America, the Beautiful!

A New Focus for Me

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 14:31:00 +0000

Thanks to all the wonderful readers who helped make this blog take off. I'm sorry for the lack of posting for so long. However, this will be my last post on this site. I now have a new focus, and a new site.

In January, my 17-year-old daughter was shot and killed. My life changed forever. I am tossed about in this tempest that still roars daily in my new reality. However, I feel I have been called to honor her memory and work to glorify God through a new ministry with a new site, Running with Amanda.

Sorry to disappoint anyone who was looking forward to reading more here, but you're welcome to join me at the new site and follow my new ministry there.

May God bless and keep you all.

Happy Birthday Jesus!

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Sat, 25 Dec 2010 06:33:00 +0000

Now is the time to put politics aside and celebrate the greatest gift mankind ever received.

Tomorrow we celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Christmas is, was, and always will be a holiday established to celebrate His birth. The following is the story of Jesus' birth from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 2:

⁴ So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. ⁵ He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. ⁶ While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, ⁷ and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

⁸ And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. ⁹ An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

¹³ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

¹⁵ When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

¹⁶ So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. ¹⁷ When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, ¹⁸ and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. ¹⁹ But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. ²⁰ The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

²¹ On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise the child, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived.

Thank you God for sending your Son to live and die so that we may have eternal life.

May peace and love of our Savior, Jesus Christ, bless everyone in this joyous season.

Happy birthday Jesus!

Count Your Blessings

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 04:10:00 +0000

Another in the inspirational music series...

Bing Crosby offers some great advice in this song, reminding us to count our blessings when we're feeling low. That's a lesson we should all learn.

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.--1 Thessalonians 5:18

Down in the river to pray--Alison Krauss

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 12:40:00 +0000

I can't seem to find the time lately to take to the trails and visit the parks. The demands of work have kept me from the outdoors of late. So, in this joyous Christmas season I thought I'd replace the typical posts you find on my blog with some inspirational music that will hopefully help lift your spirits during the month we celebrate Christ's birth.

Here's Alison Krauss, singing a capella, a beautiful tune that reminds us of the path to true happiness and satisfaction. Prayer. Remember to call on God the Father, who promises to supply your needs.

Hope you enjoy!

Happy Thanksgiving!

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 17:53:00 +0000

On this day we give thanks to Almighty God for all the blessings He has bestowed upon us and we wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and pray that you too are blessed by Him!

Also, we wish to remind all of the origins of this joyous holiday with the following, General George Washington's declaration to celebrate the first Thanksgiving holiday of the newly established United States of America in 1789.

WHEREAS it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favour; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me "to recommend to the people of the United States a DAY OF PUBLICK THANKSGIVING and PRAYER, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness:"

NOW THEREFORE, I do recommend and assign THURSDAY, the TWENTY-SIXTH DAY of NOVEMBER next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed;-- for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish Constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted;-- for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge;-- and, in general, for all the great and various favours which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also, that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions;-- to enable us all, whether in publick or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wife, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us); and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.

GIVEN under my hand, at the city of New-York, the third day of October, in the year of our Lord, one thousand seven hundred and eighty-nine.

(signed) G. Washington

Source: The Massachusetts Centinel, Wednesday, October 14, 1789

May God bless and keep you on this Thanksgiving day.

Beauty all around us...

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 05:23:00 +0000

Sometimes we tend to think we have to get away, travel to exotic places, and spend a lot of money to find the beauty in nature. Then...God reminds us that ALL of his creation is beautiful. The beauty of His creation surrounds us, even in our everyday environment.

It's been several months since I had the opportunity to get back to nature. But, as I left work this afternoon, I was struck with the beauty of the sunset in the pictures below.

Driving Arkansas' "Pig Trail"

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Thu, 14 Oct 2010 02:28:00 +0000

Last weekend I had the opportunity to enjoy a drive I hadn't experienced in more than two decades. A narrow, twisting, two-lane asphalt path stretching sixty or so miles through the Ozark Mountains from Fayetteville to Ozark, Arkansas provides drivers with beautiful vistas and serenity never found on the four-lane, divided interstate system.

At eighteen, I was a regular traveler on the route, but not because of the scenery. During my one year attending the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville, I returned to North Little Rock several times on weekends. The relatively new I-540 from Alma to the home of Arkansas' flagship university wasn't yet built, leaving two possible paths to reach the college.

Then, most made the trip via US 71, the truck route for points north of Fort Smith. Well known for its switchback turns and steep grades, travelers considered it a treacherous trek the far northwestern reaches of the Natural State. But its hairpin turns didn't hold a candle to "The Pig Trail." And at the thrill-seeking age of 18, I chose to make the more dangerous journey on a regular basis.

Then, it wasn't for the scenery, but the thrill and the challenge of speeding up the twisting mountain road. But that was then...and this is now. Twenty some odd years later, I chose to take the slower route from Fayetteville to I-40 for no other reason than to enjoy the scenic beauty.

We had traveled to Siloam Springs, AR on Friday night to watch the Vilonia Eagles trounce the Panthers 48-28 and stayed the night in nearby Springdale. Early the next morning we headed south on I-540 and took the US-71 Business exit heading south through Fayetteville. On the south end of town, we turned left (east) on Arkansas Highway 16. A short time later, we found ourselves enveloped in the serene setting of the Ozark Mountains.

Though "The Pig Trail" doesn't actually start until one reaches Highway 23 just past the tiny town of Brashears, the beauty of the journey begins not long out of Fayetteville on Highway 16. The road parallels the upper reaches of the White River, offering glimpses of the winding waterway through the thick foliage of the prominent hardwood forest.

Blink and you'll miss the tiny village of Brashears, but just past it you'll find the junction of Highways 16 and 23. Turning south on 23 begins the journey on the well-known "Pig Trail."

Though we'd hoped the season was late enough to enjoy the full effect of the fall colors, the leaves remained mostly green. Still, even without the bright colors we were expecting, the drive rewarded us with spectacular scenery that one normally doesn't spot through the windshield of a car.

Most of the drive carries the motorist through the thick of the hardwood forests, sometimes almost forming a tunnel of overhanging trees that almost blocks out the sun. But a few places along the path provide beautiful overlooks offering expansive views of the Ozark Mountains.

After that drive, the interstate stretch from Ozark to the house promised to be far less enjoyable. But we stopped for a pit stop at the interstate rest area just east of the Highway 23 exit and enjoyed another spectacular look at the mountains to our north.

One of these days, we'll catch the leaves in the full of the fall color change. But even in their late autumn green state, the drive offers travelers plenty of enjoyment. God's artwork is certainly evident crossing the western Arkansas hills.

Pinnacle Mountain Hike

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 04:27:00 +0000

Last month my family and I made a three-mile hike at Pinnacle Mountain State Park just outside Little Rock, Arkansas. The park has several trails that offer varying degrees of difficulty, but either of the trails leading to the summit are rated strenuous. The base trail has been completed to make a 3.5 mile loop all the way around the base of the mountain, but all the online resources I can find have yet to be updated to show this.

Our hike began at the West Summit Picnic Area. We covered about 3 miles that included a 1.5 mile stretch of the Base Trail, the 3/4 mile East Summit Trail, and the 3/4 mile West Summit Trail for a total distance of about 3 miles. A 700+ foot ascent from the parking lot of the picnic area rewards the hiker with breathtaking vistas of Lake Maumelle from the West Summit and the Arkansas River from the East Summit.

The Base Trail is not marked from the West Summit Picnic Area, but it's really easy to find. The covered entrance to the West Summit Trail head is impossible to miss and that's where our hike began. After only 100 yards or so the West Summit and Base Trails intersect and we made a right turn to begin our walk along the base of the mountain.

This was by far the easiest part of the hike. Though the trail can be a little rocky, and a little narrow, the entire 1.5 mile stretch we covered only nets about an 80 foot rise in elevation. The hardwood forest offers plenty of shade and our morning hike treated us to beautiful views of the sun forcing its way through the oak trees that covered the mountain.

The trails in Pinnacle Mountain State Park offer hikers an opportunity to experience a near-pristine woodland environment only a stone's throw from Arkansas' largest city, but a few man-made accommodations offer comfort to those who traverse the park's trails. The Base Trail is marked with green paint splashes near eye level on trees along the path. Though these remind hikers they are not exactly hiking in the wilderness, the markings are necessary to keep visitors from straying from the trail and following any number of game trails or paths cleared by runoff water rushing down the side of the mountain. Benches constructed every so often along the trail offer another convenience to comfort those traversing the trails. They are painted to blend with the natural surroundings so resting hikers still feel close to nature during their respite.

The only thing we encountered on the Base Trail that really contradicted the wilderness feel we were seeking was a section of the trail that paralleled a large power line for a couple of hundred yards. The open gash cut through the woods and decorated with the huge metal masts supporting the cables carrying electricity to the city to the east remind the hiker of his close proximity to the concrete covered population center just minutes away.

Fortunately though, a brisk pace removed us from the woods' wound rather quickly and we once again found ourselves surrounded by beauty that obscured most signs of civilization.

The only natural danger we encountered along the Base Trail came in the form of poisonous plants, poison ivy (pictured below) and poison oak. Their vines often protruding onto the trail could catch hikers unaware, especially those wearing shorts.

After a mile and a half of relatively easy hiking on the Base Trail, we came to the junction with the East Summit Trail. It had been more than 20 years since I'd hiked this trail, but I remembered it being far more strenuous than the West Summit Trail we planned to descend. It didn't disappoint.

The trail, marked with white marks outlined in red, was easy to follow but the 3/4 mile hike from here to the summit was certainly strenuous. The first 1/2 mile wasn't so bad, consisting of a series of switchbacks on a moderately difficult trail. But the last 1/4 mile was a steep climb of several hundred feet. Far more a climb than a hike, it was even more difficult than I'd remembered. But we made it to the top and were rewarded with the spectacular views you see below.

Looking east from the summit, the Big Dam Bridge is visible on the Arkansas River in the distance. From the west side of the summit, the view is of beautiful Lake Maumelle.

Arkansas River from East Summit

Lake Maumelle from West Summit

Our descent followed the West Summit Trail which offered a far less difficult hike than its East Summit counterpart. This trail is marked with yellow splashes on the rocks and trees. The first 1/4 mile is not quite as steep as what we'd climbed on the opposite slope and the boulders on this side of the mountain are arranged in more of a stair step fashion that facilitates the climb up or down. Near the top of the West Summit Trail, hikers are treated to several gorgeous vistas of the valley below and nearby peaks.

Views from West Summit Trail

Pinnacle Mountain State Park offers a great getaway for nature lovers, only minutes from the hustle and bustle of Little Rock. Breathtaking views await those who want to make the strenuous climb to the top, but serene strolls through the hardwoods are available for hikers who aren't ready to tackle the more difficult trails to the summit.

To get to the park, take I-430 to the Highway 10/Cantrell Rd exit. Go west on Highway 10 to Chenal Parkway. Turn right on Chenal Parkway to Highway 300. Turn right and a short drive will bring you to the entrance of the West Summit Picnic Area.

Bathrooms with running water are available in the picnic area, but hikers should bring plenty of drinking water. There is no water available on the hiking trails in the park.

Please feel free to leave comments detailing your own experiences at Pinnacle Mountain State Park. In September, we're planning a couple of short hikes at Heber Springs, Arkansas. The first is a short trail overlooking the Little Red River that begins at the William Carl Garner Visitor's Center near the dam that forms Greer's Ferry Lake. The second is another short trail just east of Heber Springs that leads to the top of a small mountain called Sugarloaf.

Until next summer, we'll be hiking about once a month on various trails throughout Arkansas and I'll write about each one. Thanks for reading, and happy hiking!

