Cedar City October 6^th

It has been another pretty dreary day. The rain finally stopped at about 3.00 but that was too late to get anywhere near Bryce Canyon. I have finished a book. I have done a couple of crosswords from the compilation book given to me by Wellington Common Room. I browsed in a second hand bookshop. I took some video of Cedar City in the rain. I watched some baseball, in which Roy somebody-or-other achieved a no-hit perfect pitching performance for the Phillies. About which I have as much clue as the average American would about bowling a string of maidens in succession.

Now that the weather has cleared a bit, I think I am going to get up early tomorrow and make an attempt to get to the Grand Canyon. If it doesn’t work out, I can bypass it given the route I have in mind. It just seems a shame to be within 150 miles of it and not to give it a go.

There are two bars in Cedar City, population around 12,000 people. I visited one last night and met Scotty and Matt. Scotty was born on Islay and came over with his parents in 1950. He moved to California and came to Cedar City via Las Vegas. As you do. He still owns the house that belonged to his parents on Islay. He has three daughters aged 41, 39 and 10, having been married four times. I didn’t ask but it may explain his movements. He fancied himself as a bit of a wit which, if you like slapstick, he is. I am not a fan of slapstick. He could not have been more friendly, though, and I felt it was important that I indulged him. With his prominent gnashers, he might do a brilliant Ken Dodd impression but it wasn’t part of his repertoire and I didn’t want to offend him by suggesting he added it.

Matt is his lodger and is out of work. Just in parentheses, it is odd that I have met so many who are out of work in bars. Those who are gainfully employed don’t seem to want to spend their own money but the unemployed seem comfortable blowing their welfare. I had a very interesting conversation with him about gun laws. He told me that part of why it is so dear to Americans goes right back to the time when the British banned anyone else from having weapons in the 1770s. He owns an AK-47, if you please. So I was deferentially nice to him. He uses it for popping off at cans and bottles, when he can afford the ammunition. Again, as you do.

Both were coruscating about Obama. I have yet to meet anyone who supports him. I know that my political sources are the sort of useless people like me who hang around in bars, so it is not necessarily a representative sample. Even so, the depth of anti-feeling is extraordinary. An oft repeated allegation is that having come in on a ‘Mr Clean’ ticket, so many of his potential appointments have been scuppered by revelations of jiggery-pokery, either financial or moral.

I should have more to write about tomorrow. I think if the car survives the journey ( and there is absolutely no reason why it shouldn’t), I will feel that I have done the bulk of it. There will be no more very long drives.

There is a golf gag there but it is late and I’m up early, so I won’t even try.

Cedar City October 5^th

It rained heavily all night. So much so, that I decided to do Bryce Canyon, a 160 mile round trip, rather than the 300 mile round trip to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. I left windy but dry conditions in Cedar City. I drove a few miles into the mountains. The river in the canyon, which the road to Bryce follows, was flowing quickly, a brick red colour, full of fine sandy sediment washed into it from the slopes above. As I started to climb, the rain turned from a fine drizzle to something more persistent. The road was OK, provided great care was taken to avoid rocks which had been washed on to it by the deluge. Sandstone, for the uninitiated, absorbs so much water but then simply splits apart. At a couple of points, I felt distinctly nervous driving under sheer rock faces. It did open out, eventually, having reached the top of the river’s course, when I assume I had made the plateau above. I say ‘assume’ because the cloud cover was such that it was difficult to see more than a few hundred metres. When the rain began to turn to sleet and I knew I had more height to attain, discretion took over and I turned back. Mountain country is no place to be in a small saloon car when conditions deteriorate. I guess it is why the vehicle of choice here is a big pick-up truck or a 4WD.

So I resigned myself to having one of those days, so familiar to anyone who has been on a cricket tour in England, when the best laid plans have to be abandoned and other activity takes its place. The problem is that Cedar City is not full of options for other activity. I eked out a coffee in Starbucks and a Caesar salad lunch in a deli. I came back to the motel and read some of a book. I went to watch a film. Case 39. Big mistake. It starred Rene Zellweger, Ian McShane and Adrian Lester, which looked promising, given the roles they have played so far. If I had chosen to watch any film, this would have been the last one. It turned out to be a cross between The Omen and Don’t Look Now, without the location, music, Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie.

