Grand Canyon 2002

Colorado Plateau

          The trip had been talked about and planned out since June.  Actually since April.  Maury had sold the idea to David and Lindley.  Then Stacey came aboard.  Maury and I had hiked the Canyon back in the 80's.    With much enthusiasm, we set about shaping up, this five over 50.  This over- the-hill gang's last stand. But we are still standing! And already in our minds....

                David Bailey, writer for Delta-Sky in-flight mag, world traveler, food connoisseur, made campground reservation on the Canyon rim camps.   Actually got them mixed up:   wrong rim, wrong dates.    But since we were doing it so far in advance, no problem to un-tangle.  He also arranged to rent a vehicle for us.  I got the back country reservations.  But the trail I chose, was difficult.   The Back-Country boys questioned my wisdom, before handing out the permits, but I had done the trails requested two years back, and I was the oldest in the party.  So I figured...... This proved a mistake, but it turned OK.....

                Stacey Barnet, dog lover and former ballet dancer, Maury's long-time neighbor, long legged and sturdily agile, with a good job.  She was the best organized, and did some wonderful packing.  And a great navigator.  And knew all the right people!!!

               Lindley White, our first cousin, born three days before Maury in 1942, had had some by-pass surgery a few years back.  But he was as sturdy as an ox still, and a natural woodsman, and steady, terrific driver.  He drove, with Stacey navigating, the big comfortable Chevrolet Tahoe.  SUV, van, whatever.  The children in the back.  Fighting to stay out of the middle, I never quite learned about backseat seat-belts and kept unbuckling Maury's or David's, whever had the bad luck to be next to me, and my library and camera bag in the way all the time. .

                They were flying in together to Phoenix  October 5th.  Our hike in the Canyon was to be the 8th and 9th of October, coming out the 10th, with rim reservations on the 7th and 10th.  So, I had big plans to meet them, do our hiking and camping, then meet Alice Griffin in Los Vegas and drive to San Francisco to see Messien's St. Francois, an opera that may not ever be performed again in my life-time.  That part did not happen.

                As luck would have it, Alice Carol Caldwell came to see the Fort Worth Opera production of Barber of Seville the Week-end before this thing was to take place.  I was having trouble with the Honda.  Hearing funny noises.   I hate funny noises.  I picked her up at the airport on Friday, Sept 27th, and the funny noises got worse.   She had reservations in my friend Jimmy's Brazos Motel, in Granbury.  I arranged to borrow Alice Griffin's truck for our running around, which included gallery hopping in Dallas on Saturday, Opera on Sunday, and Monday to sight-see, and the flight back to Starkville on Tuesday.   Somehow it all worked fine.  I have known Alice Carol for something like 44 years.   Her career as a musician and teacher was a splendid one.   She is not about to retire from her theater work, but she did leave her teaching job last year to spend more time with Price,  her husband who has been teaching in Tokyo.  Some of my old friends do wonderful things. But thats another story for later.....

                Here I was, time to prepare for a trip to the west coast and the car about down.   But good people in Weatherford worked on the thing, and had it ready by Thursday night.  Good.   That meant almost two days to get to Phoenix.  Got everything ready to take on Wednesday after dropping off the car.  A new friend Michael picked me up and took me to get the car thursday afternoon.    I loaded it up, filled the tank, and headed out highway 4 to I-20 and westward ho! I went!!!  Slept somewhere that night in a safe rest area about Pecos.  Just after the smelly oil towns of Odessa and Monahans.  Woke up about 4 AM and stopped for coffee, then hit Van Horn about daylight.  I like to drive through that town.   And I was glad I did, because there was a new place that startled me on the main drag:  the Van Gogh Gallery, a book store, Antique Venue.   And early that morning, the proprietor, whose name is Ran(dle) Horn, was busy at work moving boxes of books around.  And there were these great canvases he had painted, all of Van Gogh's works,  very nicely done, one with his familiar Arlesiennes placed together on one big canvas.  We chatted, and discovered he had been a preacher like Vincent had been, but had gotten the bug to paint.   He basically taught himself, and came up with some remarkable canvases.

                            He was a good teacher.  And obviously delightfully obsessed.

            Back on the road, I sailed through El Paso about ten AM, and found the way to New Mexico, turning west at Mesa Street, just before leaving Texas.  All that traffic scares the hell out of me these days and I will do anything to avoid it.  The road I found hooked up with High-way 9, which parallels the border along there.  I had to stop in Columbus, a town I enjoyed seeing last trip. Here the library was open, and I used their computer to check e-mail.   Also the museum in the old rail station was interesting, with the famous story of Poncho Villa's only US incursion, and the exciting battle that took place there in 1908 or something.   There is the Poncho Villa State Park right in the town itself.   Of course the town is only about three blocks deep in any direction. And a Border Crossing two miles south.
 