It had to end

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 03:04:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 12^th post of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

After the Grand Canyon, our two week summer vacation had nearly run its course. All that remained was the long drive back to central Arkansas. It was late afternoon by the time we left the South Rim, so we decided it would be best to find a place to spend the night.

We settled for the evening at the Quality Inn of Winslow, AZ. We slept in a decent room for a fair price. It wasn't anything fancy or luxurious, but we found nothing to complain about either. There was an inside pool that could be viewed from the rooms. The complimentary deluxe continental breakfast was one of the better we'd enjoyed in our many stays at various Choice Hotels across the West on this trip.

Almost 1200 miles separated us from home when we pulled out of Winslow, so we decided to take a couple of days to get there. Using the free wireless internet offered at our hotel, I was able to book a campsite for the next night at Santa Rosa Lake State Park in New Mexico. It was only about 400 miles from Winslow, but camping by a lake seemed like a good idea after two nights in hotels.

We arrived around 4:00 in the afternoon, plenty of time to set up camp and explore. The campsite we had reserved had running water and an electric hookup, so we were confident the girls would be happier here than they'd been in many of the campgrounds where we had stayed. There was a nice, covered concrete picnic table and for the first time in what seemed like ages, we weren't in bear country. So no warnings about food storage or what to do if a bear entered your tent. But that didn't mean there were no pests to annoy us.

Our first task was to set up camp. We unloaded the blazer and began the now practiced drill of erecting our tents. But this time we found a previously unknown adversary in our camping experience--ants. And plenty of them! As we tried to locate the smoothest spots to plant our canvass coverings we noticed quite a few of them scurrying around. But it wasn't until we began to drive the stakes into the ground that we realized the extent of the infestation.

The vibrations created by hammering the metal pegs into the hard ground apparently annoyed the army of ants camped just beneath the surface. Long before the tents were sufficiently tied down, the ground appeared to move as the six-legged critters emerged from their subsurface domicile. We finished the job and decided to explore a little, hoping our tiny neighbors would settle back in while we were gone.

The girls were hoping to find the lake suitable for swimming but that didn't work out. The campground sat high above the lake and it was a pretty good hike over a rocky path to make it to the shore. Once we reached the water's edge, the rocks and brush lining the lake made it difficult to locate a decent place to enter. Then, once we stepped into the water we realized it was way too cold to swim anyway. A little disappointed, we wandered back along the stony path to the campground.

Our ants had settled down, but there were still plenty to be seen. Using the provided picnic table, we were able to cook supper and eat before the insects could overtake us. The running water allowed us to clean up quickly, so we avoided being overwhelmed by our underground neighbors. But they did make it necessary to pack everything not in the tents back into the Blazer. Even though we were no longer in bear country, we wouldn't be able to leave our things outside.

We weren't able to keep all the ants out of our tents, but we did manage to get some sleep. The few that did get in would occasionally bite so the night was passed in a somewhat fitful sleep.

You've probably figured it out by now, but in case anyone is still unclear, this isn't a great place to camp in a tent. If you decide to spend the night here, I'd recommend doing it in an RV.

The next morning we awoke and quickly packed our things. The Blazer was loaded for the final leg, 800 miles, and we were all ready to get home.

The drive was uneventful for the most part, but there is one picture I'd like to share. Just east of Amarillo, TX we passed a huge metal cross beside the freeway. It was great to see this symbol of our Savior, communicating the message of salvation, proudly displayed beside the busy highway.

Reminded that all we had seen and done was made possible through Him, I said a little prayer thanking God for giving us the opportunity to share this experience as a family. He provided us the means and the desire to take the trip and it is my hope that, above all, these articles glorify Him.

We have decided to take another trip next year, but haven't yet decided on a destination. In the meantime, we'll be hiking at least once a month in Arkansas and will post articles and pictures describing those trails and their locations.

God bless and thanks for reading!

Grand Canyon!

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 01:53:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 11^th post of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

We left the cubs of Bearizona behind and pushed north on Arizona highway 64, headed for the Grand Canyon! The ranger at the park gate took our entry fee and handed us a packet of literature similar to that we received earlier when we entered Yellowstone.

It had been more than 20 years since I had visited the park, but my wife and daughters would see it that day for the first time. On my previous visit I accompanied my grandparents, an aunt and uncle and their two small children. I recalled being awed by the gaping gash separating the north rim from the south, but not much else. We must have done nothing more than drive up, get out, and shoot a few pictures at the lookout, because there was a lot to see and do that I would discover on this trip along with my family.

For instance, I had no idea there were so many hiking trails. My visit two decades earlier didn't reveal the developed area of the South Rim Village. I'd heard of the mule rides available to descend into the canyon, but we didn't get close enough to see the skinners guiding tourists over the rim. I was blessed on this trip to experience many of these things along with my wife and daughters for the first time, even though it was not my first visit to the park.

After leaving the entrance, we continued north on highway 64 to the parking area at Mather Point. The observation area was fenced off and under construction, but the South Rim hiking trail separated the parking area and the construction zone. So we set out afoot heading east.

I was surprised, but grateful, to find no guardrails after we left the Mather Point area. The rim (the real rim with its sheer drop of hundreds or thousands of feet in places) was as accessible to us as it was to a jackrabbit! Some points jutted into the seemingly endless space and provided adventurous mini-hikes when I navigated their less traveled trails.

We could see Yaki Point soon after we left the parking lot and began our hike. It looked close, maybe less than a mile. Visible below Yaki Point was a gash in the cliff face that appeared to be a trail that would take me down into this famous natural wonder known as Grand Canyon. The temptation to enter this famous landmark was great and I wanted to find that trail.

So, with a few side adventures of me climbing out onto the rocks jutting over the expanse, we continued to wind our way east along the rim. But our daughters were tired of hiking by this point in our two week vacation, and we had not planned on a long hike when we disembarked from our Blazer. My wife and I relented against their complaints and permitted them to return to the visitors' center at Mather where they could charge their indispensable cell phones and wait for us.

We pushed on though, but never reached Yaki. A light rain began to fall, and we decided to turn back about a mile from Mather. The precipitation didn't really stop us, because we were already thinking about reversing course before the drops began to fall. The real kicker was, after hiking a mile or so along the rim, Yaki Point appeared no closer than it had when we first spotted it. It still appeared close, but no closer than before we began our march. So we turned back toward the west to link back up with our daughters.

By the time we were all four together again at the visitors' center, the rain had stopped. We walked around and viewed a few of the exhibits, but these were not what had drawn us to leave interstate 40 and pay the fee to enter the park. The beauty created by God, not the trinkets built by man, was what drew us to this awe-inspiring masterpiece sculpted by our Creator.

The map we received at the gate showed South Rim Village a short distance to the west. Lodges, a train station, and more hiking trails were marked there so we decided to head that direction. But first, we took advantage of the picnic tables provided at the Mather Point parking lot and enjoyed a lunch of sandwiches and chips prepared on the tailgate of our vehicle.

The drive west was slow, but beautiful. Our map left much to be desired as to scale and accuracy. It took several loops of the Village area to get the feel for where everything was and to find a parking spot. Parking was extremely scarce here as the Village area seemed to be the most popular on the South Rim. Our parking spot was a good distance from the rim, so it took a short hike to get back in position to enjoy the view.

By the time we reached Verkamp's Store, the girls were already tired of hiking. Once again, we allowed them to remain behind while my wife and I explored. (With much of the previous two weeks spent in areas with no cell phone service, and many nights spent in campgrounds with no electricity for charging them, all it took to make them content at this point was a charged phone with service.) With orders to stay at Verkamp's and go nowhere else, we left them behind and walked westward along the South Rim Trail.

The lodges here were beautiful, but again, these were not what attracted us. We came for the scenery and the experience. There were two man-made structures that did interest us though. The Lookout Studio and Kolb Studios protruded out over the abyss. They virtually hang over the side of the cliff and provide outstanding vistas to canyon visitors.

On the right side of the door entering Lookout Studio hangs a plaque with the subtitle to this blog, Psalm 104:24. This inspirational plaque provided an essential part of the motivation for this website, which is why I chose that verse as the subtitle and the web address. God truly blessed us with His creations, the Grand Canyon and others, and it made me feel really good to see the credit for this natural work of art given to whom it belongs. I was pleasantly surprised to see the Bible verse posted so boldly on an edifice in our National Park, with so many attacks on religion in general and Judeo-Christian religion specifically.

The view from Lookout Studio was so inspirational, my wife and I pledged to each other to bring the girls back here before we left the park to get their pictures. But not quite yet. First, we intended to continue on our westward track along the South Rim Trail.

Not far west of Lookout Studio sits Kolb Studio, where the most famous of Grand Canyon photographers lived for decades. Just outside the studio is the Bright Angel Trailhead, the mule skinners' route into the canyon. The lure of the inner canyon was too much to resist. Though my wife had no interest in dropping below the rim, she indulged my spontaneous quest to descend and promised to wait at the top.

I hadn't planned on plunging into the canyon so I was not prepared to journey deep within the walls. Seemingly everywhere along the rim were signs posted to warn adventurers of the dangers lurking below the rim. One prominent sign told the story of a 24-year-old marathon runner who embarked on a one-way journey into the depths of the canyon. The intended message was clear: if this conditioned athlete could die here, so can you! So my adventure would have to be short, due to my lack of preparation and my waiting wife and children.

My mini-adventure into the canyon took me only a couple of hundred feet down in elevation, and maybe a half-mile along the trail before I turned around. But this short journey both quenched my thirst to hike below the rim and whetted it to hike to the bottom. Though this vacation would start and end without me reaching the river that created this snaking scar across the northern Arizona desert, I pledged to return one day and reach the Colorado.

Heeding the warning signs and common sense, I turned back long before the hike and the heat got the better of me. As I climbed back out, I realized how easy it would be to miscalculate and out walk one's ability in this beautiful, scenic deathtrap. My short hike down seemed to demand little in the way of strength, but the steep hike up quickly works to wear down the muscles in your legs. Because I didn't go far, mine was a pretty easy journey down and back up. However, by the time I again reached the top, it was clear that climbing the 4300 feet from the Colorado to the rim is something one would never want to attempt lacking adequate preparation and conditioning.

When we linked up again, my wife and I continued west along the South Rim Trail for another half-mile or so. Again, distances were deceiving. We could see the rim jutted out toward the inner canyon farther down the trail, then curved back to the west. It looked like a great observation point to look back at the developed area of the Village. But again, we walked and walked and we never seemed to close the distance between where we were and where we wanted to be.

Finally, still short of our initial goal, we decided to turn back because the hands on the clock were still winding the day away. Without stopping we returned to find the girls. Over their complaints, we marched them back to Lookout Studio and descended the steps to shoot their photos leaning against the wall.

On the way back to the Blazer, we stopped and bought an ice cream for each of us. The creamy, cool treat hit the spot after the trek and our family visit to the Grand Canyon came to a close. We left the park and headed for Flagstaff where we would once again hit I-40 and point the vehicle east toward home.

Bearizona!

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Sun, 08 Aug 2010 20:00:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 10^thpost of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

(You read it right. Not Arizona, but Bearizona. Read on and you will see why!)

Leaving California, we had planned to make it to Grand Canyon National Park and find a place to pitch our tents at or near the park. But we had lingered longer visiting family and left later than planned. Darkness overtook us on our eastbound drive miles before we reached the highway 64 exit where we would leave Interstate 40 and head north to the Grand Canyon. Because we had no idea if there were any vacancies at the campgrounds in the park, we chose to stay in Williams, AZ.

Evidently many other weary travelers chose to pass the night there as well. We passed numerous motels with signs proclaiming "No Vacancy" as we drove into and through town. But once again, our Lord above was there to provide for our needs that night. We eventually came to an Econolodge with still un-rented rooms.