I am not even going to try Bryce tomorrow. It is still raining and I glimpsed some snow on the mountains earlier this afternoon between showers. I am 95% certain I won’t get to the Grand Canyon either. The roads leading to it are very like the one to Bryce Canyon and I am not going to risk breaking down somewhere remote. The forecast is for it to keep raining tonight and tomorrow with a slow clear-up starting on Thursday. Friday looks reasonable and Saturday and Sunday look fine. There are, in short, more important things.

So I am stuck here until Thursday a.m. Bored and feeling quite a long way from anything I could call familiar. One of the things I wanted to achieve during the sabbatical was to exist for a time out of my comfort zone. I did not think it would come to pass in this particular location, in what is supposed to be a semi-arid climatic region. I guess I’ve just got here for the semi bit.

I will drive to Monticello on Thursday and take my time about it. I am going to attempt to get to Mesa Verde, which has the old Pueblo Indian settlements cut into the rock faces, on Friday, do the circular tour of Monument Valley, which has the landscape of tall columns ( buttes, I think ) and flat topped mesas, such as those familiar with Road Runner cartoons would recognise, on Saturday and Arches on Sunday before getting back towards Denver on Monday. I have organised to stay with some friends of friends from church on Tuesday night in Boulder, which is just north of Denver.

All long trips have highs and lows. This spell is just one of the latter. I can’t complain because it has been much more high than low so far. The trick has to be to take it on the chin, appreciate that family and friends are infinitely more valuable than anything else in life and to make as many jokes about it as possible.

I did get talking to the bloke who runs the place where I am staying. He is an Indian. The sort who comes from Ahmedabad, I should stress, not of indigenous American descent. Just in case you are worried, I did not go near that sort of gag in conversation. He has been here for 22 years yet still sends back some of his monthly income to his wider family in India. His children, who play outside between the rainstorms, sound just like any other American children. When I asked him how he felt about that, he said it was the main reason he came over here. He did so in a way that said ‘that’s enough personal revelation for now’. The conversation would have ended there had I not mentioned that India had beaten Australia in a very close Test Match. That prolonged it for a good 5 more minutes, even though I got the feeling there were pressing family matters to attend to, judging by the urgency of his wife’s repeated summons from behind the connecting door to his office.

You can’t help but admire that sort of bottle, commitment to what businesses like to call ‘core values’ and, of course, an appreciation of the finest of all games.

If I was not expecting to be holed up for three days by bad weather, I much less expected to be talking cricket in Southern Utah

This trip continues to throw up the most unusual surprises.

Cedar City, Utah October 4^th

It was ever so slightly disappointing today. The weather has turned and it rained for most of the afternoon. I had driven to Cedar City in the morning through the odd shower but as soon as I got half way to Zion National Park, it became very dark and stormy.

It doesn’t worry me in any other respect save that two of the jewels in the National Park crown are the next two on my list, i.e. the Grand Canyon tomorrow and Bryce Canyon on Wednesday. I have about 3 hours each way to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and I don’t want to get there to find the whole place shrouded in cloud.

That said, I am very glad I did visit Zion. The limited number of photos and brief video clips will not do it the same justice as would have been the case had there not been rain and cloud. It meant that all the contrast was missing and I gather that in sunshine the huge cliffs, which make up the valley walls, reflect a stunning array of colour.

I am going to attempt to describe it but if you want a decent look, I suggest you google Zion canyon and select images.

The canyon floor is about 2500 metres wide at the entrance and gradually narrows all the way up to Navajo Lake. The canyon is occupied by the Virgin River which drops some 4000 metres in the process. The valley is wooded and shaded by a variety of pine and aspen trees which, at this time of year, demonstrate the entire spectrum from yellow, through orange, to red and finally brown.

