eCommerce on a Shoestring

There are many tools available for fledgling eEntrepreneurs to build Internet storefronts, complete with shopping carts, at reasonable costs.

One way to do this is to use a combination of GoDaddy and PayPal. A storefront of up to five web pages selling up to twenty products can be constructed for an annual fee of from $60 to less than $200, depending upon the selected features. As you would expect, the number of web pages and products can both be expanded for additional fees.

The age-old problem of letting customers know that you have a product for sale still exists with this method. You can build a storefront with no knowledge of HTML or scripting languages. But there is still the monumental struggle of finding ways to get prospective customers to see your storefront in a sea of tens of millions of domain names.

I’ve written an essay (too long for the blog) that illustrates how to build the storefront. It also minimally addresses the promotion problems. If you would like a free copy, click this to go to the download page.

Technorati Tags:ecommerce, inexpensive, shopping cart, storefront, godaddy, storefront

He's Stupid

“…Bill Clinton is an idiot…” “…George Bush is too stupid to be President…” “… police are pigs…” How do you feel about these statements? I’m very uneasy when I come across personal attacks.

It’s a lazy method of expression. We seem to fall into two groups on things we support and things we don’t and each of us moves between the groups. Group one honestly expresses considered opinions about actions and policies. The other group just provides the background noise.

It takes some effort to do a little research and to reach down deep to decide how you stand on an issue. And then it takes some courage to express that opinion in a group that seems to think otherwise. Honest debate could spring up if more of us would try doing just that, though we might risk some ridicule. But, then, isn’t getting a right to the jaw for a good argument preferable to false praise for mindless chanting?

By the way, if you don’t agree with this, you’re a stupid pig.

Technorati Tags:opinion, debate, peer pressure, controversy

A Quote

I ran across the following quote:

“I cannot think that we are useless or God would not have created us. There is one God looking down on us all. We are all the children of one God. The sun, the darkness, the winds are all listening to what we have to say.”

Sounds familiar and friendly. Yet in the first sentence there’s the suggestion of persecution. Then after declaring a belief in one God who is parent to all, it ends with a mystical quality.

Among other things, the speaker had a ruthless side. When his group was without, he thought it proper to raid others for food and supplies. And this was considered proper among his people. He was also a great warrior, applying guerrilla techniques successfully against superior forces. This could describe many who we’ve read about. Geronimo, an American of the Apache tribe, was the speaker.

The quote and the background combine into a complex personality. Aren't we all?

Technorati Tags:geronimo, indian, native american, warrior

Voting Machines

My last voting experience was both fun and scary. I saw the touch screens as soon as I walked in.

At first there was a sinking feeling because the punch cards were gone. There was something solid and dependable about pushing on that pin until the chad finally gave way. Then Florida had problems and we learned that chads could be pregnant and might even hang. I never worried about the pregnancies because I’ve always rammed the pin to the hilt. But knowing that they might hang caused me to start looking in the hole to see if the chad fell. I could never tell. No more worrying about chads with the touch screens.

So I approached the table with a sense of relief. Then the first poll worker asked for my ID. My ID pictures have always looked like caricatures of Charley Weaver so I thought for sure that security would be called. I passed and was feeling good again. But the worker at the end of the table handed me something that looked like a credit card and declared, to my puzzled look, that I had used it before—I missed the primary but couldn’t bring myself to admit it to the worker. So now I had to figure out which edge goes in first and which side is the business side—it usually takes me the full four tries at a new card reader.

It turned out that I wasted my time in line figuring out how to hold the card. Rather, I should have been watching where the voters ahead of me inserted their cards. All of the gas pumps and ATMs have the slider or slot in some immediately obvious place. Not these machines though and I almost panicked. There was nothing that looked like a place for the card anywhere in sight. If I left the line, people behind me would rush to fill the hole and I would face the wrath of the unhappy worker who gave me the card. If I looked around, they would think I was cheating. But, without moving my head, I did look. No good, everyone was already voting. So I tried laying the card on various surfaces, again, no good. Finally, I saw it. It was at the extreme-right-back of the machine and down in a hole. This design must have been outsourced to a country that never holds elections!

With the card inserted, the voting when well. All the selections were understandable and I was done in no time. But there was one final concern. While in line, I noticed that the last machine was plugged into the next to the last machine and so on. The first machine was then plugged into the wall with the cord strung across the path I needed to walk to return the card. If I tripped over that cord, the whole precinct would go down and all those lawyers waiting to pounce would blame me.
Whew! I made it past the cord, turned in my card like an old pro and headed for the car.

chads
punch cards
touch screens
voting
voting machines

A Special Veterans' Day

This Veterans’ Day was special. My dad, an old soldier of the Greatest Generation faded into history.


Born in a time foreign to me, he came of age in an era of upheaval and uncertainty. He was raised on stories of the First great-war, during a time when the country was growing by leaps and bounds and approaching a very dark period of soup lines and joblessness. This is a life I’ve never known and have only caught glimpses through the tales of others.

He was a tender fourteen when Black Tuesday ushered in a period so terrible, discouraging and tenacious that only the Second great-war would bring it to an end. Dad had dropped out of school by that time worked as he could to help the family.

Three years into the Great Depression, a desperate nation gave FDR a landslide victory. The Civilian Conservation Corps was instituted during the first “Hundred Days”. That same year, he started the Fireside Chats. Both had a profound effect on dad. He never tired of telling us of both. The Fireside Chats delivered encouragement. The CCC delivered hope by enlisting thousands of unemployed youth to combat the problem of soil erosion and declining timber. They were eventually credited with planting three billion trees. Dad signed onto the CCC effort and headed west. These were the years and events that brought him to manhood.

He was married and just above draft age when we knew that we would become entangled in the war. Driven by his commitments and beliefs, he enlisted in the Army. He became a combat medic and served with the 692nd Tank Destroyer Battalion in the Northeast Europe Campaign. I can’t imagine the terrors of combat—daily seeing and facing death. Dad didn’t talk of the war for a good twenty years. When he did start, he told us of acts of kindness of both civilians and combatants. Later, we started to hear some of the grimmer tales. How these events must have shaped these members of the Greatest Generation. These men and women changed our society after the war. They went to college in record numbers, spearheaded businesses and became an energetic and productive force in all facets of our society. These few years in combat affected them for life.