The next morning we arose and indulged ourselves with the complimentary deluxe continental breakfast offered by the hotel. A rack near the front desk offered dozens of free brochures tempting tourists to spend their money on nearby attractions. Most of these advertised Grand Canyon related adventures: take the train to the Grand Canyon, take an airplane ride over the Grand Canyon, fly in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon, ride a mule to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, etc. But we were particularly drawn to a brochure describing a very different experience.

The title "Bearizona!" headlined the brochure with pictures of several species of wildlife. Scanning the description on the front, it became clear this was a drive-through wildlife park, just recently opened. Though we had been blessed with the opportunity to see numerous species of wildlife in their natural environment at Yellowstone, there were several species listed on the Bearizona! brochure that we had not seen. And, there were babies! The ad promised baby black bears and baby grey wolves awaited us in the wildlife park.

The wildlife park was located just off I-40 at the same exit (Highway 64) we needed to take to get to the Grand Canyon. So it wasn't even out of our way. An added bonus was the price. The advertised entry fee to view the wildlife was $11 per person. The Bearizona! brochure made clear the fee would increase to $22 per person in the 2011 season for several reasons. The park had opened only 5 weeks earlier than our arrival and construction was ongoing. Because some containment areas were yet to be completed, certain wildlife species were not yet available for viewing.

At the park entrance we paid our fee and received more literature and a map of the park. We were also warned that we were not allowed to leave the vehicle on our tour, and that all windows should be kept completely rolled up once we entered the black bear enclosure. The young lady at the booth promised we would hear these warnings again as we progressed through the park. She also let us know we could drive through more than once if we desired.

So off we went.

The most impressive species we viewed on the drive was certainly the black bear. Though we had spotted one in Yellowstone, it was too distant to get a really good look (or a good photo). Here, we were able to get really close and get several good pictures of several bears. We even witnessed two bears mating. Other species were less impressive, including the American burro and the Dall sheep. But one thing we had not seen at Yellowstone was a White bison. Here they had several. These were smaller than the brown buffalo we had seen so many of in Yellowstone, but still interesting to see.

White Bison

Dall Sheep

American Burro

Black Bear

The really neat thing about driving through was it allowed us to get so close to the animals. At Yellowstone, we could only observe them from a distance. But here we were mere feet away from the beasts. Not that the experience here was better than it was at Yellowstone, or worse. It was simply a different experience, and that made it worth the money we spent to get in.

But the best part was yet to come. The drive-through circuit through the park ended at a parking lot bordered by a gift shop, restrooms, snack bar, and the baby animal enclosures. There were wolf pups and black bear cubs in two exhibits set up much like those you would find in a city zoo. The wolf pups were beautiful, but they dozed the entire time we were there. The napping canines provided little in the way of entertainment. The bear cubs were a different story.

The two black bear cubs were different colors, one black and one brown, with two distinct personalities. While we were there, the black cub never stopped moving. Running or pacing from one end of the enclosure to the other most of the time, he strayed from that path only to launch a playful sneak attack on his brown cousin. The brown cub on the other hand ignored his black playmate unless such an attack occurred. It seemed to prefer entertaining itself by climbing trees, or playing with the pine saplings inside its domicile. But, once distracted by his simple toys, his black companion would soon engage.

We passed quite a bit of time here watching the two baby bears wrestle and play. If they had been the only animals in the park, it would have been well worth the money to come and watch. We took a lot of photos of the bear cubs, and the short video near the top of this post.

We could have stayed hours longer and watched the adorable, frolicking cubs. They were so much fun to watch. But one of the seven wonders of the world awaited us a short distance to the north. So we pointed our Blazer toward the Grand Canyon and moved out.

Our hike (and more) in California

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 22:42:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 9^th of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

We awoke in our tents with our vacation now back on track. Not exactly the original track, but on track just the same. We'd reserved our campsite for two days and now the plan was to make a day hike up the Summit Lake/Warren Lake trails. After a breakfast of link sausage and scrambled eggs, cooked on our now well-used camp stove, we were headed back to I-80 and the trail head.

Traveling west from Truckee, we took the Castle Peak/Boreal exit and turned left under the interstate. About 100 yards south another left at the intersection carried us to the parking area at the Pacific Crest Trail head. The weather was perfect, not too cold and not too hot. About 70⁰ Farenheit.

Since we were now only planning a day hike, gearing up was pretty simple. Lunch and extra water went into my pack and the girls got away with carrying only one small water bottle each. My wife strapped on a fanny pack with more water bottles and her camera. Finally, we marched from the parking lot to the trail.

But the snow drifts quickly made it difficult to recognize the trail. We picked our way alongside the interstate, working our way east toward the closed rest area because we knew the trail passed close to it. After a couple of hundred yards the trail still wasn't obvious and we'd yet to locate the tunnel that passed under the highway. I decided to trek back to the parking area and double check the trail map posted there before going any farther.

As I approached the parking lot, I noticed other hikers had arrived since our departure and were in the process of gearing up. After a short conversation with one of these gentlemen, we were back on our way. He had informed me we simply hadn't gone far enough. The tunnel under the freeway was about a quarter of a mile from the trail head. So we pushed on, following in our earlier footsteps. Only 50 yards or so past where we'd turned around, we spotted orange tape hanging from the trees marking the difficult to discern trail.

Apparently left by a previous hiker, remaining on course was now a certainty and we soon found ourselves at the narrow tunnel under I-80. We passed through the shaft with the roar of cars and trucks driving overhead. But soon after exiting the subsurface passage, we were once again enveloped by the peace and serenity of the mountain forest.

A short, steep slope made its way across a small stream created by runoff from melting snow and past the closed interstate rest area. There we found a sign marking the intersection of the Pacific Crest and Warren/Summit Lake Trails. Veering right, we left the Pacific Crest Trail behind.

For the most part, the trail was easier to follow here than it had been when we embarked, but snow drifts still covered large sections. So we relied on tracks of those who preceded us, but even these were few. The trail had yet to see heavy use this year and the process of melting and refreezing had helped to dissolve all but a few traces of human passage.

But, as usual, the Lord above took us under his wing. A mountain biker passed us as he made his way down the trail and his tracks were easily spotted in the snow drifts under the trees. Until the forest gave way to an open, rocky slope, we had little trouble keeping on the trail.

Once we emerged from the trees and onto a section of the trail consisting of a boulder field barren of trees, the cyclist's tracks disappeared. For the most part the trail was still easy to follow. But we did accidentally venture off course at one point.

Following what looked like the trail led across another small runoff stream, so we made the crossing. This one was a little wider and a little deeper so I stood in the near-freezing flow with water midway up my shins to assist my wife and daughters across. Taking their hands in mine, I slung them when they leaped so they could avoid wet and frozen feet.

We continued through the jumble of boulders along the apparent trail, but after 100 yards or so I became concerned because I'd seen no sign of human traffic since we crossed the stream. For the second time on our hike, I decided to backtrack, this time scouting for a possible turn we'd missed. Scouring the slope on our side of the stream, none existed. But once again, God placed His hand on my shoulder and pointed me in the right direction.

Another party of hikers, apparently much more familiar with the trail than I was, passed by and veered left just before reaching the running water we'd crossed. The turn I'd missed was before the ford! So we back-tracked and crossed in the same manner as before.

It was then we saw where those ladies turned, through a narrow slot between two boulders. Even then it didn't look wide enough to be the trail, but once we passed between the two huge rocks we soon encountered plenty of sign of two-legged passersby. We were back on the trail and back on our way.

From here the trail was easy to follow, with or without tracks, until we reached the intersection where we had to make the decision--Warren Lake or Summit Lake. It was now early afternoon and late season snows had already made it plenty difficult finding our way this far. So we decided to take the shorter path to Summit Lake.

This proved a good decision because from the intersection to the lake there was even more snow than we'd already encountered. Other hikers' tracks made it fairly easy to follow, but without them the trail would have been difficult to recognize. The less-traveled path to Warren Lake would have almost certainly been a nightmare to navigate under these conditions.

Once we arrived at Summit Lake we ate lunch on some huge boulders by the shore, then shot some photos and headed back down. With some regret I passed by the turn to Warren Lake, but that hike would have to wait for another day. As we turned back toward the trail head, I quoted General Douglas MacArthur's 1942 farewell to the Philippines uttering, "I shall return!"

We made our way back with little trouble. The trail was now familiar and the hike was all downhill. Though our hike hadn't gone as planned, and we weren't able to reach our goal, we realized God had been looking out for us. The hard winter had increased the difficulty level of the hike. The volume of snow still covering the trail would have made it hard for someone familiar with the route to navigate, but we had never traversed it. He kept us on a safer path, and still allowed us to enjoy the beauty of the northern California mountain forest.

Heading back to our campsite, I couldn't help but still feel a twinge of regret, but I now knew everything that had happened to delay and aggravate me was for the best.

We arrived back at camp with plenty of daylight to spare. My wife wanted to do a little sight-seeing so we drove south to see Lake Tahoe. We tried to find a place to park and walk along the lake, but vacant parking spaces were nonexistent late on a summer afternoon. After a few minutes in the bumper to bumper traffic, we found a place to turn around and headed back to Truckee. Then a stop at the grocery store to resupply and we headed back to camp and settled in for the evening.

The next day we repacked the Blazer and headed south. We planned to drive to Moreno Valley where we'd spend two nights in a motel and visit family in the area. The route carried us along the northeastern corner of Lake Tahoe where, this early in the morning, parking wasn't quite the scarce commodity it had been the day before. We easily found a spot to park at the state beach access and ventured closer to the water for photos.

We didn't linger long because we had about 600 miles to travel. So we headed south once again. A few miles down the road, on the eastern shore of the lake, we did stop at an overlook where my wife and I got out and followed a short path into the rocks leading toward the water. We took a couple more photos here and hiked back up to the overlook. On the way back to the parking area we found a sign explaining just how clear the lake is. It said in 1873 a white plate lowered into the water could still be seen from the surface at more than 100' deep. Lake Tahoe is certainly another of God's marvelous works of art we are blessed to enjoy in these United States.

Back on the road, we made a left turn onto US Highway 50 and headed toward Carson City, NV. We filled the Blazer's gas tank in the capitol of the Silver State and pointed our ride to the south on US 395. When we again crossed into California, there was more beautiful scenery to enjoy, but we'd have to save that for another trip. Family members were expecting us to visit the next day in the Los Angeles area. So we cruised past the sights and pushed on through the central California desert.

The stark contrast between this barren environment and the lush mountains we'd left to the north made it difficult to believe we were still in the same country, let alone the same state. Long gone were the 60⁰-70⁰ temperatures we'd enjoyed on our hike to Summit Lake. On this drive, the Blazer's outside temperature display read up to a scorching 111⁰ at times as we made our way south. The desolate landscape seemed unimpressive compared to what we'd fallen in love with earlier. At one point, after hours in the seemingly endless fiery emptiness, my daughter roused and asked "When are we going to get out of these ugly mountains?"

We finally did make it to our destination, the Comfort Inn at Moreno Valley. After a shower and a good night's sleep we would get together with my uncle who lived in town the next day. I had yet to make contact with him at this point, but my mother (his sister) had let him know we'd be in town the next day. But after supper and a shower, I gave him a call.

Once on the phone, he insisted we stay in his home. I'd already made reservations for this night and the next, and we were settled in and ready to get some sleep. Not wanting to hurt his feelings though, I agreed we'd sleep that night at the motel and cancel the reservations we had for the next. He gave me directions to his home and we agreed we'd all go to the beach the next day.