The extra wow-factor that ensures its National Park status is given by the valley sides. These are virtually sheer faces of sandstone of different colors, reflecting the varied chemistry of their formation. The Great White Throne is the second biggest monolith in the world and towers over 800 metres above the canyon. The Three Patriarchs stand sentinel near the canyon entrance. Angels Landing is a flat topped, 750 metre high slab of vivid red. On a day such as today, water, having landed on the top of these bare rocks and with nothing to halt its progress, obeys gravity by plunging vertically towards the valley. The whole effect is as if thick ropes have been placed on the valley walls to assist climbers.

It was discovered and colonized by, you’ve guessed it, The Mormons in the 1860s, hence the Biblical names. They thought the whole place was just as a temple should be, hence the Zion.

I was very glad to have made the effort but will go better prepared for cold and rain tomorrow.

I did meet a couple of people. Mary and Arnold sat with me on the shuttle bus ( the canyon is a car free zone ) on the way down. They are here from West Virginia. He is a retired attorney. They have a daughter in Weybridge, which is coincidentally local, married to a son-in law who makes and sells components for wind turbines. His current big contract is in Rumania and they are going out there next summer for a bit of Transylvania. 

Long drive tomorrow, short Wednesday, long Thursday and then, I hope no more than 3-4 hours a day. So far, so good, but the next bit is by far the most taxing.

Provo, Utah, October 3rd

For the first time since the drive from Naches to Missoula I didn’t do much other than get from A to B yesterday. ‘Montpeelyer’ to Provo, just south of Salt Lake City. I had intended to go to church but this is very much Latter Day Saint country and there was not a Presbyterian or Baptist church in sight. Provo is not anything to write home about. It is just another settlement off the freeway.

I enjoyed the drive across. I almost need a video recorder on permanently to convey the scenery. I passed Bear Lake on the west and then up and over Mount Logan. The deep valley on the descent would have been worthy of National Park status in the UK but it is just another deeply wooded canyon over here. The Rockies are what they say they are, too. Mountains. Not just hills. Within them, though, are several wide valleys, such as the ones containing Bear Lake and Salt Lake. The mountains flank these like walls and roads connect the valleys through steep passes. I keep taking photographs of lakes and mountains but they all look remarkably similar.

It looks like I may not quite do the same amount of small town America in the next week. I am staying 3 nights in Cedar City, whilst doing the three nearby national parks and will probably stay 4 nights in Monticello after that. It is near Arches, Monument Valley, Canyonlands and Mesa Verde.

I went to an all you can eat for $12 in the evening. I am mightily impressed with the service. Not knowing my way round what was on offer, or the form in availing myself of it, I asked one of the waitresses what was what. She gave me a one-to-one guided tour. The girl who was in charge of the table I ended up at was similarly attentive and I noticed it went for all those in my area. I know it is a cliché about quality of service but it is true, all the same.

And boy, do they like sweet things. Almost everything is possible to consume with added sugar. Milk, bread, a variety of sauces and probably the sugar itself comes with added sugar. The only thing I couldn’t get at the restaurant was a non-sugared drink. It was coke or fizz.

I am writing this with the Ryder Cup on in the background. It is most interesting to watch the US coverage.  I guess it is exactly the same in reverse at home. Lots of home team focus and attention given to home successes, whilst glossing over the losses. It is all getting a bit too close.

Montpelier Idaho October 3^rd

I hung around in Jackson this morning. I have made quite good progress and will probably get to the Grand Canyon/Zion/Brice area in a couple of days, which should leave plenty of time. So I didn’t push the driving either, only doing just over 100 and got to Montpelier at about 4.00.

They pronounce it Montpeelyer.  The ‘t’ is sounded, so it is quite different to the way we might say ‘monpayez’. Up the road ( like about 300 miles ) is Boise, which is pronounced like Del Boy’s mate Boycey, except the ‘c’ is an ‘s’. We might say ‘boys’ or ‘bwahze’.