Van Horn. 
Columbus, New Mexico.   Poncho Villa almost captured it.

                        On back up to I-10, going into Arizona.    I had killed so much time in Columbus,  It was getting dark after Tucson.    I went through Wilcox, thinking I would see a motel cheep.   I needed to clean up before meeting the gang the next day....  but no motel came in view.   I was driving slow and several cars honked at me.  I thought there was something wrong with my car.   I just got the fuck out.   A bit tired and pissed.  By the time I hit the mountains on toward Phoenix, I found a road-side rest stop and went to sleep.   It is comfortable for me sleeping in the Honda Inn.   I had pillows, sleeping bag, reclining seats and all.  Slept soundly a few hours, and woke up after midnight.  Found a truck-stop that had showers, and took one.   It was a bit confusing, the way they operated it.  Cost five bucks, but they held back five extra, redeemable at end of shower.   Cannot tell you why.  After I figured out which one to go into and enter the pass code and all, found it quite cozy:   big towel, soap 5 minutes of hot water, maybe more.  Refreshed with clean clothes, I got back on the road, and went into Phoenix just before dawn.   Ended up down-town as the sun made an appearance.   Had some breakfast, McDonalds, where else?  and strolled down-town.  Big new (to me) convention center.  Drove around to find the airport, which is close to down town, really.   Wanted to go to the museum, but could not find it.  It was not where I remembered it!!!  I had a bunch of dirty clothes.  I had not washed them before I left because I had no car.   Excuse.  Actually just lazy.   But I found a coin laundry in the seedy side of down town and got a load done with the Mexicans.   Just like Texas.   Coin wash is mostly for Mexicans and old people. I was a little concerned:   the superintendent, a lady of Hispanic descent and her teenage son (?), were in a cage behind bars.   They made change sliding the quarters through the bars on a folded card!   The TV was on a religious channel.  English language.  The wild West, you know.

          Got to the airport in plenty of time, finding their flight was late.   Parking cost a buck an hour, fifty cents the half hour really.  But their plane finally landed.   Good to see Maury's smiling face and Lindley's.   Hasty intro to David Bailey, the writer I had been corresponding with, and Stacey, Maury's dog-loving friend from Cornelius.  Baggage picked up, Maury rode with me, listened for any problem my car might be having, and the rest caught the shuttle to the car rental agency,  some blocks away.  We met, and picked up this great big Chevrolet Tahoe.  It would accommodate all of us, but I needed to find a place to leave my car.  That was not possible at the rental lot.   I did not want to leave it on the Phoenix streets!   We decided to go on out of town, to a place we wanted to see:   the Apache Trail, wildly hyped as the most spectacular mountain driving experience in the state!   We would go to Apache Junction, a town 30 miles east.   Just then, Stacey remembered that her good friend had a place their.  It seems this man was a follower of Renaissance Fairs with a 

special craft, and was away in North Carolina now!   She called him, and he said we could camp out at his place!  And better yet, I could leave my car there.  After some interchanges, and he assured his neighbor Wayne not to shoot us, we celebrated at Elvira's Mexican Restaurant before going up the hill to Jamie's place.  The location of his property was spectacular.  On the side of this slope, under a rocky promontory called Apache Saddle Butte, with a grand view of the spectacular.  Neighbor Wayne and wife were most helpful, opening Jamie's mobile home for us,  and giving us helpful info.  The lights of Apache Junction and Phoenix beyond spread out to the West.   The last rays of the sunset reflected grandly on the Superstitions. It bathed the hillside in soft light, and with this 360 degree view all was peacefull.   We put up tents and bed rolls.   Night fell. The stars were spectacular, and we slept the sleep of the tired and happy campers we were to become.  I woke regularly to watch the starry progress of the Summer Triangle, the rising Pliades,  and old Taurus the red-eyed bull,  Orion and his dogs,  the morning planets, Saturn, Jupiter then Venus....  thrilled to be again in this place I love. Toward dawn, a dog barked, and was answered across the way, by another, and finally at least 10 dogs started up! And then a wonderful chorus of coyotes began to howl. A falsetto howlelujah chorus. I roused up and Maury and I had to laugh out loud. AH NATURE! RED IN TOOTH AND CLAW.
 
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