The next morning I rose early and did laundry at the hotel. The machines actually worked correctly here so the debacle in Carlin, NV a few days earlier wasn't repeated. Once the girls were up and about, we took advantage of the deluxe continental breakfast served at the Comfort Inn. Then, we were off to my uncle's house.

His directions were good so we easily located his beautiful Spanish stucco situated in the middle of a neighborhood surrounded by grassy hills so typical in southern California. It was a beautiful home with plenty of space to accommodate the four of us and my aunt and uncle. When we arrived, he was packing his van for the beach.

We unloaded our gear after the hugs and greetings that occur between relatives who haven't seen each other in a good long while. Then, a short tour of the house and we piled into his vehicle for the 70 mile ride to the coast. He chose the scenic route rather than the overcrowded parking lots (aka freeways) of the greater Los Angeles.

The Ortega Highway wound its way through the hills between our origin and destination. This narrow two-lane highway carries travelers through the Cleveland National Forest and over mountains that offer spectacular panoramic views of the valleys below. The picture below was taken from an overlook on the scenic byway above Lake Elsinore.

We finally arrived at the beach to find the weather much different than we expected. Leaving Moreno Valley, the mercury was already reading near 100⁰ by mid-morning. But a hurricane had recently passed by the Baja Peninsula and was working its way north. The tempest was impacting the weather on the coast, leaving cloudy skies and temperatures in the low 70's. Still, we had a nice picnic lunch and the girls can now say they've taken a stroll on a southern California beach.

After a couple of hours, we were all ready to head back. Once back in Moreno Valley we stopped by the clubhouse of my aunt and uncle's homeowners' association. There the weather was more conducive to sitting in the sun and swimming in the pool. That evening, the sun fell from the sky and put an end to a wonderful visit with family that I rarely ever get to see.

The next morning we rose and had a delicious breakfast, spent a few more hours with my aunt and uncle, then packed our Blazer again and headed east. We were now in the last few days of our vacation and planned to visit the Grand Canyon the next day. We crossed the blazing Mojave desert looking forward to the cool air of the Arizona mountains. Near Needles, CA the outside temperature indicator in the Blazer reached 116⁰. But then we crossed into Arizona, fueled the vehicle in Kingman, and made it to Williams where we found a room in the Econolodge.

Our adventures in California had come to an end, but dawn would break the next day and open the door to the new experiences awaiting us in Arizona.

California. Finally!

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 00:48:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 8^th of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

When we finally finished drying our clothes at the truck stop in Sparks, NV, we piled back in and pointed our Blazer west on Interstate 80. Even though we were already hours behind schedule, I still hoped to arrive at the trail head in time to start our hike and find a place to camp along the trail. But it wasn't to be.

Our destination was a hiking trail my wife and I had discovered about 15 years earlier. At that time, I was driving a truck for a living. She, I, and our two dogs all rode together in the cab of 1995 long-nosed Peterbilt. We were carrying a load of landscaping stone from Idaho to Stockton, CA and our route carried us along I-80 through Donner Pass. We stopped at the interstate rest area just west of Truckee, CA to walk the dogs. That's when we stumbled across a sign marking the hiking trail to Summit Lake and Warren Lake. From the rest area, we walked with our dogs for a little over a mile and arrived at Summit Lake.

That day, all those years ago, we didn't have enough time to continue the additional five miles to Warren Lake so we turned around and headed back to the truck. As we pulled out of the parking lot of the rest area, we swore to each other that one day, we'd return and make the hike to Warren Lake. Our trip this summer was planned to make good on that oath.

Long before we reached the rest area we'd hiked from so long ago, signs on Interstate 80 informed us the facility was closed. Fortunately, I'd done a little research the night before and knew there was another access to the path via the Pacific Crest Trail at the Castle Peak/Boreal exit on I-80, just west of the closed rest area. We arrived at the trailhead and found snow still covering much of the trail.

The sun was now sinking lower and lower in the sky. My wife suggested we abandon our plan to camp on the partially snow-covered trail and search for other accommodations that night. Reluctantly, I turned the vehicle back toward the freeway and admitted to myself our Warren Lake goal wouldn't be reached on this trip. With a long face, I resigned to return to Truckee and head south hoping to find a campground where we could pitch our tents.

Lake Tahoe lay several miles to the south and I thought we'd be able to find a place there. But only two or three miles south of Truckee on Highway 267, we passed a sign informing us a left turn would take us to a campground. As we turned off the road, we noticed a small lake to the south at the base of a north-facing wooded slope. A half-mile or so from the highway, another road intersected our path and led to the lake. A sign there indicated the road would lead to the Alpine Meadows Campground.

The campground was situated in a large clump of pines on a hill just north of Martis Creek Lake, the lake we saw on our way in. We stopped at the self-service pay station at the entrance and learned that for $16 per night, we secure any vacant site we chose. Climbing back in the car, we drove around the paved loop and realized, though primitive, the place was nice and clean with a cozy feel. We decided to pay for two nights and attempt our hike again the next day.

As usual, it turned out the good Lord had his hand on our shoulder, guiding us, the entire way. Things were now looking up, much brighter than only a few minutes before. And they'd quickly get even better. The next day when we actually set out on our hike, we'd really come to discover He had delayed us for our benefit. The long day may have interrupted our plans, but God knew what was best for us the whole time and refused to let my stubbornness get in the way.

As we drove into the campground, we noticed a small cave high on the side of the hill above the lake. Once we had our tents pitched and finished a camp stove supper of Spaghetti-O's for the girls and canned beef stew for me and my wife, she and I decided to make the short hike to the cave. Our daughters, anxious to charge their cell phones using the electrical outlets available in the primitive restrooms, chose to remain behind.

We walked back to the campground entrance and down the drive of the lake access. To skirt the body of water that separated us from the hill, we angled toward the base of the mountain of rocks and boulders that cover the Martis Creek Dam. We could have chosen to climb out of the draw to the top of the near side of the dam and walked the road that traversed it, but took the more adventurous route around the end of the lake and climbed the steep, brushy slope leading to the cave above.

The road we didn't take led across the dam and the length of the hill that held the cave we wanted to visit. But from our position on the slope, it didn't appear to lead to the cavern. So we switch-backed our way up the mountain via game trails and breaks in the brush. Then, once we'd worked our way to within 20 feet of the elevation of the cave, we saw the trail leading down the finger of our hill to the road we'd crossed on the way up.

Oh well, we took the road less traveled I guess. And we were nearly to the cave.

Now we followed the trail along the side of the hill to a point directly below the mouth of the cave. As we drew closer, the regulations regarding the storage of food in bear country I'd read at the campground came to mind. I began to wonder if we might be planning to invade the living quarters of an animal we'd rather not disturb. But we'd come too far to turn back without checking out the alluring hole in the wall of this mountain.

The trail ran along the side of the hill about 8-10 feet below the floor of the cave, but the rocks provided an easy climb into the yawning gap in the cliff above. Just to be safe, I threw several rocks into the cave from below in case some surly beast resided inside and didn't want visitors. But my thrown stones drew no response from the empty cavern.

So we climbed up and into the opening. It was nothing spectacular, not deep at all. Others had apparently been drawn to this spot judging by the tracks and markings left behind. But as we looked back across the small lake to our campground, we were glad we'd decided to make the impromptu trek.

We made our way back to the campsite as the night overtook the day. During the descent, we were blessed with seeing two otters paddling playfully across the lake. We were too far from the swimming creatures to get a decent picture, but the sight of them was yet another gift from God. Walking on, it became clear He was in total control and we were meant to pass the night here according to His plan.

The next morning we'd try the hike we had looked forward to for the past 15 years.

Don't ever stay at the Comfort Inn in Carlin, NV!

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 12:48:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 7^th of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

We departed Yellowstone National Park content with the many experiences we'd enjoyed there. Exiting the western entrance, we crossed a small strip of scenic Montana before breaching the border of Idaho.

Originally, we'd planned to drive from here to the City of Rocks National Reserve near Almo, ID. There we had intended to pass two nights camping and a day hiking. Once again, we took advantage of the flexible nature of itinerary and adapted our overly ambitious plans to spend more time sight-seeing and less time driving. Deciding to skip the City of Rocks, we chose to proceed to our next destination, northern California.

Our late start on that day's journey meant too many miles to cover in one stretch, so I made a call to Choice Hotels to find a place to stay that night. I booked a room at the Comfort Inn in Carlin, NV. That proved to be a mistake!

First, it was farther away than I realized and we didn't arrive until around 1:00 in the morning. But that was only the beginning of our first ever bad experience with Choice Hotels. Everything seemed okay at check-in, but my discontent with this hotel began to build soon after.

We entered the room and our ears were assaulted by an obnoxious and loud low-pitched buzz. Investigating, we discovered the offending appliance from which emanated the agitating sound was the small refrigerator in the room. Deciding we'd leave our perishable items in the ice chest, we unplugged the source and killed the noise. The room seemed okay after that, but we'd soon find several more reasons to discourage ANYONE from ever choosing this as a resting place for a night.

I'd forgotten something in the Blazer and went to retrieve it before turning in. I exited the elevator and entered the lobby to see another guest arguing with the desk clerk. He was angry and shouting so I couldn't help but hear his complaints as I made my way to the front door. (Remember, this is between 1:00 and 2:00 in the morning.) The other guest wanted to change rooms because whoever was in the adjacent room was throwing a loud party. The clerk informed him there was nothing he could do. He would not give the customer a different room, and he would not confront the offending occupants. There was no attempt made to satisfy the customer by the desk clerk. Customer service at the Comfort Inn of Carlin, NV was nonexistent.

Fortunately, I slept through the night without being further disturbed. But the next morning, the spark of dissatisfaction I felt for the hotel exploded to a full-fledged conflagration. I arose early because we planned to drive to Truckee, CA that night and begin a hike to Warren Lake near Donner Pass. We needed to arrive by early afternoon to pack our gear and hike in early enough to find and set up a camp site along the trail. But first, we needed to wash some clothes.

So I gathered all our dirty clothes and fed coins to the washing machine in the guest laundry at the end of our hall. My Facebook-deprived daughter and I went downstairs where I grabbed a cup of coffee and she stationed herself at the guest computer in the lobby. Once the washer had completed its cycle, I switched our clothes to the dryer. The digital display told me my garments would be ready in 45 minutes.

My wife and other daughter were now up and we all went downstairs for the deluxe continental breakfast. Though the meal was nothing special. It turned out to be the best part of our stay in Carlin. But once my daughter left the lobby computer, an apparent boyfriend of one of the hotel maids appropriated it. This didn't bother me, but the brown bag containing the bottle he was nursing did. It wasn't that he was a drinker that irritated me. It was where and when he was drinking. Early in the morning at breakfast in a hotel lobby where families with children are staying is not the place for anyone to imbibe, but especially not an employee or someone who's there with an employee!

I was completely dissatisfied with the hotel by this point, but the bad experience wasn't yet over.

Returning to the guest laundry I found the timer on the dryer nearly expired. I waited the remaining few minutes, ready to retrieve and pack our things so we could escape this disgrace of a lodging place and get on with our trip. The buzzer finally sounded and I threw open the door of the dryer. But when I grabbed the first handful of raiment, I knew we would be here a while longer yet. They were nowhere near dry. They were warm, but still soaking wet.

Wanting now only to escape this hell-hole of a hotel, and operating more on hope at this point than rational thinking, I went to the desk clerk to get more quarters to run the malfunctioning dryer one more time. With the coins in my hand, I headed back to try again. My daughter, who had remained in the lobby with hopes of getting a turn at the guest computer, rode up the elevator with me. She told me while she was waiting in lobby, the desk clerk and hotel maids were all gathered around the front desk laughing about who had been fired the week before and wondering aloud who would be fired that week. She also asked me about the boyfriend's brown bag.