Dad’s path wasn’t through college or as a captain of business. Rather he trained to become a masseur and also became a rubber worker. He worked both of those jobs until he retired at 65. Retirement ended up just meaning that he no longer made tires. Massage was his devotion until his first stroke at 89.

His optimism and continual encouragement affected hundreds. During the funeral service many of these people, young and old, told of his bright and encouraging spirit. Gads (one of his favorite expressions), what an example for all of us to follow.

Bye dad.

What's in a Name?

Our recent trip out west made me think about the name “Indian”. From Rapid City, South Dakota through New Mexico and Arizona, I didn’t see much of the term “Native American”. Our tour guides, the Trading Posts and the Crazy Horse Memorial’s Indian Museum of North America overwhelmingly used the term Indian. It got me to thinking: what’s this all about?

This problem isn’t entirely new to me. Until my first trip to Canada, I glibly referred to myself as an American. That ended when I paused at the Canadian border gate and asked the attendant where I could convert my American money. He pulled out some Canadian bills and informed me that “this” was American money too. Wow, now I was nervous about what to call the money in my pockets. I quickly settled on “US money”.

With that settled, I started doubting all of it. Should I now think of myself as a “US-er"? It’s just not fair. All the other countries in this hemisphere have sensible names like Mexico and Argentina. What in the world were our founders thinking? They must have been so concerned about life, liberty and the pursuit… that they paid no attention to the name. We ended up with great founding documents and a clumsy name.

It all started innocently enough. We start with a collection of names like Virginia and New York and yearn for the simplicity of calling the whole group by one name. Well, I guess the United States was a functional start—must have been an engineer or a German. We then realize that there may be other “United States” in the world so we quickly add that this group is in the Americas (I’m surprised we didn’t go for the United States of North America). Since none of us like to say too many words when referring to something, it was quickly abbreviated to America. And there you have it—the problem.

A similar thing seems to have happened to the American Indian—although this one’s somewhat reversed. Legend has it that Christopher Columbus coined the description. He had no idea that he’d just met people divided into many tribes throughout the Americas. This could have been a quite handy mistake for the rest of us. Had he known that he’d just met members of the Taino tribe and then had gone on to become of aware of the Tekesta and the Jeaga and so on, he may have come up with a Rube Goldberg concoction like the US of A. So serendipity simplified things for us right at the beginning.

But there were problems. The real Indians, from India, started moving to the Americas to run motels and become physicians. So now we have a problem. How do we distinguish between these two peoples? And that’s only the beginning because some Indians are from the East Indies, the West Indies and even the Indian Union. Columbus started out doing us a favor but only if he had come up with some name that wasn’t already in use! I understand that the Australians (who always beat us out of the Cup*) are so glad that some Indian sailing south to get to Russia didn’t accidentally discover the Aborigines. They would have been dubbed Russians. The upside is that, like us, the Aussies may have been too busy to pay any attention to the Cup.

Growing up as a US-er, I heard of the Indians-of-the-Americas first. Therefore they were the real ones. When I heard of the others I knew we were in trouble. But later, the learned among us came up with “Native American” and I thought that we had a solution. The learned then told us that not only was this convenient but that we must change our ways because the term Indian was pejorative and that the Choctaw and the others didn’t want to be called Indians.

With this new term, US of A became comprised of the Native Americans, the Indians and the rest of us. But the learned went on to tell us that we all had to become “something American”. This meant we had Native Americans, Indian Americans, Bhutan Americans and so on. Oh no, now we’re back to complicating. Everyone has two names and the Native Americans might end up with two different “something American” names. To make it even more complicated, we find that the Native Americans aren’t native at all but had simply come here before everyone else. I don’t know where they came from, maybe Siberia. If so how do we distinguish the Siberian Americans (formerly Indians) from the real Siberian Americans. Have we come full circle?

Oh and to make a short story long, I found a Hong Kong Canadian who exchanged my money.

_________________________________________________________________
* Coincidence? The rise of Political Correctness and the Australian upset in the America’s Cup was both in the early 1980s.

In Thinking Back

I would like to share some thoughts in looking back at our trip. This was our first trip out west and the first extensive driving trip. We both immensely enjoyed the experience.

We have seen and experienced a great deal taking this trip. It is very apparent that we have traveled a very thin line through fifteen states and saw an insignificant percentage of the people. A trip like this, therefore, is solely for the satisfaction of seeing new sights and meeting new people. Although a satisfying adventure, it is also discouraging to realize how little of the U.S, and the world, one can hope to see in an entire lifetime. I think of how various presidential candidates have gotten a great deal of satisfaction out of meeting so many people. This trip gave us a small glimpse of that and also a realization of how many others they weren’t exposed to. It made me wonder if they realized that they’re probably seeing the same people at each of the many stops. Casts aspersions on thinking that you know what the country’s thinking.

This trip was during a political campaign season. We saw quite a few political ads. The overwhelmingly common thread in all of the states was the negative ad. Some time ago a policy was instituted attaching a statement of approval at the end of an ad. I had high hopes that the “I approve…” statement would pressure the candidates into describing what they hoped to accomplish. Apparently there is no shame.

We saw gasoline prices ranging from $1.95 to $2.79. I couldn’t see a pattern. Didn’t seem to be related to small or large towns or close to or far from an interstate. We missed out on the low one but did get a tank full of the high one.

This trip reminded me that this country is strong because of the freedom it provides and the diversity of the people. The freedom to drive across state lines unchallenged, to move wherever we like, to attempt to find opportunities of our liking, etc. We have a more diverse population than anyplace else on Earth. Think of the possible extremes: a self-sufficient farmer in Wyoming, a homeless person in a large city, etc. Providing governance for all us requires compromise and an end to the “scorched earth” policy on every issue that we’ve seen predominate over the past many years.

Of all of the wonderful sites I’ve seen, I never tire of the thrill of cresting a hill and seeing a massive basin unfold before my eyes. Sometimes containing a teeming city, sometimes an expanse of desert or prairie.

As much as I love the sight of all of the wonders I’ve seen, I would still like to live at the seashore and visit the others.

Kingston

This morning we drove to Kingston, Tennessee. We’ve seen all stages of Fall on this trip. Sometimes going forward, often backwards. Today we saw Fall in full color. The wooded hills of the Smokies was splendid.

We visited for a short time with Dennis at Morrison Hill Christian Church. Afterwards, we drove to Farragut, met Cindy and had lunch at the Mellow Mushroom. We had Greek Salad and Calzones and talked about the trip and got caught up with what they’ve been doing lately. A good time.