I had some supper in the local deli at about 6.00. Really good time. Molly runs it with Harve. She made a mean beef salad while Harve dealt with the hot orders from the five other diners. They have run the show for 6 years and it is the most unprepossessing of exteriors but clearly a local treasure. Heber and Susan were two of the locals. He used to be a rancher of dairy stock ( = cattle ) until the big organisations took over production 20 years ago and he lost the lot. He moved into construction but dabbles now and Susan taught elementary grade until last year. They were really friendly and were very keen to find out all about my travels. They have travelled a bit within the USA but never out of it and were envious of the time and space I have been given. They have 5 children who all live either in Idaho or Utah. He enjoyed a large lump of meat and salad and washed it down with two definitely not diet cokes. Brandy came in with her two kids for a take out. She is a regular and was wearing the T-shirt to advertise the joint. Her husband is currently in Afghanistan, completing his third tour of duty. He has done 18+ years in the army and is due to retire in 18 months time. I asked her how she coped. She said she found the initial going away difficult but sort of got used to it and has her own ( unelucidated and I did not want to ask ) survival mechanisms. She was in the army herself and says she probably finds it easier than many other wives as a consequence. The two others were Dick and Karen, on their way to Yellowstone from Fresno in California. They are retired but he has some ‘interests in farming and had a boot load of tomatoes and peaches to prove it. I would not pack those if I were travelling that far but he reckons that it helps to oil any wheels if he can dish some out to the hoteliers.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable hour and I really liked the mix of people. Dick and Karen retired, educated, wealthy. Brandy and kids, local and very positive in what I would consider very trying circumstances. Heber and Sue, large, jovial and not angry about the hand they have been dealt. Harve and Molly just providing cheerful and homely service.

I also bumped into James, who is the deputy manager at the place I’m staying. He is 58 and comes complete with baseball cap and pony tail. He lost everything in 2004 and was on the road in Montpelier trying to hitch a lift with his dog, aiming to get to South Carolina ( 2500 miles away ), where his relatives all live. It was winter and freezing and the police persuaded the owner of this motel to give him a bed for the night. He has been here ever since.

The weather is on the way out. It will be wet tomorrow at times, so I don’t plan to push too hard. My aim is to get to southern Utah/ northern Arizona by Monday night, to give myself a good 3-4 days there before turning north-east to Arches, Monument Valley and then Denver.

I see Palace went down to yet another injury time goal. It also seems, amazingly, that it isn’t raining in Newport, which it has every single time I’ve been there.

I forgot to mention one amusing incident in Yellowstone. I was in the Visitor Centre when a woman asked one of the rangers for the difference between a buffalo and a bison. When I told her that she couldn’t wash her hands in a buffalo, I got a very odd look. The ranger merely rolled his eyes.

Jackson Wyoming October 2^nd

Breakfast was excellent. I turned up at Bonnie’s mobile home at 8.00 and she popped her head out of the door. ‘Come right on in’, she said and proceeded to introduce me to the other members of her family. It turned out there were 10 of them, occupying three mobile homes. 88 year old Ned and his wife Margene have nine children. Those nine have 36 between them. Those 36 have 112 children and those 112 have 15 children so far. That makes 174, in total, when they have a family get together.  They do that once a year, often by taking over an entire campsite. None of those present batted a single eyelid at my appearance. It is, evidently, a regular thing of Bonnie’s. She was unable to explain why I was the recipient of her hospitality, except that I happened to be in the right place at the right time. All Ned and Margene‘s nine have names beginning with K. I met Kim, Kevin, Kent and Kara. One of the great grandchildren, Aubree ( sic, female ), had time off because there is a local holiday in Idaho, where her family live, for potato picking. They were all hugely welcoming. I was glad that I didn’t bad mouth Missoula, as it turned out that Kevin and Sandi live there. I was also cagey about anything religious and was glad that I had been when it transpired the family are staunch LDSs, i.e. Mormons. I ate waffles, sausages, easy over eggs x 2, scones and coffee. Not bad and, as you will realise, enormously providential given the rest of the day.

I did the Old Faithful southern end of Yellowstone, having been lucky to have seen the classic Yellowstone scene of bison grazing against a backdrop of steaming springs on the way there. All the geyser activity is impressive and I will need to be asked, rather than offer description. I have been extremely blessed with the weather, apparently.