I fed the so-called dryer again, but may as well have thrown the money down the drain. After another hours-long 45 minutes, our clothes were still only warm and wet. But I decided then and there we were leaving, dry clothes or no. I stuffed the still-wet garments into plastic bags and we loaded our things into the Blazer. I didn't say a word to the clerk as I handed over my key cards because he'd been so unconcerned about the guest the night before. But I swore I'd do whatever I could to warn travelers this was NOT the place to stay.

At the next opportunity on our trip, I posted the following review of the hotel on Google Maps:

This was my absolute worst experience with ANY Choice Hotel I've patronized. I exclusively use them because I previously had nothing but positive experiences. The Comfort Inn at Carlin, NV should be sold or shut down if corporate can't fix the problems.

The refrigerator in our room made an annoying loud buzzing sound all night, the guest dryer didn't dry (I wasted 2 dollars and 2 hours and still left with sopping wet clothes). The hotel staff were all loitering in the lobby in the morning, laughing about who was fired this week, and an apparent boyfriend of one of the maids was using the lobby computer while nursing a bottle of beer while breakfast was being served to guests in the same lobby.

This hotel is terrible! DO NOT STAY HERE!

When we finally freed ourselves from the clutches of this hotel from Hell, we headed west. In Sparks, NV we stopped at the Petro truck stop where we dried our clothes in machines that worked. But by the time we'd repacked our Blazer, it would be after 5:00 PM before we'd be able to reach our the trail head of our planned hike. We'd have to adjust our plans, this time due to the horrible accommodations offered by the Comfort Inn of Carlin, NV.

If you're traveling through Nevada on Interstate 80 and looking for a nice place to stay, you won't find it at this hotel!

Final Day in Yellowstone

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 19:30:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 6^th of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

As dawn broke at the end of our second night in Yellowstone, I regretted having only planned for two full days at the park. We'd experienced quite a lot since arriving the afternoon two days earlier, but we now realized we would leave the 2.2 million acre park with many of its wonders still unknown to us. Still, we looked forward to what we'd discover as we made our way to the western gate.

We roused the girls and packed our reliable Blazer once again. Today, Old Faithful was first on our list of things to do. We arrived around 9:20 am local time, only 20 minutes before the geyser's next predicted eruption. Once again our Lord was scouting our path, because we had no idea what time to expect the spout to spew when we left Lewis Lake. Once we found a parking place and made it to the ranger station, it was only a short walk and minutes to spare before the tower of water and steam was expelled from the most famous of Yellowstone's geysers.

Because it was still relatively early, the wooden walk encircling the famous geyser wasn't too crowded. When we spotted the sign pointing us in the direction of Observation Point, we couldn't resist the one mile round trip hike. Since we still had another hike planned that morning, the girls stayed behind in the lobby of the Lodge where they located an electrical outlet and seized the opportunity to charge their cell phones.

My wife and I headed down the trail to the overlook. The trail brochure we obtained at the ranger station placed this trail in the strenuous category, but that's a little misleading. Though it's a relatively steep climb of 160 feet in a short distance, the trail is good and the walk wasn't so tough I'd consider it a strenuous hike.

The overlook wasn't particularly impressive compared to what we'd already seen in the park. It more or less provided a different vantage point to view Old Faithful's eruption. But we were glad we made the climb and decided to take the long way back rather than simply retrace our steps.

The trail to Solitary Geyser added an extra half mile to our unplanned hike, but was an easy walk through the forest that led us past several other geysers and thermal features. By the time we arrived back at the lodge, our daughters' phones were charged and they were ready to move on.

Our planned hike that day was a 2.5 mile hike to Mystic Falls, a moderately strenuous hike according to our brochure. We had a little trouble locating the trail because our map showed the trail head began at the boardwalk behind Biscuit Basin. But the entire Biscuit Basin attraction was closed due to construction and the alternate trail head wasn't clearly marked along the highway. Once we realized we had passed the trail head, we studied our map more closely and realized we could access the Mystic Falls trail from the Daisy Geyser trail head on the highway. We backtracked and found the alternate entrance we'd use to access the back country of Yellowstone.

The trail to the falls offered a different kind of scenery due to the scars inflicted by a 1988 conflagration. Charred bits of logs remain scattered along the trail, giving evidence of the fire that scorched the landscape. But interspersed along the trail were gaps in the the young and surviving evergreens that offered still spectacular views of the valley through which flowed the Little Firehole River. Then we came to the falls and were aptly rewarded for the 1.6 miles we'd walked to find them.

From where we parked, the trek in to Mystic Falls covered about 1.3 miles. About half that distance down the trail, we came to a fork. A sign posted there pointed west and told us we were 0.7 miles from our destination. Beside the arrow pointing north, it said 0.7 miles to the Biscuit Basin Overlook and 1.7 miles to Mystic Falls. We followed our plan and took the westward path, but not knowing what lay on the upper trail had me intrigued.

At the base of the 70 foot falls, a mountain towered above us. From where we stood, it appeared the alternate trail back ascended about 70 feet and skirted the face.To satisfy my curiosity, I led my family through the switchbacks that climbed the steep slope of the Little Firehole River. But the trail passed by what I'd thought was the route and continued to up toward the soft, white clouds above. And it climbed, and climbed, and climbed some more.

Each time we thought we'd reached the top only to find the ascent continued, the girls wondered aloud if we'd bitten off more than we could chew. They'd convinced themselves I had gotten us lost. I knew we weren't lost, but as we climbed the steep mountain face, wondering how they would handle the inevitable descent weighed heavily on my mind.

When we reached the overlook, it was past the time we had planned to be on the highway. Our daughters were tired and somewhat agitated, ready to be back in the air conditioned Blazer and on our way. But we were still hundreds of feet above the basin floor where our vehicle was parked. In fact, we could see the Blazer from the overlook. And it appeared far enough away, the girls wondered if we could reach it by dark.

To top it off, our location on the trail was off our map. The only trail at the overlook other than the one we'd followed to get here looked to go the wrong way, apparently the same direction from which we'd come. Luckily though, a group of scouts were resting at the overlook. Their guide had been there before and knew the trail. He assured us the trail was the correct one and only deceptively appeared to lead the wrong way. We headed down.

The trail was steep and narrow, but not nearly as difficult to navigate as I'd worried it would be. Though we proceeded slowly, we made good time and had no trouble on the way down. We were back in our Blazer by 4:00 PM and on our way, headed to the west gate. We thought our adventures in the park were over, but we were wrong.

We'd learned early in our visit that wildlife could appear practically anywhere, at any time. Bison were especially common, so spotting them had ceased to impress us as it had that first day. Even close encounters had been so common that we didn't even reach for the camera now when the huge brown beasts appeared. But that would change on our way to the exit.

As we approached a herd spread across both sides of the road, we slowed to avoid ramming any that might cross. But sighting them failed to stir our enthusiasm, until we spotted the baby bison playing close to the edge of the highway. We'd seen plenty of young buffalo in the past two days, but only from afar. None had been close enough to get a really good picture. But as we drew close, the two buffalo calves crossed the road in front of us to give us a great shot.

Once again, our falling behind schedule had proved divine intervention as God used it to bless us with more impressive sightings of his creation. The calves had even seemed to draw our hike-weary teenage daughters out of their somber moods. We had been so blessed to this point, we were certain our limit of Yellowstone experience had been reached. But we'd be greatly blessed once again before we'd cross the boundary and exit the park.

About halfway between Madison and the west gate, the highway runs parallel beside the Madison River. Traveling west, the river was on our left. On the opposite bank, the terrain was relatively flat and the trees of the forest reached almost to the water's edge. The river, these trees, and the steep slope of a mountain formed a small clearing in the shape of a triangle. Directly across the river from this clearing, we encountered a parking lot on the highway. Traffic was at a standstill.

Once again, traffic on both sides of the highway had come to a halt. The east bound and west bound shoulders were lined with parked cars. One westbound pickup had even turned across the opposing lane of traffic and parked perpendicular to the edge of the roadway, completely blocking the east bound lane. A huge crowd of people who had abandoned their vehicles was gathered on the south side of the highway peering across the river with cameras, binoculars, and spotting scopes. Our time at Yellowstone told us this most likely meant a bear sighting. And our instinct was proven right when we spotted the golden glow of the grizzly gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Though we'd seen a distant grizzly the day before, this was truly a blessing from above. The Madison River was about 40 yards wide here, providing a barrier that offered an opportunity to leave our vehicle and get some really great pictures of an animal we didn't want to get too close to. We stayed for quite a spell as the beast ambled to and fro along the riverbank before moving west along the base of the rocky mountain and out of sight.

What a way to close out a visit to Yellowstone! This up close encounter with the king of the beasts that reside in this 2.2 million acre wilderness gave us a spectacular ending to a spectacular trip!

There is no doubt in my mind the hand of God was guiding us throughout our visit. When one considers arriving at any of these spots a few minutes earlier or a few minutes later would have prevented us from seeing these majestic animals, mere coincidence offers too weak an explanation for the unplanned delays that placed us in just the right place at the exact moment in time to witness these beautiful beasts.

As we exited through the west gate, I thanked God for the opportunity to visit His vast work of art we know as Yellowstone National Park.

Yellowstone, Day 2

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 11:00:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 5^th of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

The time had finally arrived! On this day, we'd make our first hike at Yellowstone. Though our teenage daughters weren't so enthused as my wife and I, our experience at the park was about to enter the next phase. But first, we needed to take care of a few things.

I had promised the girls they could begin the day with a shower, and we needed to wash some clothes. So we headed north to Grant Village, the nearest developed area to our camp site, where we could take advantage of the coin-operated showers and laundry. We passed a couple of hours here as I became ever more anxious to hit the trails. Finally, around 11:00, our chores were finished and we could head out.

The day before, during our semi-sprint to locate a place to pass the night, we had passed numerous interesting attractions in the park. One of these was Mud Volcano, located between Canyon Village and Lake Yellowstone. Our daughters weren't crazy about the idea of spending a lot of time here when the pungent odor of sulfur assaulted their sense of smell. Still, thermal features such as this were new to us so my wife and I were determined to get a closer look.

The wooden boardwalk constructed to allow visitors to work their way up and around the numerous stinking cauldrons here made the walking pretty easy. The warning signs telling us to stay on the walkway explained the dangers of falling through what might be a thin crust concealing more superheated pits just beneath the surface. Illustrations informed us of the potential for a terrible scalding death if one were to stray from the wooden planks and fall through the fragile covering of the hidden subsurface cauldrons.

By the time we left Mud Volcano, hunger pains were informing us it was past lunchtime. Not far north, but beyond the stench of sulfur, we found a crowded picnic area on the bank of the Yellowstone River. God again was looking out for us. As we pulled in, another vehicle pulled out and left us with a vacant slot. We climbed out and noticed all the picnic tables were occupied, but the outdoor diners at a nearby table soon headed for their vehicle as well.

As I busied myself preparing lunch for our crew, we were treated to yet another experience we'll likely never encounter outside the boundaries of Yellowstone. A huge bison lumbered across the highway, oblivious to the passing motorists who swerved and slammed on their brakes to avoid a collision. The gigantic beast galloped right onto the picnic grounds situated on a narrow strip of land bounded on one side by the highway and the other by the river.

Tourists began nervously standing up, apparently preparing to bolt if the animal charged. My wife and 17-year-old broke out their cameras and snapped some photos of the mass of hide and muscle on hooves when he halted his advance. Their window of opportunity didn't stay open long as the beast became agitated when he realized he'd trapped himself among the crowd of two-legged creatures occupying this practical isthmus. They retreated when the bison began dancing, swinging his head and stepping side-to-side. Then as suddenly as he entered our peaceful picnic area, he withdrew to the seclusion offered by the trees across the highway.

