already and my back - which has really been quite well behaved most of the time - is beginning to complain.
Ah, heaven. After more than 60 minutes I walked out of the quiet room able to stand up straight and move easily. I only hope it will last.
The trip from Ogallala to Boulder was an easy 4 hour drive marked by gradual change. First, as we drove west and south we also drove up. The land changed from fertile plains to high desert. Climbing from 3500' up to 4500' the landscape color changed from deep green and the gleaming gold of the corn tassel to the flat, dry yellow of hay and straw. The infinate waves of corn fields mostly disappeared and hay became the ubiquitous crop and, instead of small herds of catttle grazing peacefully in the fields, hugh feedlots appeared with hundreds if not thousands of penned cattle eating from troughs and eating and eating.
The second noticeable change was that the rolling hills gave way to high, flat plateau and then, way off in the distance, mountains. In Nebraska there is horizon everywhere I looked. As far to the right and left that my peripheral vision would allow me to see, there fileds kissing sky. Then slowly, the horizon disappeared, blocked by shadowy mountains which became more and more clear, more and more detailed as I drove. And a realization came over me as I approached those mountains. As beautiful as I found the sandhills, as much as I loved the openness and vastness of the landscape, the closer I got to the mountains, the more settled and comforted I felt. I take something from the strength of the mountains that neither the ocean nor the plains with their never-ending-ness can give me. The moutains contain me. They protect me. I disappear in the vastness of the ocean or the plains. But somehow I stand tall with the mountains.
And finally, the change that became noticeable mile after mile was that I was no longer alone on the roads. People, cars and trucks started surrounding me. The county road ended. A real highway became my only option. Cars to my left or right. Cars in front. Towns that were 6 or 10 individual buildings with 60% of them closed up and dilapidated gave way to towns of block after block of contiguous structures clearly thriving. Nebraska has no people. (It does, however, have very big bugs - you should see the car...) Colorado has people.
I am back in a city now - not a city like NY or Chicago, but like Cambridge or Berkeley and, I must admit, it feels very, very good.
Ah, heaven. After more than 60 minutes I walked out of the quiet room able to stand up straight and move easily. I only hope it will last.
The trip from Ogallala to Boulder was an easy 4 hour drive marked by gradual change. First, as we drove west and south we also drove up. The land changed from fertile plains to high desert. Climbing from 3500' up to 4500' the landscape color changed from deep green and the gleaming gold of the corn tassel to the flat, dry yellow of hay and straw. The infinate waves of corn fields mostly disappeared and hay became the ubiquitous crop and, instead of small herds of catttle grazing peacefully in the fields, hugh feedlots appeared with hundreds if not thousands of penned cattle eating from troughs and eating and eating.
The second noticeable change was that the rolling hills gave way to high, flat plateau and then, way off in the distance, mountains. In Nebraska there is horizon everywhere I looked. As far to the right and left that my peripheral vision would allow me to see, there fileds kissing sky. Then slowly, the horizon disappeared, blocked by shadowy mountains which became more and more clear, more and more detailed as I drove. And a realization came over me as I approached those mountains. As beautiful as I found the sandhills, as much as I loved the openness and vastness of the landscape, the closer I got to the mountains, the more settled and comforted I felt. I take something from the strength of the mountains that neither the ocean nor the plains with their never-ending-ness can give me. The moutains contain me. They protect me. I disappear in the vastness of the ocean or the plains. But somehow I stand tall with the mountains.
And finally, the change that became noticeable mile after mile was that I was no longer alone on the roads. People, cars and trucks started surrounding me. The county road ended. A real highway became my only option. Cars to my left or right. Cars in front. Towns that were 6 or 10 individual buildings with 60% of them closed up and dilapidated gave way to towns of block after block of contiguous structures clearly thriving. Nebraska has no people. (It does, however, have very big bugs - you should see the car...) Colorado has people.