The car headed north and the good weather of early in the day gave way to rain and it rained most of the way home. This has been a wonderful trip and we are both grateful for having flawless weather until the last day and no accidents.

We’ll be spending the night at home.

The Clinton Presidential Library

Our first rainy day. We are so grateful that we had no weather problems before now. It started raining shortly after we left Elk City and came down wall-to-wall all day. The sad part is that it removed the dirt from our Kaibob forest drive.

Our only stop today was at the Clinton Presidential Library in Little Rock, Arkansas. This was an easy one to find. It was well marked and the drive through Little Rock was pleasant. We liked the town with the river running through it and light traffic.

We were greeted as soon as we entered. The greeter explained what we were about to see and then directed us to security. Being old folks, they let both of us in for only ten dollars. We went the extra three dollars for the audio tour apparatus—I recommend it. Before going upstairs, President Clinton’s limo is on display in a mocked up street seen.

At the next level we were again greeted and advised to start the tour with an introductory movie. It was good. Narrated by President Clinton, it quickly covers his early life, meeting Hillary, politics in Arkansas and then the presidency. He tells of the dreams he had for the country at the beginning of his presidency and then goes on to describe the highlights. Quite good and a lot packed into just twelve minutes.

The walls of the outside of the theater are covered with photos from both campaigns. As always, it’s surprising to see how young everyone looks. The photos were well selected to capture the emotions at the high and low points.

There are mock-ups of both the Cabinet Room and the Oval Office. We were able to sit at the Cabinet Room table with an interactive terminal at each seat. The terminal provides a guided tour through his critical decisions and how they were made. The Oval office can only be viewed from the doorways but is impressive and sobering.

Also on this level are a row of panels in the center of a hall presenting video and pictorial summaries of each year of his presidency. Behind these panels are letter written to and by the President. My favorite was from one of my heroes, Mother Theresa. The outside walls surrounding the panels are lined with topical achievements: Science, Health, etc.

We moved up to the top level and saw various exhibits. One contained memorabilia from throughout his life. These were gifts, like a bike from Lance Armstrong, and personal items like his saxophones. There is also an exhibit of his current ongoing work. This level also includes a changing exhibit. The current one is of western film stars and events. These brought back many memories.

It was an enjoyable experience. I hope to visit other presidential libraries.

We then moved on and were rained out of our Memphis agenda. With rain and predicted rain, we decided not to wait. We’re spending the night in Cookeville, Tennessee.

Oklahoma City

Another beautiful day. We haven’t had a bad weather day on this entire trip. The car again headed east through Oklahoma. Somewhere east of Oklahoma City the terrain became very similar to parts of Ohio. The trees went from evergreens to mostly deciduous and fall was just starting. The rolling, tree covered hills brought the horizon in to the usual ten miles, or so, we’re used to seeing in Ohio. At these lower elevations, the clouds appear way up there again. The familiar is comfortable but we miss the big sky and the low clouds.

Also east of Oklahoma City we visited a “Quilt Barn”. We explored it for some time. It was full of a variety of used books, paintings, nic nacs and, of course, quilts. We thoroughly enjoyed the experience. This was one of those home made businesses with the “barn” opposite the house with a complicated and interesting fountain between.

We wanted to visit the Oklahoma City bombing site and thought we might see some signs. Not so. As we were leaving the city, we jumped off the interstate and started to drive around the downtown area. The traffic was very light so we had no problems searching. After making several tight circles we thought we’d try asking. Two stops found two other visitors looking for the same thing. One of them had a general idea. With that info and Becky’s navigational skills we found it.

Our approach, we learned later, was the same made by the bomber. As we closed in on the block of the bombing, the street dead-ended into two large, closely spaced black walls. The walls are parallel and both with openings to allow people through. A similar pair of walls are at the other end of the block. The bomber would have continued down this street and would have stopped between the two pairs of walls. After going through the first pair of walls, a black rectangular pond replaces street in front of the building. After the first glance we realize that it’s not a pond at all but black tiles that are submersed under about an inch of water. The surface of the water is at the same level as the sidewalk and drains into a slot completely surrounding the tiles. It gives the appearance of a black, ice-covered road. The water loudly drains into the slot. It takes a bit to realize what we are seeing and hearing. Because of our silence, the moving water is louder than expected.

The reflecting pond road bounded by the pairs of walls. The time 9:01 is engraved in large numerals high on the wall we are facing. 9:03 is engraved similarly on the wall behind us. We are in what is called the corridor of time. The minute before and the minute after the detonation. The reflecting pool is in the moment of the detonation.

To our right is a grass rectangle where the building stood. Arranged on the grass are 168 bronze and stone chairs with a name of a victim engraved on each. The chairs represent the empty chairs at the dinner tables of the victim’s families. Nineteen of the chairs are smaller representing the children.

It is profoundly sad and humbling to be in this memorial.

Back outside the walls, is a chain-link fence. Visitors have attached all kinds of things to the fence—license plates, necklaces, pictures, written thoughts, artwork, etc. A picture and story of one of the victims is hanging here. This collage represents a collective, and overwhelming, sadness of all who have contributed.

It is said that the bomber never expressed remorse: (http://www.rickross.com/reference/mcveigh/mcveigh6.html)
and said that he did this to avenge Waco and Ruby Ridge. No matter how one feels about Waco and Ruby Ridge, how can anyone understand this vengeance? How sad and unjust that one misguided person could wreak so much damage and grief on others. And how sad that he would want to.

We continued on.

We’ll be staying Ozark, Arkansas tonight.

Through Texas

We traveled across Texas’s top hat and into Oklahoma today. There were some surprises.

As crossed from New Mexico into Texas, I was reminded of something an old friend from Texas was fond of telling me. He took great pride in telling me that Texas was so big that I wouldn’t be much closer to Galveston when I crossed the line than I would be from anywhere else in the US. And, you know, I didn’t feel any closer to Galveston than when I was in Rapid City.

Also as we went deeper into Texas the mountains started to recede. Somewhere outside Amarillo, we could no longer see them. In their place was a very flat grazing land. Even flatter than what we saw in South Dakota. It turned out, however, that the mountains weren't far away. Where ever we saw erosion or a river cutting through the land, we saw the red boulder and gray, porous granite--the stuff of the mountains behind us.

We were, again, in Big Sky Country. The sky was abruptly cut off by the flat, straight horizon. A remarkable effect. Every once in a while the road followed some gently rolling hills but, largely, it was flat.