Once lunch was over, we hit the road for the trailhead where we would leave the highway and enter Yellowstone's back country for the first time. We had chosen for our first hike the Lost Lake Trail in the Tower Area. This is a 4 mile hike with the trailhead located directly behind Roosevelt Lodge. The trail is well-marked and easy to follow. According to the brochure we'd picked up at the ranger station, this would be a moderately difficult hike. It began with a series of switchbacks climbing roughly 300 feet up a fairly steep forested mountain side. Once we reached the top, the most difficult part of the hike was behind us.

When the trail leveled off, it joined the horse trail leading to the Roosevelt Corral and Tower Campground. We veered to the right here and continued through the forest until we emerged on the banks of Lost Lake, a small body of water nestled in a small mountain valley. The trail continued along the length of the lake and then meandered through the bottom of the valley until we reached the Petrified Tree parking area.

Though the description accompanying our trail map said this trail offered opportunity to spot black bear and other wildlife, we'd yet to spot any at this point. That would soon change but it wouldn't be bison, elk, and bears we'd see on this hike. Instead, smaller animals not shown in the girls' checklists would cross our path.

From the Petrified Tree parking area, the trail took a short but steep climb to a high meadow. As we ascended above the crowded parking lot, we spotted a badger running across the pavement below. Crossing the meadow offered beautiful vistas of the valley below. When we began the descent in the final stage of our hike, we were surprised by a red fox that came trotting down the hillside not 20 feet from us and paying us not the least bit of attention. We didn't get a picture of the fox because we weren't expecting him and didn't have the camera set correctly to shoot a quick picture. This experience taught us to always be prepared with your camera in Yellowstone.

Farther down the mountain, as the terrain transitioned from meadow to forest, a groundhog came running toward us as we approached a large pile of fallen trees. Wondering what possessed the animal to approach rather than retreat, we brought out the camera to photograph the curious spectator. That's when we noticed her babies moving about inside the tangle of trees atop which she lay watching. Her maternal instincts were stronger than her fear of humans and offered us an excellent photo opportunity.

The trail dropped off the mountain behind the Tower Junction ranger station. It emptied right into a lot crowded with small buildings, vehicles, and equipment. Here things were a little confusing because all trail markings ceased to exist once we entered this compound. But only a little confusing because we were in sight of the cabins situated adjacent to Roosevelt Lodge, where we'd embarked upon our hike. Though not certain we were on "the" trail, we made our way back to the vehicle with no trouble at all from here. Our first Yellowstone Hike was complete!

There was still plenty of daylight left, so we decided to drive the loop around the northern part of the park. We still had blessings to receive before the day would wane.

Soon after we passed Tower Junction, the road began climbing. On the left, a mountain rose above us and on the right, an expansive meadow on the floor the valley floor. The car in front of us slowed then stopped, with a long line of vehicles parked in front of it. Both lanes of traffic were blocked as people piled out of vehicles and rushed to peer into the valley below. The object that so fascinated visitors causing them to abandon their vehicles practically before they were fully stopped was far below in the valley--a black bear.

From our parking spot in the middle of the highway, through the trees along the edge of the road, the bear appeared to be thrashing around at the bottom of the long, steep slope that separated us. From outside the vehicle, a less-obstructed view showed us exactly why the bear seemed engaged in some sort of seizure-like dance. His thrashing about was occurring as he tore what appeared to be a small deer to pieces. We were observing a Yellowstone bear devouring a meal!

The bear was so far from us, our not-too-fancy camera wasn't able to get a great shot. But the black spot in the middle of the picture above is the first bear we saw in Yellowstone. This is when we learned that a bear sighting was a really big deal, even in Yellowstone. No other wildlife stopped traffic like that!

Finally, a ranger forced his way in between the cars parked on the highway and motioned to everyone to get moving. We obliged and proceeded toward Mammoth Hot Springs in the northwest corner of the park. It didn't take long before we were stopped again to photograph an awesome example of the abundant wildlife in Yellowstone.

This time, we'd halt for a monstrous bull elk. This creature dwarfed the one that so impressed us our first day in the park. He grazed only yards from the side of the road and never seemed to notice the crowd gathered to add his to their collection of photos. We didn't linger long here and moved on to see what other wonders lay in upper regions of Yellowstone.

Before we reached Mammoth Hot Springs, we stopped once more. Not for wildlife this time, but for another beautiful waterfall alongside the highway. By now, waterfalls were like buffalo to our teenage daughters. They were no longer impressed by either because we'd seen so many in our short visit. But my wife and I were still awed by these marvelous creations sculpted by the hands of our Maker. So she and I made our way to the overlook to take pictures and admire yet another beautiful gift from God.

We left there and made it to the white mountain formed by Mammoth Hot Springs before we stopped. We parked in the lot at the base of the mountain, not realizing how much of a hike it would be to tour the site. Not so far in miles, but from the bottom it wasn't obvious the boardwalk through the site climbed all the way to the top on a meandering, but often steep course. We began our ascent without realizing we'd take more than an hour viewing and photographing the beautiful pools and falls formed by another of Yellowstone's thermal features.

It wasn't until we made it almost all the way to the top that we discovered a road and parking area that would have allowed us to avoid the trek and still see the same beautiful vistas. But the walk through the thermal formations was a lot more rewarding than would have been a drive to the top, and a lot better for us too.

When we finished here, we were nearly as distant from our campsite as was possible and still remain inside the park. It was getting late so we decided to finish our loop and head back. We headed south to Norris where we turned east. According to our map, the road between Norris and Old Faithful was under construction and we could have expected long delays if we'd taken this route. So viewing Yellowstone's most famous feature would have to wait until the next day.

It was a pretty long drive, but we once we made it to Canyon we were back in now familiar territory. Driving through a large open area alongside the Yellowstone River, we were no longer amazed at the numerous bison we saw in the distance. But this drive would offer us another treat that evening, the opportunity to view our first grizzly.

Once again we were alerted to the presence of a bear by the crowd gathered to look. This time though, we pulled into a real parking area alongside the road. Scanning the distant hillside, we saw nothing but more buffalo and a herd of elk. On our side of the river, only bison grazed. We asked a fellow visitor what everyone was looking at and he explained exactly where on the opposite slope to look to see the bear.

The grizzly bear was maybe a mile distant, so a picture wasn't possible. But my family and I were able to view him through binoculars as ambled along the grassy slope above the river. Though we wished we could photograph it, we left thanking the Lord for the opportunity to see the magnificent creature and our daughters checked one more thing off their wildlife list.

We finished the drive to Lewis Lake, made supper, and settled in for the night. Our second day at Yellowstone was a long one, but God had truly blessed us with the opportunity to see so much of its beauty and so many of its inhabitants. We drifted off to sleep, wondering what wonders we'd experience on our last day in the park.

Buffalo Attacks Not-So-Innocent Tourists in Yellowstone

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 15:08:00 +0000

Here's a lesson in what NOT to do while visiting our country's beautiful National Parks. I first saw this video on Fox News and thought it important to share for the benefit of any who might be planning a visit to Yellowstone, or any other park where wildlife encounters are close and common.

Let's be clear first that nobody enters Yellowstone National Park without being warned of the danger of approaching wildlife, especially and specifically bison and bears. When we entered the park, the ranger who took our entry fee warned us. We were given maps and literature that contained such warnings on almost every page. And throughout the park, on the highways, are large yellow warning signs declaring the danger inherent in approaching wildlife.

Still, some tourists insist on ignoring the dangers. What they're thinking I don't know. But the video below should persuade any who think they're fast enough, tough enough, or invincible enough to ignore the numerous warnings.

Pay particular attention at the 45 second mark of the video and you'll notice these park visitors apparently threw a stick or similar object at the buffalo as they approached. Not only did they disobey rules and warnings against approaching the animal, they intentionally agitated the huge beast.

It's no surprise the animal charged and this woman and her friend are extremely lucky to have escaped without more serious injury.

When you visit our National Parks, heed the warnings and obey the rules. They're there to preserve the wilderness so all may enjoy it, and to protect those who don't naturally respect it.

Arrival at Yellowstone

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 13:24:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 4^th of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

We dropped down off the Beartooth Highway, enjoying the beautiful scenery as we approached the northeast entrance of Yellowstone. We were arriving a little later than I'd planned because our route demanded we drive slower and stop often to enjoy the sights. It was about 2:30 in the afternoon, local time.

Our plan was to camp at the Tower Falls Campground, the first one we'd reach coming in from the northeast. At the entrance to the park stood a large sign posting the vacancy status of all the campgrounds in Yellowstone. Most were already full, but the one I was concerned about still showed to be open. The ranger at the gate traded us a map of the park, some informational literature, and advice not to approach wildlife we'd encounter in exchange for the $25 entry fee.

That $25 covered a vehicle pass for Yellowstone and neighboring Grand Teton National Park to the south for seven days. The map showed some major attractions in the park, locations of developed areas in the park that included stores and services, and mileages between those areas. We were only about 30 miles from the Tower Area where we planned to camp. We were anxious to get there, set up camp, and start exploring.

Included in the literature we received at the gate were special packets for our girls. Specially designed to spark kids' interest in the park, these included a checklist and description of all the wildlife visitors may encounter inside the boundaries of Yellowstone. My youngest daughter read through the list: black bears, grizzly bears, wolves, coyotes, elk, mule deer, bison, and more. Finally she declared, "We're not going to see any of these!" At almost that exact instant, we spotted a buffalo grazing not 50 feet from the side of the road.

We stopped on the side of the road and took pictures as the bison continued to fill his belly with the lush, green grass. Setting up camp would have to wait because we felt the need to photograph this beast in case we saw no more. He seemed not to notice we were anywhere in the vicinity. My daughter demanded a pen so she could check off the American Bison on her list.

At that time, having just entered the park, we didn't realize just how common buffalo are in Yellowstone. Continuing on to the Tower Area we spotted several more. But now we were focused on getting to the campground.

Thirty miles in Yellowstone takes quite a bit longer to traverse than the same distance in most other places. Stopping to see the sights and navigating the twisting turns in often heavy traffic make it difficult to even average the 35-45 mph speed limits throughout the park. So what I thought would take about thirty minutes, took more than an hour. When we finally arrived at Tower Falls Campground, the sign at the entrance said "Full."

We had no idea where the next campground was that had vacancy, so we decided to proceed south to the next closest campground. The map showed the Canyon Area was only 19 miles south of Tower Junction so we headed south. That 19 miles was again, a much longer drive than it appeared on the map.

The drive skirts the western face of Mount Washburn with steep slopes on one side and sheer cliff on the other. The climb provides spectacular views that easily draw drivers' and passengers' eyes from the narrow road and hairpin turns. It's a slow go through here and traffic is extremely heavy. Not quite as spectacular as the Beartooth Highway, but still among the most beautiful drives I've ever experienced.

We arrived at Canyon Village to find the campground there full too. By now it was after 4:00 and I was beginning to think we just might not find a campsite this night. We went to the lodge at the village and inquired about a room or cabin for the night. No luck. When I asked how to find out if there were accommodations available anywhere in the park, I was pointed to the information office of Xanterra, the concessionaire contractor for the park. The company operates the lodges and several campsites throughout the park and its representative gave me a toll free number to call to check availability and make reservations.

I called the number and endured what seemed an interminable span of time on hold. As the minutes ticked by and the daylight hours waned, I was getting more and more nervous that we'd be forced to drive no telling how far to find a place to stay. The operator finally answered and informed me her company had nothing available in the park that night, but also that she had no way of checking the campgrounds operated by the National Park Service. The NPS doesn't take reservations for their campsites in the park so it's first come-first served to camp in these.