I am back in a city now - not a city like NY or Chicago, but like Cambridge or Berkeley and, I must admit, it feels very, very good.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
The surprise of Nebraska/ and the education of an East Coast snob
I am sitting in a Best Western hotel in Ogallala, Nebraska which I might have stayed in once before with Chip. I know we stayed in a Stagecoach Inn, Best Western, but I think there are several here in the West. We would have been coming down from South Dakota on our way to Colorado if we had been here. It looks and sounds familiar to me, but I cannot quite settle it in my mind. At any rate, Travelling Rose - my special travel agent - always told me that Best Westerns were generally the best of the inexpensive hotels and my experience in this trip has certainly born that out.
I really don't understand the hotel industry. In these under 100/night places (1) dogs are welcome; (2) breakfast is included; (3) wireless Internet access is free; (4) there are refrigerators and often microwaves in the room and (5) there is a guest laundry. In the fancy hotels guests get much prettier lobbies and furnishings (tho with the Marriott chain that is actually questionable) and, of course, better towels and sheets, but - if they take pets, there's a charge, Internet access has a charge, a refrigerator in the room (which I need for this medication I am taking) has a charge, forget laundry - god help us if we need something washed or ironed, and generally breakfast is absurdly expensive. I've brought my own big towel so I'm not at all sure the somewhat better mattress and more spacious lobby is really worth a couple of hundred dollars/night more!! Actually, let me restate that. I'm pretty sure it is not. (And as you know, I'm not at all adverse to luxury...)
I have totally reassessed my opinion of Nebraska now that I've driven through the state from East to West. As I said before, I had driven through parts of the state on other trips and do not remember it as anything other than flat corn fields. Nebraska is middle America in every sense. It is geographically in the middle, obviously. But I think it is in the middle by size and population as well. So, my recollection was that there was little special about the state. This trip has given me a wholly different view. I had an absolutely beautiful ride. It turns out about 25% of the state is what is called the Sandhills area and that is what I traversed yesterday. There is no single Sandhills park - at least none that I could find. Rather, it is an area - and the pastoral beauty is something special. This was one of Charles Kuralt's (remember him on Sunday Morning? Gosh, I miss him) most favorite drives and now I understand why. He thought Nebraska’s Highway 2 "one of America’s 10 most beautiful highways". Now I have to correct him. This road is most definitely NOT a highway. It is a two lane county road. But, as to the effect it has on you as you drive it? He was right on:
Like the sea the emptiness of the Sandhills gives the traveler a strange sense of comfort. Highway 2 is not just another highway that goes somewhere Highway 2 is somewhere.
I tried to take pictures that would capture the landscape - who knew there were such rolling hills in Nebraska - but my little point and shoot camera cannot capture the changes in depth that our eyes register. At least, I don't know how to make it do that. Mostly, where the plains are flattest, corn covers the earth from the road to the horizon. Where the hills overlap, it is cattle. Small herds appear as black spots dotting the bright, rich green background. And then, who would have thought it? There are beaches in Nebraska. There are small beaches along rivers good for wading and sitting on rocks dangling toes in the clear fresh waters. And there are large lakes made from damming up those rivers. These man-made lakes have sandy shores - I'm not sure how, and it looks and feels a lot like New Hampshire or Wisconsin. Amazing.
I really don't understand the hotel industry. In these under 100/night places (1) dogs are welcome; (2) breakfast is included; (3) wireless Internet access is free; (4) there are refrigerators and often microwaves in the room and (5) there is a guest laundry. In the fancy hotels guests get much prettier lobbies and furnishings (tho with the Marriott chain that is actually questionable) and, of course, better towels and sheets, but - if they take pets, there's a charge, Internet access has a charge, a refrigerator in the room (which I need for this medication I am taking) has a charge, forget laundry - god help us if we need something washed or ironed, and generally breakfast is absurdly expensive. I've brought my own big towel so I'm not at all sure the somewhat better mattress and more spacious lobby is really worth a couple of hundred dollars/night more!! Actually, let me restate that. I'm pretty sure it is not. (And as you know, I'm not at all adverse to luxury...)