This is richer looking grazing country than we saw in Wyoming. Also a lot of hay and there was even a cutting in progress. All we saw were big bales and stored in the field in roofed shelters. We saw sorghum fields in addition to the hay. Also unlike Wyoming, there were a lot of cattle in the fields.

We were surprised at the size of one of the beef processing operations. Without trying to count, it looked like there were thousands of cattle in a feedlot situation--many trucks, workers and feeder systems. . I’ve never seen anything on this scale.

Sometime after passing through Amarillo, we noticed a cross in the distance. Didn’t do much more than note it at the time. It was our second surprise. As time when on we realized that this cross was a ways off and, therefore, big. Finally a sign announcing “Cross” at Exit 115. We had to see this. We pulled off and there was more than just a nineteen story cross. A circle of concrete on which statues of the Stations of the Cross were situation surrounded it. Each with an explanatory plaque, a metal cast statue of a supporting character and of Jesus carrying a wooden cross. Between the first and last stations a walkway lead to a staircase leading up to a presentation of the crucifixion. Yet a larger circle was devoted to presenting the Ten Commandments and a display in memory of those who have died due to abortion. Even further out is a large, well-equipped gift shop and impressively large fountain. The structure is still unfinished. This was remarkable and very moving. If you’re interested in more information, visit the following links: http://crossministries.net/ and http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1912.
If you ever have the opportunity, I recommend visiting this site near Groom, Texas.

We stepped through all of the stations reading the plaques and then ended with a time at the crucifixion display. After visiting the gift shop we sat for a while at the fountain. This was deeply moving.

We’ll be spending the night at Elk City, Oklahoma.

Window Rock

Interesting day. After a great sidewalk sale at the Cracker Barrel and replenishing supplies from Wal-Mart, we headed off Interstate.

We drove into the Navajo Reservation to Window Rock. Beautiful drive. To get there, we went barely back into Arizona and turned north. The red boulder formations and the canyons are a feast for the eyes. Also the imagination because I just can’t help thinking about the situation here a hundred or so years ago. The nomad villages. The life of hunting. The battles for survival. Today, of course, it’s much different. Where tee pees may have been are, largely, manufactured homes. As you drive along, most of them show up in groups of four or five, occasionally we ran across a single home. The few constructed houses are usually round—don’t know why. A few are obviously farming and raising either sheep or cattle. Most appear to be working away from home. Without the signs and maps I wouldn’t have known we were driving through a reservation.

About a half an hour into the trip, we arrived at Window Rock. The name comes from a red boulder formation forming a hole—a picture’s been loaded for viewing. A memorial has been built in front of the rock honoring those lost in battle. There’s also a monument recognizing the Navajo Code Speakers of World War Two. An entrepreneur was selling necklaces out of his car at the entrance to the memorial. What a contrast!

Window Rock is also the location of the Navajo Nation government. It’s a collection of buildings like the Department of Justice, Attorney General, Department of Education and so on. The reservation covers 27,000 square miles in three states. If you’re interested in more information, visit: http://www.navajo.org/.

Following our trip to the reservation, we backtracked to Albuquerque for our trip back. We enjoyed again seeing the remarkable rock formations and layered mountain views. This time from the other direction. As I’ve said before, my favorite site is the surprise high altitude glimpse of a large basis. Albuquerque was one of the best. Much better from the west than our previous approach from the north. As we crested the final hill, the vast basin in which Albuquerque rests springs into view. The city pretty much fills the basin with a nest of tall building in the center. A spectacular view.

An addition from a previous post. If you're interested in the Navajo performer on the train trip to the Grand Canyon, visit: http://www.cclearwater.com/

We’ll be overnighting in Albuquerque.

An Arizona Desert

We traveled south yesterday to visit old friends who are now living in the Arizona desert outside Wickenburg. They are remote enough that, for the first time in the trip, we didn’t have Internet access. The trip was routine until we got to the Prescott National Forest. Here we traveled a very windy road through the forested mountains and dropped four thousand feet. A lot of leaning back and forth, pulling over for high speed locals and holding our noses while inhaling and exhaling.

The final part of the decent was the best. As we broke out of the mountains, we got a breathtaking view of the desert basin below. I do not tire of this kind of view. You can see for miles; in this case about sixty miles to the other side of the basin. We didn’t know it at the time but our destination was in view but still far away. The mountains and elevation must act as a weather barrier because the forty-degree temperature in Prescott yielded to the high eighties when we reached the desert floor.

The final decent was spectacular. Not only the view of the basin, but also the terrain and the plants. The walls were so shear and high that the two lanes of the road were actually cut into the mountain in two separate locations. Most of the time, we couldn’t see the oncoming traffic and when we could, they were either high above or below us. Also, part way down cacti appeared. What a strange plant and it appears in quite a few varieties. The tall ones we used to seeing in the westerns look like alien solders standing on the mountains and in the flat fields.

I thought we might be lost at one point because we left the highway and started into the desert on an unpaved road with no houses in sight. We persevered and sure enough we finally arrived at their home. They had a neighbor on either side but none others. All three were completely fenced in. When I asked why, I was told that ranchers were allowed open range and that meant that cattle weren’t fenced in, they were fenced out. If you don’t want them in your yard, then put up a fence.

We had a good visit and enjoyed the tour of the plants and sat for a long time on the porch watching the birds and animals. After dark we went outside for some stargazing. It was so dark, we human chained to the driveway. I leaned back against the car and saw the sky as I’ve never seen it. The Milky Way cut a large, bright, unmistakable swath though the middle of the sky. Again, I have to say spectacular. I was able to see clusters. None of us could spot the familiar Big Dipper because it was buried in so many stars I haven’t seen before. This was a wonderful experience.

The next day we said our good byes and headed toward Phoenix and then north toward Flagstaff. The varieties of cacti entertained us as we drove. There would be a single cactus in one place and then a forest of them in others.

As we retraced the trail to Flagstaff and, finally, to Gallup, New Mexico we enjoyed again the variety of mountains, rocks and forests we saw previously. We’ll be spending the night in Gallup.