I drove south from Yellowstone. I stopped a couple of times at viewpoints before going into Teton National Park. The Tetons are another snow-capped range and at one point I stopped to take a shot of them across some grassland and a bit of Jackson Lake. And locked the keys in the car again. The first time was forgiveable, as the car locks automatically when the driver door is shut, which no car I have ever owned does. This time was silly. It was not a good location. A bloke whose wife had gone for a stroll did his best with a coat hanger. Another very helpful bloke from Michigan, on a similar type of trip, phoned AAA, with whom I took out insurance in Portland. Eventually they said someone would be there in 30-75 minutes. After an hour and a half, I was becoming a bit anxious. Another very helpful couple phoned them again and it turned out they had a completely different idea of where I was than where I actually was. They then put the correct GPS reference into their operation and told me it would be three hours until someone could get to me. So I settled down to wait, nervous about the prospect of waiting that long, with fading light, 7000 feet above sea level and wearing only a polo shirt and jeans. At that point, one other family van pulled in. They had spotted a moose and were keen to photograph it. They also had another suggestion, which was to phone the Teton National Park Information Centre. They did this and within 15 minutes a ranger had come and done the business. I drove to Jackson, the first town south. I tried the number I thought was for AAA from a public call box.  It turned out that it was the number of the car rental company, who had closed for the day. So it is possible that some bloke has driven three hours to find me and I am not there. Now that does cause me some stress. I expect, when I drop the car off in Denver, that there will be several questions to answer. AAA insurance is like AA membership, so it shouldn’t involve more than cross words but I am not looking forward to it.

So I have retired to an overnight lodging and am not going to go out tonight other than to get some food from the local supermarket.

A very good morning but not so hot in the afternoon.

And I will carry the burden of responsibility for a AAA breakdown operative for some years.

Golly, it looks wet at Celtic Manor.

ENNIS Montana October 1^st

ENNIS has turned out to be a genuine let down. I dropped into the SALOON briefly to find a few twenty-somethings taking tequila shots with their drinks, so I didn’t stay. The sign says that the population is 840 humans and 11,000,000 trout. I’d rather be a trout.

Today was Yellowstone. It was brilliant. The hot springs were all they needed to be ( Old Faithful tomorrow ), the falls were better than the pictures, the mountains were proper mountains, the sun shone all day and I had the immense good fortune to tick bison, elk, bighorn sheep and a bear. The geographers will get bored with me, I fear.

I had my first real ‘moment’, too. I got out of the car at Canyon Village, right in the middle of the park, and discovered seconds later that my keys were still inside. The car was locked. I was lucky in that it happened where there was a big visitor centre. They radioed one of the rangers, who spent 10 minutes wiggling his..now, now, don’t titter..implement and the car was duly unlocked. Those of you who know my propensity to hit the panic button in such situations will be amazed to know that I felt no anxiety at any time. I put it down to the fact that a) I was on my own and my action affected nobody else and b) I was under no time pressure. You can only imagine the scene had it happened with the family in tow and a deadline to meet.

The most remarkable thing happened on my way out of the park. There was a 10 minute hold up while a queue of cars waited at a contraflow signal. About 5 minutes into it, a woman appeared at my window. ‘Do you want to come and eat with us?’ she asked, adding that she and some friends were staying in a campsite just down the road. I was completely thrown. What would possess someone to ask a total stranger to dinner? What conversation must there have been with her and her husband and friends in the car behind? Why did she choose me and not the car in front? These and many other thoughts ( mad axe-people, religious nutcases etc ) hurried through my head as I computed an answer. I gave a non-committal response, along the lines of having to get back to ENNIS by dark and it being really kind of them. Anyhow, I went back to the car behind and was introduced to the husband and friends. They were all over 60 and very well fed. So I have agreed to drop in for some breakfast at 8.00 tomorrow. The more I think about it, the more strange it seems but my antennae picked up no bad vibes from the group, who just seemed to be a lot of happy, retired friends who were anxious to be hospitable. Her name is Bonnie and her husband says she is the best cook in the business. His waistline would concur.

In a nutshell, I did the northern of the two park loops today and will do half of the southern one tomorrow before heading south. I am told that the Tieton Mountains are a must, so will go that way. After a huge breakfast, I hope.