I have totally reassessed my opinion of Nebraska now that I've driven through the state from East to West. As I said before, I had driven through parts of the state on other trips and do not remember it as anything other than flat corn fields. Nebraska is middle America in every sense. It is geographically in the middle, obviously. But I think it is in the middle by size and population as well. So, my recollection was that there was little special about the state. This trip has given me a wholly different view. I had an absolutely beautiful ride. It turns out about 25% of the state is what is called the Sandhills area and that is what I traversed yesterday. There is no single Sandhills park - at least none that I could find. Rather, it is an area - and the pastoral beauty is something special. This was one of Charles Kuralt's (remember him on Sunday Morning? Gosh, I miss him) most favorite drives and now I understand why. He thought Nebraska’s Highway 2 "one of America’s 10 most beautiful highways". Now I have to correct him. This road is most definitely NOT a highway. It is a two lane county road. But, as to the effect it has on you as you drive it? He was right on:
Like the sea the emptiness of the Sandhills gives the traveler a strange sense of comfort. Highway 2 is not just another highway that goes somewhere Highway 2 is somewhere.
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| This is a cow nursing her calf high up a steep hill. (Believe it or not) |
I haven't met many people, but those I have interacted with are open and friendly and seem quite content with their lives. Mostly I talked with Tina, the innkeeper of the Farwell Arms and her husband who works in insurance sales and has travelled extensively Tina told me her entire life story as we sat over coffee and could not have been more generous or concerned about me, Tramp, and our comfort. Her daughter in Grand Island just turned 40 and Tina is concerned about how liberal she has become in her political and social views and behaviors. She also told me a story of driving a long tunnel from Illinois into Maryland (a very long tunnel! ) but other than that, she is clearly a woman with dreams who - despite being 66 already - is planning on living those dreams and I admire her for that.
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| Cody Park in North Platt |
Today I drive into Boulder. I talked with Edward this morning. He and his girlfriend are already there and staying with other friends. They are all going to a wedding this afternoon and I'll meet them and spend the day with them tomorrow. There is a heat wave in Colorado this weekend - it will be sunny but in the high 90's. Clearly we will have to find a beach somewhere. No hiking in that heat.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Sioux Falls, SD to Farwell, Nebraska
I slept surprisingly well last night in this old fashioned motel off the highway in Sioux Falls and awoke quite refreshed around 7:30. Since I had promised Tramp I would take her for a walk in the park if we woke early, I got up and did my emails and packed the car. We set out for Starbucks first - I need my triple venti cap - and then for Falls Park.
The Falls of the Big Sioux River are the center of recreational and geographic activities of the city. It must be wondrous for the people who live here to have this special beauty in the heart of their city - a place to walk, to sit, to contemplate. The park is over 40 acres, tiny in comparison to the nearly 800 acres of central park in NYC, but it is a bit of magic with over 7400 galleons of water dropping over 100 feet every second.
I had to keep Tramp on a tight lead as we walked the paths along the river and falls. She was determined to find a way in the water and I was sure she'd be swept down and over the rocks if she got anywhere near. It wasn't much fun for either of us as she struggled to get free of me and I struggled to keep her on the path. Eventually we came upon a pool that was still and calm and I let her off the leash and in an instant she was swimming and smiling. That made our time in the park much more fun. We spent about an hour there and then got back into our car to head west and south into Nebraska.
I am driving county roads on this trip, avoiding the more trafficked interstate highways. These county roads are in terrific condition for the most part, almost completely devoid of traffic with the exception of the occasional farm vehicle and they have the added advantage of taking me through towns every 40 or 50 miles so that I get a better sense of how people actually live here. On the downside, they don't have rest stops or public parks nearby so that when we are ready to stop for a picnic or to stretch our backs and legs, it is more difficult to find a pretty place to do that. Despite this significant drawback, I am pleased to be driving these roads and will continue to do so as I continue in Nebraska tomorrow and then into Colorado on Saturday.
This section of Northeastern Nebraska is more rolling hills than we typically think of this state. I guess most of Nebraska is flat plateau land, but here, it is more like Minnesota with yet even bigger farms. Here I think they must measure the fields in terms of miles rather than acres. They just keep going. Mostly the fields are corn. Corn up to the proverbial elephant's eye. Corn from here to the horizon. More corn than you could ever imagine the world needing. Why do we ever produce so much corn??? Honestly.