Our Grand Canyon Experience

The Grand Canyon is one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. I now know why. I won’t say much about it because I’m not capable of adequately describing what I experienced. This hit home even more when I looked at the pictures and realized that they, too, are incapable of conveying the experience. You must be there. The bottom is about a mile from the rim. We’ve seen greater distances from Pikes Peak, from airplanes and in many other instances. There’s something very different, though about looking almost directly down and seeing that floor a mile below in that immense cavern. You must see the shapes and colors. Stand with people, with all of us in complete silence at the wonder. Listen to crows cawing as the swoop down. Their sound is like you hear nowhere else. It’s combined with echoes from the close walls and they disappear as the bird drops further into the expanse. It’s all of these things together and I hope that all of you can experience it.

The whole day was fun. It started with an old west shoot out in an old west set at the train station. We then boarded a domed car and rode for a little over two hours through the prairies and the Kiabab National Forest south of the canyon. The ride was smooth and enjoyable and the scenery was pleasant. We were entertained with musician/comedians. A Navajo, on the way up, sang several Navajo songs and several songs selected from elsewhere around the world. On the return trip, we listened to country western songs. Both were enjoyable.

The company also staged a train robbery. The train conveniently stopped at one point to allow the horseback riders on. A sheriff also mysteriously appeared to bring justice.

This is our last night in Williams.

Sedona

Another beautiful day--scattered fluffy clouds and blue skies. Today we drove to Sadona, Arizona. This is a drive that started well and just kept getting better.

We noted in some of the brochures that there was worthwhile scenery around the Sadona area. Since we’re waiting here in Williams one more day for our train trip to the Grand Canyon, we decided to hit the road.

On the drive to Flagstaff, one of the snow covered mountains and the clouds put on a real show for us. The picture is in the Yahoo site.

After arriving at Flagstaff, we turned south on AZ 89A. It’s a two lane, windy road that starts right off in a Ponderosa pine forest—the Coconino National Forest. The Ponderosa’s are very tall and the older ones have reddish trunks. Clearing underbrush is a big part of the fire management efforts in all the western states we’ve been through. Hundreds of volunteers in each area clear everything between the big trees. The scraps are piled every hundred feed, or so, and are burned after rains or snows. The effect here makes this one of the best drives for forest scenery I’ve seen. Looking into this forest, you can see the cleared ground under the collective canopy for well over 500 feet before the trunks make an impenetrable wall. It’s enchanting. Goes on for miles.

Toward the end of the forest, a sign announces a Viewing Area Ahead. Understatement. The Ponderosa forest is replaced with a vast yawning canyon. Giant deep red cliffs and boulders form the walls of the canyons. The rock formations are astonishing. This continues for the next twenty miles as we decent about 1,500 feet down the mountain on a very windy, narrow road complete with many switchbacks. You want to stop every hundred feet and take another picture. It’s a marvelous drive.

Shortly after getting to the bottom of the canyon, we started a brief uphill climb to Sadona. Sadona is situated in a vast canyon that goes in several directions. It is indescribable with its red rock formations. To get an idea, visit: http://www.visitsedona.com/. We drove through the residential part. No grass. All gravel, cactus, desert plants--different looking but nice. House counstruction was a lot like that in Santa Fe. We stopped at one For Sale sign and picked up a brochure. Becky said, "not bad", at the $275,000 price but then we realized that was for the small lot next to the house we thought was for sale.

We enjoyed this trip immensely. I strongly recommend seeing this area and city if you are travel anywhere near it.

Imax and in Quest of Elk

The day seemed to start badly. We had planned to see the Imax Grand Canyon movie at the South Rim. But it started raining and snowing while we were having breakfast. I tried to find whether the woman at the Visitor Center thought it would be safe to make the sixty mile trip. She hem hawed quite a bit. Then I asked her would she drive up there. Oh yes, she said. That did it, we were off and running.

About ten miles into the trip north, the sky went to white clouds with patches of blue and the rest of the day was dry and pleasant. Prairie grass and gentle hills provided the scenery early in the trip. As we crested a long slope, we could see something very different. I could swear I was looking at the ocean—distant and flat. A high, gently sloping mountain was right in the middle of the view. It was remarkable. Since we knew the Grand Canyon was ahead, we knew what we were seeing. We didn’t see that view again as the prairie grass gave way to a Kaibab Nation forest.

The National Geographic center with the Imax theater is just south of the canyon’s park entrance. The movie was remarkable. My previous favorite was Imax’s presentation of the Lewis and Clark expedition. Now there’re both my favorites. Consider seeing both if you have the chance. Only Imax can deliver the proper impact of this epic journey and this monumental place.

During the opening dialog, the announcer says “…did God make it or is it a symphony of nature…”. This is a question without an answer. Each person, who cares, must answer personally. For me, the answer is both. In my faith, I never tire of seeing the beauty and magnificence produced by God’s physical laws.

After leaving the center, we decided to explore some of the forest to see the abundant wildlife. We took one of the forest roads. Driving the roads was a challenge—unmaintained dirt and gravel with soft spots now and then. In about fifteen miles of tortuous driving, we saw a squirrel with big ears and some birds. Nothing else.

We emerged at a McDonald’s. Loaded up with coffee and tried another road. We got about two miles in before the road became impassible for our Honda. After a tricky turn around, we gave up went back to the highway and headed south. Not long after we left the forest, behold there was a big elk grazing about fifty feet from the road. It was perfect, the elk was in profile, the rack was huge and the magnificent beast stared right at us. We were about to top a hill and traffic was on our tail so I didn’t stop. We turned around to try for a picture but it was gone. Like the fish that got away.

Again, three hours behind and another night in Williams.

Into Arizona

This day started differently. Back in Estes Park, Colorado the disk brakes started sounding the alarm. It wasn’t until here in Gallup, New Mexico that we could find both the time and an available Midas. So we packed the car, I dropped Becky off at the Wal-Mart and settled in at Midas. The woman at the counter was a Navajo and lived on the reservation. We had noticed something that looked like very black dirt that had deeply and irregularly plowed. It was so irregular that a person couldn’t easily walk across it; the crests and valleys appeared to be up to three feet apart. Looking closer, it was rock, not dirt. She told me it was lava from the local Bandera volcano. The volcano last erupted about 10,000 years ago and is a crater rather than a hill, so we didn’t see it when we passed. Had a good conversation with her, the car was finished at an acceptable price and we hit the road.

Our entrance into Arizona was like licking a lollipop with a popcorn center. The interstate 40 entrance is dramatic and can be seen for miles. Of course, you don’t know what you’re seeing is the state line until the mile markers close in on zero. The road travels what looks to be the middle of a very expansive basin walled in by a continuous wall, except straight ahead. At that point the wall breaches like someone blasted through for the highway. But not so, it’s a natural passage and quite wide.