As always, my increasing nervousness did nothing to remedy our seeming dilemma. But God had His hand on our shoulder and was working to place us where He wanted us to stay that night. Finally, at the nearby ranger station I received good news. The southernmost campground in the park, Lewis Lake, still had available sites. The young ranger said it never reached capacity because people passed it by entering the park from the south. Our now indispensable map showed we still had about 45 meandering miles before we'd arrive at the only campground in the park with camping spots still available.

Though the young ranger said we had nothing to worry about, the crowded roads indicated there just might be others who had encountered the same difficulty we had. So we pushed on, passing by the wondrous views along the Yellowstone River and Yellowstone Lake without stopping for the numerous photo opportunities. We passed by the Lake Area and Bridge Bay without stopping or slowing down, now trying to beat the oncoming darkness to our prospective camp site.

But just past West Thumb, as we made the turn south toward Grant Village, we did stop. Cars were stopped on both sides of the highway, their drivers and passengers had abandoned their vehicles wherever they had found a place to park them. The crowd was lined up on the west side of the highway with cameras, binoculars, and other optical devices. As we eased south through the temporary parking lot, we saw what all these gawkers were glimpsing. Not 50 yards off the highway, lying among young 4-6 foot evergreens, was what we considered a huge elk.

His antlers still shrouded in velvet, the young bull (we later learned he was in no way huge for an elk) lounged unimpressed by the throng laymen photographers so excited by his presence. Of hundreds gathered on the side of the road, the bull seemed to be thinking, "What? You've never seen an elk before?"

Though we had yet to find a camp site, we were quite content with our first day in Yellowstone. We didn't know then, but there were still photos to be taken and sights to see this day. We climbed back in the Blazer and headed south once again, now only a few miles from Lewis Lake.

As the entrance to Lewis Lake Campground came into view, we slowed to read the sign. We knew God was looking out for us when we saw the "Open" sign and turned in. The ranger station here was closed, but just before entering the camp site loops we found a do-it-yourself register and pay station. The instructions there told us to find a spot and come back to pay and register.

Loop A was for walk-in camping only, no RV's. Since we were tent camping we turned down the drive. We found most of those sites full as we drove the entire loop, but the #1 and #2 spots we'd passed by were vacant. Investigating these sites, we discovered the #1 site was reserved for hikers or bicyclists. So we chose camp site 2A.

We set our tents up on the pad provided and I went back to the registration station, filled out the form, and paid $24 for two nights' accommodations. It was now about 6:00 pm local time, with plenty of daylight left. We needed a few supplies and Grand Teton National Park was only a few miles to the south. We piled into the Blazer and pointed it's nose toward the bottom of the globe.

Our trusty map showed the Colter Bay area had a store and lay only about 30 miles away. The drive through the southernmost part of Yellowstone and the northernmost part of Grand Teton National Park isn't nearly as scenic as what we'd already seen that day. Mostly thick evergreen forests that make it difficult to see past the shoulder of the highway. But less than 10 miles into Grand Teton, the road broke out of the forest to emerge alongside Jackson Lake. The scene of this beautiful lake with its clear, blue water nearly takes your breath away as you gaze across it to the mountains that give the park its name. Only an omnipotent, omniscient God could have designed something so beautiful.

After shooting a few pictures, we made our way on down to Colter Bay, bought a little more camp food and turned back north to settle in for the night. On the way down we'd passed by another waterfall on the west side of the road. We stopped here take more pictures. The fall was about a half mile upriver from the highway, but I spotted a trail running in that direction. While my family took pictures, I jogged up to scout this trail and found it an easy walk with an excellent close up view of the cascading water.

We arrived back in time to make supper, and my wife and I still had time for a twilight stroll along the water's edge. Though things hadn't worked out as planned, and became a bit stressful when we were forced to adjust, God had worked everything out according to His will and our needs were met. Our first fine day in Yellowstone had drawn to a close.

Drive from Black Hills to Yellowstone

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 20:19:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 3^rd of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

We left Deadwood, SD headed north on US Hwy 85 to Belle Fourche where we picked up US 212 headed west. This route carried us a small distance through the northeast corner of Wyoming then into Montana. Six miles east of Ashton, MT, in the Custer National Forest, we planned to pitch our tents in the forests' Red Shale Campground. Though a little adventure awaited us before we found reached that night's resting spot.

As we crossed the Big Sky Country, we could see ahead we were approaching a thunderstorm. We'd heard about tornadoes that struck Billings the day before, but thunderstorms are quite common in our home state of Arkansas so we pushed onward without fear. The storm was moving northeast and we were headed northwest, so I figured it was possible it could pass before we reached it. I was wrong.

As we entered the leading edge of the storm, the clouds ahead of us seemed darker and more ominous than they had from a distance. Then came the deluge. It rained and hailed harder than I'd ever experienced. As the visibility shrunk and the wind whipped with a fury I'd never seen, I slowed to a mere crawl and turned on my hazard lights. Then it really started raining, and hailing. Golf ball sized hail and rain like it was poured out in a solid sheet of water! I finally stopped the car when I couldn't see the hood, stopped right in the middle of the road.

The good Lord was looking out for us though. In those wide open spaces, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, He arranged it so that we stopped right in front of the driveway of a ranch. After a few minutes, when the rain slackened and we could just make out the driveway, my wife directed me off the road as I backed our Blazer into the drive. Then, after what seemed like hours but was more likely about 15-20 minutes, the storm diminished to an intensity more like we were accustomed to. Another car drove slowly by our parking spot and we pulled out and followed.

That adventure was over, but we were then blessed to see a beautiful double rainbow when we emerged from that most terrible tempest. Once again, we were off to find our campsite.

Red Shale Campground in Montana's Custer National Forest is a primitive campsite. There's no running water, no electric hookups. The road in and the site pull ins are dirt and gravel but there is a picnic table at each site. There were six sites in the loop where we camped. One vault toilet sat in the middle of the loop. The grass wasn't cut and grew quite tall, but made for an excellent cushion under our tents. Though we enjoyed the rustic feel and beauty of this secluded and underutilized campground, those who require more contemporary amenities may not enjoy a night spent here.

We arose early the next morning and started on the now ~450 mile journey to Yellowstone. Between us and Billings, MT lay the Battle of the Little Bighorn National Monument. As we pulled off the highway and up to the gate, we were a little disappointed to see the gate didn't open for more than an hour. We had risen a little too early it seemed. Because we had a long drive still ahead of us and all of my research told us arriving late at Yellowstone may preclude us from finding a place to stay, we moved on without visiting the monument. That will have to wait until our next visit to this area.

We left the locked gate in our rear view mirror and pushed on to Billings. Mapquest results for a route from Rapid City, SD to Yellowstone told us to stay on I-90 all the way to Livingston and drop down on US Hwy 89 to the northern entrance to the park. But the atlas promised a scenic drive if we remained on US 212 through Red Lodge and Cooke City and entered Yellowstone at the northeast gate. But we were surprised to discover just how scenic a drive could be.

The route took us on the Beartooth Highway, which Charles Kuralt called "the most beautiful drive in America." After traversing the switchbacks that seemed as if they'd never reach the top, I must say the CBS correspondent may well be correct. The views are so stunning, it's difficult to keep your eyes on the road. With sheer cliffs on the uphill side of the road, the only thing between your vehicle and the beautiful abyss on the downhill side is a guardrail that at times seems a woefully inadequate barrier if one were to miss a curve or veer toward the fantastic scenery.

The Beartooth All-American Road passes through the Beartooth Corridor. It is one of the highest and most rugged areas in the lower 48 states, with 20 peaks reaching over 12,000 feet in elevation. In the surrounding mountains, glaciers are found on the north flank of nearly every mountain peak over 11,500 feet high. The Road itself is the highest elevation highway in Wyoming (10,947 feet) and Montana (10,350 feet), and is the highest elevation highway in the Northern Rockies.

Source: http://www.beartoothhighway.com/

But we didn't fall off the edge as we climbed and climbed and climbed some more. When we finally reached the pinnacle, we found the road under construction. At the top, we found ourselves in a veritable winter wonderland with snow in places twice as deep as the Blazer was high. Fortunately, the trek down was more gentle, the drop offs neither so sheer nor so deep. The beauty was just as intense as a light rain mixed with snow fell on that late June afternoon. As we descended the final miles toward Yellowstone National Park, we saw our first waterfall at a place we couldn't get off the road. But not far from it, we found another with parking areas where we took pictures. Even in the rain, the scenery was stunning all the way to the park.

If you've never driven the Beartooth Highway, you're missing one impressive masterpiece sculpted by the hand of God. The pictures don't do justice to the breathtaking panoramic vistas. This drive is one I'd recommend everyone take before his time on this Earth is up.

Our Tour of the Black Hills of South Dakota

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 15:33:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 2^nd of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

After spending the night in a nice campsite at Webster State Park in Kansas, we repacked our 2001 Chevy Blazer and headed north. Though we drove across a large part of Nebraska, we only stopped for gas in that state. Our goal was to make Rapid City, SD where we planned to stay the night.

Webster State Park Campsite in Kansas

We had reservations for one night at Sleep Inn & Suites, where we enjoyed a spacious, comfortable room and a Deluxe continental breakfast the following morning. Including all applicable taxes, the room cost us $141.95. That's a lot more than the $12 it cost us the four of us to spend the night in the Kansas campground the previous night, but we had previously decided that a comfortable bed, hot showers, and breakfast we didn't have to cook on a camp stove would be worth the increased expense every few days. This proved to be a wise decision with unforeseen benefits as well because we were traveling with two teenage daughters. An electrical outlet to charge their cell phones was perhaps the most welcome amenity the hotel offered them, and the free wireless internet ran a close second.

We had originally planned to wake the next morning, repack our faithful Blazer, visit Mount Rushmore, then hit the road headed to Yellowstone National Park. But we were once again thankful for our flexible itinerary after we perused the brochures for tourists in the hotel lobby. There was so much to see and do in the nearby Black Hills, we decided to spend the day exploring. That night I searched for and found a campground in Montana where we'd be able to spend the following night en route to Yellowstone.

This change in plans proved prudent and provided a far more enjoyable day than we'd have experienced had we proceeded with our planned 600 mile drive to Yellowstone that day. We were able to see Mount Rushmore and more!

Rushmore was far more impressive than it ever appeared to me in pictures. A $10 parking fee allowed all four of us to enter the park. We took several photos (see below) and spent $38 on souvenirs from the gift shop. There's a hiking trail along the base of the mountain monument that we didn't take advantage of because we weren't prepared for hiking. Had I spent a little more time researching the park and discovered the trail's existence, we'd have worn proper footwear and traversed that trail. I guess that experience will have to await a future visit.

Mount Rushmore

We had picked up a map marked with attractions in the Black Hills from our hotel lobby the night before. When we left Mount Rushmore, we headed for the Crazy Horse Memorial. Arriving at the entrance to the monument we learned this would cost us $27 ($10 per person or $27 for a carload). Because the monument wasn't even completed, because we'd just visited Rushmore for a total of $10, and because we planned to see and do more that day, we passed on paying the $27 and turned around at the gate. The picture below shows a profile view of the monument taken from the gate, but that's as close as we got. We may return and visit in the future, when the monument is complete and hopefully the price is more inline with nearby Mount Rushmore.

Crazy Horse Memorial

Not far down the road we stopped at Thunderhead Falls, an old gold mine with a waterfall inside. For $6 each, we gained entrance to the man-made cave gouged out of the side of the mountain. Though the tour was self-guided, a short recording told the history of the mine before we entered. The 600 foot horizontal shaft was carved out over the course of twenty years. Visible inside the cave are the scars of the drill bits. Black powder was packed into the hand-drilled pockets and ignited to shatter the solid rock to be combed for the gold that would sustain the owners of the mine for the two decades it operated. Finally, at the end of that twenty years, their last blast brought down the cascade of water that would force them to abandon the mine. The water from above turned the floor of the mine into a small but fast-flowing river that prevented further excavation. Our daughters were more impressed by the semi-tame chipmunks that scurried around close to the mine entrance than they were by the mine or the waterfall inside. There were picnic tables in the shade at the parking area so we stopped here to eat sandwiches with sounds of the nearby river and a waterfall providing background music.