Occasionally there is another crop besides the corn. I don't know if its soybeans or what, but it is a low and dense and dark green crop that is a beautiful contrast to the tall, wavy, and gold brown gleam of the corn in the sunshine.
I have stopped for the night at a B&B in the town of Farwell, population about 100. What this particular Victorian structure is doing in this town I do not know - it is quite out of place in this community. But it is very comfortable and Tramp and I are quite happy here. We arrived around 3 and after chatting for a while with the innkeeper, we sat on the porch, on a swing, and read enjoying the strong, warm breezes and sipping on cold, delicious well water.
After a few hours we took the camera and went for a walk. We found a small pond and Tramp went for a swim and came out black and gray. I don't know what the purpose of the pond is, but I don't think it is a swimming hole. The grasses around the pond were taller than Tramp and she had to jump rather than walk or run to get through them. It was terrific exercise for her and I think she was incredibly happy. Her genetic disposition is farm dog, and I really think she feels much more comfortable in this environment than she does in the noisy city despite spending her whole life around concrete and cars. When we got back to the inn we both went into the very large jacuzzi tub and thoroughly washed out the muck, the grasses, and the thorns. We are both sweet smelling and refreshed - and ready to curl up in bed.
Tomorrow we drive west to Ogallala, Nebraska near the Colorado border I have the distinct feeling I've been there before, perhaps with Chip. I am curious to see if it brings back any memories. I expect to cross into a very different kind of geography as we move into more desert and high plains. If I can, I will stop at the Sandhills which is supposed to be a beautiful scenic part of the landscape here.
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| There are many levels to the Falls |
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| It's a LOT of water.... |
I am driving county roads on this trip, avoiding the more trafficked interstate highways. These county roads are in terrific condition for the most part, almost completely devoid of traffic with the exception of the occasional farm vehicle and they have the added advantage of taking me through towns every 40 or 50 miles so that I get a better sense of how people actually live here. On the downside, they don't have rest stops or public parks nearby so that when we are ready to stop for a picnic or to stretch our backs and legs, it is more difficult to find a pretty place to do that. Despite this significant drawback, I am pleased to be driving these roads and will continue to do so as I continue in Nebraska tomorrow and then into Colorado on Saturday.
This section of Northeastern Nebraska is more rolling hills than we typically think of this state. I guess most of Nebraska is flat plateau land, but here, it is more like Minnesota with yet even bigger farms. Here I think they must measure the fields in terms of miles rather than acres. They just keep going. Mostly the fields are corn. Corn up to the proverbial elephant's eye. Corn from here to the horizon. More corn than you could ever imagine the world needing. Why do we ever produce so much corn??? Honestly.
Occasionally there is another crop besides the corn. I don't know if its soybeans or what, but it is a low and dense and dark green crop that is a beautiful contrast to the tall, wavy, and gold brown gleam of the corn in the sunshine.
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| The Farwell Arms |
After a few hours we took the camera and went for a walk. We found a small pond and Tramp went for a swim and came out black and gray. I don't know what the purpose of the pond is, but I don't think it is a swimming hole. The grasses around the pond were taller than Tramp and she had to jump rather than walk or run to get through them. It was terrific exercise for her and I think she was incredibly happy. Her genetic disposition is farm dog, and I really think she feels much more comfortable in this environment than she does in the noisy city despite spending her whole life around concrete and cars. When we got back to the inn we both went into the very large jacuzzi tub and thoroughly washed out the muck, the grasses, and the thorns. We are both sweet smelling and refreshed - and ready to curl up in bed.
Tomorrow we drive west to Ogallala, Nebraska near the Colorado border I have the distinct feeling I've been there before, perhaps with Chip. I am curious to see if it brings back any memories. I expect to cross into a very different kind of geography as we move into more desert and high plains. If I can, I will stop at the Sandhills which is supposed to be a beautiful scenic part of the landscape here.
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