As you approach, you can imagine that anyone at the top of either side of the breach could see wagon trains or a single horse coming for miles. And the breach would be a great place for an attack. A real gateway and who ever controlled the cliffs would control who passed for quite a distance along the border.

Also, getting closer, you can see that the walls at the breach aren’t the porous gray granite seen up to this point. Rather they are very large, smooth dramatically-red boulders. In addition, billboards start to announce that visitors must bring cameras because of what Arizona is about to present. But shortly after entrance, the candy is gone and only the popcorn is left. What’s on the other side is miles and miles of flat scrub grass and sage brush growing in what looks like a desert. Just not interesting.

Immediately after crossing into Arizona, we are in the Indian version of Berlin. Trading post after trading post and all with the same stock. One was named Geronimo’s Trading Post. I couldn’t help but think that a legendary warrior deserves a better monument. Crazy Horse sure got one.

After a while, we arrived at a sign announcing the Petrified Forest. We got off and drove the 26 miles through the National Park that starts with the Painted Desert and ends with the Petrified Forest. The Painted Desert offers what looks to be red lava fields and panoramic views of the prairie. Interesting but not comparable to the Badlands. The road then travels for about 15 miles through plain prairie ending with a disappointing Petrified Forest. The forest consists of two view stops of scattered pieces of petrified logs. Just not impressive. What’s more impressive are the two Petrified Gift Shops just outside the south end of the park and at Holbrook. Both have many more examples of petrified logs and fossils that is offered by the park. Also both have more interesting presentations and explanations than the park. The gift shops were worth the visit.

As we approached Flagstaff, the terrain became much more interesting. The prairie gave way to foothill and then, quickly, to mountains. The scrub grass gave way to pines. The Rockies started to reappear in the background. The sky gave another great performance on this part of the trip. It was mostly clear and blue with all of the clouds piled up behind the distant Rockies. At first, the clouds, because of their shape and color, gave the illusion of the shadow of the mountains being projected against the sky. As we go closer, the clouds moved both toward us and lowered toward the mountains. The projection illusion disappeared but gave way to blanketing the largest of the peaks. It actually looked like the top third of the mountain was covered with a deeply fluffy blanket of cotton. It was spectacular.

If you’re waiting on something to be delivered, we know where it is. Because there are natural channels through the mountains, the road, the railroad and the river all travel side-by-side. Makes more since than blasting. We’ve seen as much railroad as we have road. On much of those rails sits miles of trains that are stopped. Now you know.

We’re now at Williams Arizona, three hours behind Ohio and ready to spend the night.

The Split Sky

Nice morning. We packed and headed for Gallup, New Mexico. The weather forecast was unstable with maybe rain, maybe not. Even though the landscape continued to fascinate me, the sky put on an impressive show.

All was pretty much as before as we headed south. But as we approached Santa Fe the foothills started to change. They were more numerous and you could see two distinct types. Hills with slowly rising sides resembling pyramids somewhat flat tops. The others are starting to approach buttes and mesas. What we were seeing was quite a bit different than the landscape further north. The colors all tended more toward red with some bright reds. The red cliffs are quite a sight.

The sky put on a spectacular show. The sky over the prairie, to our left, was covered with a stormy looking dark sky. Both were unusual.

On the right, we saw white billowy clouds, in the distance. The sky was a light blue. The white clouds, thick and fluffy, were so low that, from the car, we could see the ground below the clouds and the peaks of the mountains above. It had a fairy tale effect.

The clouds on the left we also low. At times the dark clouds actually formed large funnels all the way to the ground. The lightening was very active. The entire formation seemed to be still as were drove for miles and could the system from various sides. This was a spectacular effect.

Santa Fe was an interesting sight to approach. The cities, including Santa Fe that we saw from the interstate were all built in large basins. It is startling to crest the ridge of the basin and suddenly see the full expanse of the city spread out before the windshield. As we got closer, the buildings were different than we’re used to seeing. Most of them were adobe style. If not adobe, then blocky with flat roofs. Roofs not flat were of low pitch. Most were covered with stucco and colors were mostly light brown and lighter brown. This architecture was most evident to us when housing something familiar like McDonalds or KFC.

While in Santa Fe, we stopped at an interesting complex of stores named Jackalope. This attracted our attention because the Black Hills bus driver owns a home business that makes more Jackalopes than anyone else (his claim). The Jackalope is a mythical western creature that is a cross between a jackrabbit and an antelope. He makes them by using taxidermy to stuff rabbits and mount horns on their heads. We saw some in the store and they wanted over a hundred dollars for them! The store was interesting. All kinds of Indian artifacts, artwork, pottery, etc. And all in a festival type atmosphere with many people and a lot of bargaining. Kind of reminded me of Stanley Market in Hong Kong.

Albuquerque was a quick pass with heavy traffic. We hope to see more on the trip back.

Then we came to the Continental Divide. We both posed at the official marker and conducted an experiment. When water was poured on the top of the marker, it ran down both sides. We’ve notified friends in San Diego and New Orleans to watch for the results.

We’ll be overnighting in Gallup, New Mexico.

Royal Gorge

Today we left Colorado Springs and drove south to Canon (pronounced Canyon), Colorado. Another pleasant late summer day with mostly blue sky and low, billowy white clouds. On our way to yet another train ride.

The train consisted of three types of cars and a diesel locomotive at each end. One type looked like a typical passenger car. There were completely open cars ideal for observation. These appeared to be flat cars with a three-foot high wall added and doors at both ends—completely open air. The final type was domed observation cars. The windows in these cars started at about shoulder level and curved around overhead. They could have easily improved these by continuing the windows to the top centerline of the car. Everything was modern, not attempt at old timey on this one.

We rode through a gorge (strange word, some times means a long narrow canyon (empty hole) and at other times means to stuff the void (gorge yourself)), known as the Royal Gorge. It offered striking rock formations with a few mountain goats along the way. The rock formations were again made of the granite found in this area. It was rich with changing colors due to various minerals and quite a bit of sparkle due to mica embedded the rock. Along the way we saw a few fishermen and a couple of kayaks riding the rapids that ran along side the tracks. The canyon walls were very high, thus the observation and open cars were the way to do this excursion.