Thunderhead Falls

Outside the Mine

Inside the Mine

We next drove just a few miles down the road to Black Hills Caverns where we paid $9.75 each for a one-hour guided tour of the caverns. If you like caves, this is an excellent attraction. You have to duck often as many of the passages have low-hanging rock overhead. Some passages are quite narrow and there are a lot of steps. The tour descends nearly 250 feet below the surface before you head back up and out the same place you entered. The interior of the caves aren't as scenic as some of the more famous caverns around the country, but we felt the tour was worth the price of admission. What the cave lacked in scenic beauty was made up for by the stories of previous spelunkers' mishaps told by the tour guide. If you're physically up to the trek, this is an enjoyable subsurface hike.

Black Hills Caverns

We left the caverns and headed for our last stop in the Black Hills. Deadwood, SD. The mining town famous for the death of Wild Bill Hickock and the life of Calamity Jane. We enjoyed our visit, but it wasn't exactly what we expected. Though the architecture on main street had an antique feel, there was little to see aside from casinos. We entered the Number 10 Saloon, which had a section supposedly built with the same floor plan as the original where Wild Bill was murdered.

Main Street, Deadwood

We took our pictures in front of the fireplace where Hickock was supposedly shot in the back of the head. A little later we realized no one was really sure if that was the ACTUAL location where the Bill died. Walking down the other side of Main Street, we came upon a sign claiming to mark the REAL location of the original Number 10 Saloon where Hickock met his fate. We later learned that several fires had destroyed the town in the years since that fateful day when a bullet from Jack McCall's pistol put Deadwood on the map forevermore. We may never know with certainty the exact location, but the town thrives today as tourists like us come to see where the famed gunfighter fell.

Number 10 Saloon, Deadwood

We then drove to Mount Moriah Cemetery on the hill above Deadwood. For only one dollar each, we received admission to the Cemetery and a map marking the locations of graves of notable Deadwood citizens. Wild Bill and Calamity Jane's grave sites, side-by-side, were obviously the most visited. Many of the names on the map meant nothing to us, but still the cemetery offered an interesting glimpse into the history of the Old West. The cemetery had a section for veterans, a section where victims of the epidemics of 1878-1880 lay, and a Chinese immigrants section. A plaque in front of the latter informed us those immigrants were later disinterred and shipped back to their home villages in China for burial. Finally, we trekked to the grave of Seth Bullock.

Mount Moriah Cemetery, Deadwood

Wild Bill Hickock's Marker

Calamity Jane's Marker

Veteran's Section

Deadwood Overlook at Mount Moriah Cemetery

Chinese Immigrants' Section

Seth Bullock's Grave High Above Mount Moriah Cemetery.

The map showed his grave far outside the boundaries of the cemetery proper, a distant hike and a steep climb far above the graves of the rest of Deadwood's deceased. We wondered why this man (and his wife) were so far removed from the other eternal residents of Mount Moriah. I'd never heard of Seth Bullock, so I didn't know if this was to honor the man or a post-mortem exile of sorts. It wasn't until after we returned from vacation and I had time to research Bullock that I discovered the reason this was chosen as his final resting place. Bullock was a good friend of President Theodore Roosevelt. When Roosevelt died, Bullock erected a monument to honor the fallen President high upon the hill on the other side of Deadwood Gulch. Bullock's grave site, so far removed from the others at Mount Moriah, offered a clear view of the monument to his friend at the time of his burial. Now, almost 100 years later, the trees covering the hillside block the view. And now I know the next time we travel to Deadwood, we'll make the climb to see the Friendship Tower, Bullock's memorial to Roosevelt.

The next stop on our vacation would be Yellowstone National Park, but that was ~600 miles down the road. That 600 miles provided quite a bit of scenery and a little adventure, so our next article will chronicle our trip from the Black Hills to Yellowstone.

1st Stop: Fort Larned, Kansas

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 19:05:00 +0000

NOTE: This is the 1^st of a multi-part series chronicling my family's two week vacation in the summer of 2010.

For links to the entire series, click here.

Because my oldest daughter will be 18 and graduate high school next year, we wanted to see and do as much as possible on what may have been our last opportunity to vacation together as a family. Therefore, I tried to plan our route so that one day of driving would bring us to something interesting to see or visit. It just so happened that Fort Larned National Historic Site in Kansas was about 600 miles, or one day's drive, from home.

"Some could say Fort Larned acted as a buffer between the white man and Plains Indian Tribes inhabiting the prairie region of the United States.

Its job began with protecting the U.S. Mail along the Santa Fe Trail. Traffic on the Santa Fe Trail began to decrease in the late 1850’s and early 1860’s but increased after the Civil War. In the late 1860's settlers, ranchers, and farmers came to this area to start a new life for themselves, disrupting the hunting grounds of the various tribes in the area led to many confrontations.

...Read more at the National Park Service website

Our plan was to drive the 600 miles, camp in a little parking area at the entrance to the fort, and tour the fort early the next day. A couple of things caused us to alter those plans.

First, the temperature in central Kansas was hovering near 100⁰ when we arrived around 4:30 that afternoon. Second, the parking area I'd seen on Google Earth was inside the gate of the Fort, a gate that closed before dark.

So we decided to tour the fort that afternoon and drive a little further to find a place to camp. Our atlas revealed Webster State Park lay a couple of hours north along the route we planned to take the next day. The park had campgrounds alongside Webster Reservoir and looked inviting.

We'll take a look at Fort Larned, then move on to describe our camping experience at Webster State Park.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this fort along the old Santa Fe Trail is that it had no walls. Playing back all the old western movies I've seen that showed forts, they were all characterized by a wall. But this fort was built inside a bend of the Pawnee River, providing a natural defense against attack on 3 sides. A low berm was constructed along the fourth side, facing the open prairie, which would provide a defilade position for troops to defend the fort in the event of attack.

The buildings are arranged in a square surrounding a large, open parade ground. The buildings' stone walls appear approximately 24 inches thick, broken by firing ports/windows every few feet. Another surprise awaited us as we stepped out of the scorching Kansas sun and into the various buildings of the fort. Though the buildings lacked air conditioning, it was shockingly cool inside each of the buildings we explored. Those firing ports served a dual purpose, to ventilate the edifices utilizing the seemingly constant stiff breeze blowing across the prairie.

In several of the buildings, volunteers dressed in frontier garb served as park interpreters. Friendly and welcoming, they described the purpose and history of the buildings they manned to give the fort a sort of lived-in feel. These wonderful folks helped me accomplish one of my secondary missions of this vacation, which was to expand my daughters' education of American history.

Fort Larned proved an extremely interesting place to visit. A fort that is almost restored to its frontier state, it gives visitors a unique look at the daily living conditions of US soldiers who protected settlers seeking their fortunes in the old west. Here are some photos so you can get a peek at this piece of American history.

NOTE: Some of the pictures in this album have a date stamp of 2039. That's because my daughter had the date on her camera set incorrectly. We didn't travel into the future, just the settings on her camera were off.

The Barracks

Volunteers in the enlisted barracks

18th Century enlisted infantry uniforms

18th Century entertainment system

Fort hospital

No private rooms here

Hospital latrine

Bathtub

Pharmacy

Inside the Block House (Stockade)

I don't know what one had to do to be sentenced to time in this box, but it must have been bad. There was only enough room to stand. You couldn't kneel, crouch, sit, or even squat. The box was just outside the block house in the blazing hot Kansas sun. I doubt seriously crimes punished in this manner were oft repeated.

Buildings and Grounds

Parade Ground

School/Library

Single Officers' Quarters (Being Renovated)

Welcome Center & Hospital

Storehouse

Inside the store

Married Officers' Quarters & Commander's Quarters

The building on the left is the married officers' quarters and the one on the right is the post commander's quarters.

Though we arrived about 4:00, the staff and volunteers stayed past their 4:30 closing time so we could explore the fort. If you have any interest in the history of the American West, or the Army, Fort Larned National Historic Site provides an interesting and enjoyable stop on a trip through central Kansas. To top it all, there's no admission fee.

I would suggest arriving earlier in the day than we did, so you explore the fort without feeling the need to rush.

We left Fort Larned after it closed and drove on to Webster State Park. We camped that night and left the next morning headed for Rapid City, SD. My next post will describe our day in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

2010 Western States Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 19:50:00 +0000

Over the next few weeks, I'll be writing about the vacation my wife, two daughters and I took this summer. Our trip spanned two weeks, 5500 miles, and twelve states (though some of those states we only passed through en route). Highlights of the trip were two days in Yellowstone National Park, a day spent in the Black Hills which included a visit to Mount Rushmore, a day hiking in Northern California near Donner Pass, and a day at Grand Canyon National Park.

2010 Western States Vacation Posts
Part 1: 1st Stop: Fort Larned, KS

Part 2: Our Tour of the Black Hills of South Dakota

Part 3: Drive from Black Hills to Yellowstone

Part 4: Arrival at Yellowstone

Part 5: Yellowstone, Day 2

Part 6: Final Day in Yellowstone

Part 7: Don't ever stay at the Comfort Inn in Carlin,
NV!

Part 8: California. Finally!

Part 9: Our hike (and more) in California

Part 10: Bearizona!

Part 11: Grand Canyon!

Part 12: It had to end

We left Cabot, AR about 5:30 AM on June 19 with plans to make it Ft. Larned, KS. We planned to camp there and drive the next day to Rapid City, SD where we would get a motel room. The next day we intended to drive to Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming and camp, hike, then camp again. Our plan was to then drive the next day to the City of Rocks National Park in Idaho where we would again camp, hike, and camp. Our itinerary then called for us to drive to Reno, NV where we would stay in a motel and hike the next day near Donner Pass. That afternoon, we planned to drive to Southern California, outside of LA, where we would spend two nights in a motel and visit with family in the area. We then planned to drive to Grand Canyon National Park where we would camp and hike before heading back to Arkansas.

All in all, the plan was a little too ambitious and we adapted it to have more time sight-seeing in between all the driving. But, we enjoyed the trip so much we plan to do something similar (although with far less driving) every year from now on. God truly blessed us with a beautiful country. We photographed so much of it that I wanted to share the experience.

Though these first several posts will detail parts of this trip through the American West, my family and I live in Arkansas. Our state is blessed with a multitude of state and National Parks that my wife and I plan to explore in the future. So between our summer trips to other states, I'll post some of our Arkansas exploits as well.

It is my hope that others will be encouraged or enabled to enjoy God's natural beauty through reading this blog. This two week vacation cost less than $2500 (not counting reusable gear and equipment for hiking and camping). So part of the reason I want to share our experience is to let people know that exciting vacations are available in this beautiful country of ours at a reasonable price.

This was the first vacation of this type I've ever been able to take with my wife and daughters, and it was fantastic. My daughters are 16 and 17, so my wife and I knew we'd better take them this year or we may never get another chance for the four of us to travel together. Because of this, we may have been a little too ambitious in planning this trip. We spent a lot of time driving that could have been used to see more of God's beauty in these United States. Still, we thoroughly enjoyed the trip.

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noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 15:51:00 +0000

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America, the Beautiful! Gift Shop

noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 17:01:00 +0000

Great gifts for the nature lovers you know!

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Design personalized gifts at Zazzle.

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noreply@blogger.com (John M. Allison III) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 00:54:00 +0000