One point of interest was the Royal Gorge Bridge. It’s a suspension bridge. Outside of the engineering marvel of building a bridge over a high gorge, this one has some interesting history. It seems that it was built for no other reason than a person was offered a challenge—hey, I’ll bet you can’t do that. Strange bet in that the challenger lost nothing when the bridge was built and could have issued the gratifying “I told you so” in the case of a failure. The fellow built the bridge for $350,000. The bridge was completed in 1929. It’s the highest suspension bridge in the world; it’s 18 feet wide and 1,260 feet long. That’s no small bridge. And it goes nowhere! Think of the personal drive and dedication here—or would you call it something else?

We’ve run into some interesting signs in this part of Colorado. The first was one at a Christian Church demanding that worshipers wear Church Clothes to service. The next was an admonition to climb if flooding starts. The most recent was passing the correctional facilities going into Canon. We were told that the facility was there and not to pick up hitchhikers. I’ll let you chew on those.

After the train, we headed west, again away from the Rockies and toward US25. This interstate travels between the Rockies and the prairie. As before, this was a striking contrast as we headed toward New Mexico. The sky started to darken and we got our first rain of the trip. It didn’t last long and changed the complexion of the landscape. The gun gray and blue sky with the dark and silver clouds provided a beautiful backdrop to the snow capped Rockies. To the left, a gargantuan (widest I’ve ever seen) rainbow appeared. And for the first time I saw the end of the rainbow. It actually appeared to touch the prairie. As hard as I looked I couldn’t see the pot.

The drive was mostly flat across the prairie. Occasionally, the foothills would make an excursion into the prairie and the road would gently roll. The landscape changed in an interesting way as we moved further south. The foothill valleys seemed to broaden out while the peaks became steeper and narrower with mesas appearing. All of this with the ever present Rockies as a distant backdrop. I think we are seeing the beginnings of the transition to the more desert like lands that we’re approaching. We’ll see.

We’ll spend the night in Raton, New Mexico.

The Cog and the Peak

There’s just not enough superlatives for today’s’ adventure. We took the Cog Railway to Pike’s Peak.

In many places the train climbs 25 feet up for every 100 feet forward. The trains we’re familiar with would just spin their wheels on a grade this steep. So they put a track with rack of square teeth in between the two tracks you expect to see. The locomotive, then, engages this track with wheels that have square teeth. Works like two gears and the locomotive just climbs right up the steep grade without slipping.

This was a spectacular trip. So moving that Katharine Lee Bates penned “America the Beautiful” after her trip. She didn’t have the advantage of the Cog Railway and traveled to the top in a prairie wagon. The wagon was pulled half way up by two horses. Two mules then relieved the horses. When she arrived at the top “…It was then and there, as I was looking out over the sea-like expanse of fertile country spreading away so far under those ample skies, that the opening lines of the hymn floated into my mind." Although not a poet, I can fully understand what she felt.

For our trip, we boarded the train in summer like weather. The sky was a deep blue with large billowy white clouds. These conditions couldn’t have been better for what we were about to see. The train pulled away from the boarding area slowly—it goes about nine miles per hour. We were to climb to the 14,110-foot peak in over an hour.

The first part of the trip was merely interesting. We were walled in on both sides with tree covered granite cliffs. There were occasional sites like abandoned trapping cabins and small water falls. The real sites started as we climbed above the peaks of the small hills in which we started. We could start to see glimpses of Colorado Springs below. The sight was similar to what you see taking off in an airplane. As we climbed higher, we were finally above all the surrounding hills and we could continuously see the expanse of the area below surrounded by ranges of hills. As we went even higher, we could start to see snow capped mountains beyond the hills which surrounded the land below.

At one point, we pulled onto a sidetrack to allow a descending train to pass. At another, we stopped to allow some passengers off. They would follow a trail back to the train station or hike to the peak.

This continued until we finally climbed above the tree line. Abruptly there were no more trees, just rocks and a very short Arctic grass but mostly rocks. Without the trees and shrubs, the rocks looked like the results of massive blasting. They were a massive field of small rocks. I never suspected this by seeing them from below. The granite in these mountains is a porous and easily broken type. Each winter the ice in the cracks of the rocks causes them to break and, after all of these years, have made it look like a massive blasting area. We traveled upward above the tree line for another half an hour.

At the top you think you can see forever—mountain ranges, prairies, airports, other states. Absolutely beautiful and breathtaking, a wonderful day. You can get a glimpse of this at: http://www.springsgov.com/units/pikespeak/.

Tomorrow we’ll be moving a little south to Canon, Colorado.

Arriving in Colorado

Because we decided against going to Yellowstone, we arrived at Cheyenne too early to go to the rodeo. So we settled for washing clothes and resting up. As we left Cheyenne, it was warm and very windy.

Shortly after crossing into Colorado, we went to their Welcome center. We asked for suggestions and very helpful women suggested a drive to a place called Estes Park. It’s not a park but the name of a small city about fifteen miles into the Rockies. Following her suggestion, we left the interstate and drove toward the Rockies. The road traveled along a river and both were bounded by magnificently steep and high rock cliffs It was a wonderful site and a good drive.

We had a scenic lunch in Estes. The wind was still brisk and whipping up whitecaps in the reservoir below the restaurant. Above was a backdrop of snow-capped mountains rising above the tree line—a majestic site. The snow tricked us into thinking cold but it was still warm.

The drive back was south through Bolder rejoining the interstate at Denver. The mountainous scenery on the way down from Estes presented new colors and shapes at each curve. You just can’t beat the scenery here. As the road emerged from the Rockies, it turned south and for a while and we drove with the prairie to our left and the Rockies to our right. What a contrast.

The Denver metroplex is enormous. It started way out in Bolder and continued past Parker, just on the other side of Denver. We got to Bolder about one thirty and I thought it would be an easy drive well ahead of rush hour. That wasn’t to be the case. The traffic was dense and fast the whole way. It hardly gave us time to enjoy the Denver skyline. This is a very busy and densely populated area.

The drive became easier south of Parker but then became frenzied again as we got close to Colorado Springs. We’ll be staying in Colorado Springs tonight.

Wyoming

This was a day of contrasts. Winter to Fall. Hills to flat land. South Dakota to Wyoming. We scraped a couple inches of snow from the windows and left Rapid City. Snow flurries threatened some of the way but became a threat and finally gave way to the upper fifties and wind.

So far, each time we’ve crossed a state line, there’s been a noticible difference in some way. This time we left the beauty of the Black Hills and crossed into Wyoming the hills diminished and gave way to flat grazing land. Becky said we really were the “Big Sky”. That doesn’t make since to me and I can see no reason why it would be true but it was. Maybe it’s the unobstructed view that just goes on and on. There just aren’t many buildings. We would drive ten to fifteen miles between houses and each one had a mailbox. Just imagine the mail delivery problem. Whoever carries that mail probably makes only ten to twelve stops a day—just toss a small pile on the front seat and take off. I also hope they didn’t use Verizon because most of the time it was “No service”.

The land is an interesting mixture. It's moslty scrubby looking grass and sagebrush. But it's interrupted by rock outcroppings that look like the limestone coated granite we saw so often in South Dakota. More often than not, the outcroppings looked like they were trying to form buttes but always failed in some way. Some were short but may rose to hundreds of feet.

Strangely, the fences on both sides of the road were set back about 100 feet. Boy that’s a lot of ungrazed grass. And the fence lines were about five to ten miles apart. We would drive for miles and not see buildings or cars, just grazing cattle, fences and windmills to fill the water troughs. It looks like they load right from the fields. No grain farming or storage. Just put them in the field, let them graze and then load them for market. It was so vast I couldn’t see how they kept from losing some of the cattle—maybe they do.

It makes you think about what these people do for a quick burger or groceries or when something breaks down. Some of them are fifty miles from the nearest anything. Takes some planning.

One ominous indication of the possibly tough winters are the warnings issued whenever leaving a town. In all directions there’s a sign that says: “Road closed when flashing. Return to xxxx city. Otherwise yyy days in jail and $zzzz fine with be imposed”. Immediately following the signs are railroad crossing type drop down gates. It’s a scary sight.

On the west side of the road we used was many miles of substantial snow fence. These were big. They looked about eight to ten feet tall and made with triangular supports the allowed the fence to lean to the east. They were driven into the ground but, rather, just sat on the bottom of the triangles.

We thought we started seeing the tops of the closest of the Rockies about thirty miles north of Cheyenne. Sure enough as we got closer they were becoming obvious. What a beautiful sight to see them through the haze of the many miles. And you could dimly see even more distant peaks. I keep thinking of those long ago people traveling this land by horse. Where they bewildered by how vast and gargantuan everything was. How did they find food and water and shelter? This is the most fascinating trip I’ve ever taken.

We’ll be in Cheyenne Wyoming tonight.

Bus Tour

Today was fun. I can recommend the “Rushmore Tour” from Fort Hayes. It’s a nine hour bus tour with breakfast, a narrated tour and a dinner/live musical. Our driver was the grandson of Black Hills homesteaders and did a good job with local color and information.

I just haven’t tired of looking at the natural sights and the tour provided another fascinating day of seeing the hills and animals. This is a beautiful area.

Of all the tour provided, my favorites were Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Memorial. Rushmore must be seen to be appreciated. I just can’t imagine the talent of directing a project like this. The sculptor, Borglum, somehow was able to see heads in the raw spires of granite. Then with dynamite and jackhammers, he was able to carve them out on a colossal scale. At our best, we are truly a nation united by ideals. The four presidents portrayed represent the best of those ideals. It was deeply moving to see the gargantuan effort and to realize what it represents.

I was even more moved by the Crazy Horse Memorial. In the first half of the last century, a group decided that the American Indian Nation should have a memorial depicting that they too had heroes. It’s not clear to me who this group is or who they represent because those we group together as American Indians lived all over this country, had different cultures and different languages. At any rate, this group asked a Polish American if he could do something similar to Mount Rushmore. He agreed.

It seemed strange to turn to a non-Indian, but how many could do a task like this? He had worked with Borglum on Rushmore, so he was one of the very few who might be able to do the job. This became so dedicated to the task; he did most of the early work almost alone. He went on to meet his wife while working the job and they had ten children. He worked the project until his death in the eighties. His wife still manages the job and seven of their ten children have gone on to dedicate their lives to the task. What commitment.

This project is not finished; it could take another twenty years. The carving itself dwarfs the Rushmore carving and is even taller than the Washington monument and the Statue of Liberty. The project goes well beyond the carving. The current facility, below the carving, is dedicated to educating all who come in the history of the American Indian. When the facility is completed it will include a university and medical school. This is one of the most ambitiously impressive projects I have ever seen.

Tomorrow we plan to move on to Cheyenne. If all goes well we plan to attend the Shaun Dubie Memorial Roping contest.

Sightseeing around RC

Nothing exciting today except for the snow. It came down lightly for a couple of hours. Didn’t stick.

We had a waiting day today, awaiting our big tour of the monuments tomorrow. After that, we’ll head for Cheyenne, Wyoming. To occupy the time, we collected brochures of interest from the lobby. After making sure we wouldn’t duplicate any of tomorrows’ tour, we decided to go to Deadwood.

Deadwood’s about thirty miles northwest of Rapid City. It was advertised as one of the classic old west towns where legends were born. It was a disappointment. The historical section didn’t appear at all to be an old west town. Looked pretty new and was almost entirely devoted to gambling and restaurants. Through every storefront window we could see casino style lighting and slot machines. Good if you want to do some gaming but I had my heart set on a bit of the old west.

We took the interstate to Deadwood. We decided to take state routes back through the Black Hills. It was a pleasant drive. The hills are high and gently rolling, not dissimilar to Western Holmes County. They are predominately blanketed with pine and fir. Occasionally an entire hill would be scared by a forest fire—blackened and covered with tree skeletons. It started snowing right after leaving Deadwood. The snowfall picked up and continued until we arrived at Keystone.

We were at Keystone yesterday for the train excursion. It’s is a version of Berlin except the basic attraction are the presidents heads-carving. We went through all the stores and bought some souvenirs.

After Keystone, we decided to go to Wall. Wall’s attraction is “Wall Drug”. I don’t blame you for being put off by the name. Those of you who have gone through Statesville, North Carolina may have seen a similar phenomenon—JRs. About fifty miles out from Statesville, JRs starts advertising and continues will all kinds of hawking until you arrive at exit 50. Wall Drug does the same; the ads become more and more intriguing. It started as a drug store but is now a full block with old west looking building fronts on both sides of the street. It is packed full of attractions, souvenir stores, restaurants and saloons. In addition to the stores, many of the walls and hallways are covered with old west photos, drawings paintings, documents and stories. I found it fascinating.

The 1880 Train

Rapid City almost feels like home. Since leaving home, this is the first place we’ve spent more than one night. If all goes well, we’ll be here a couple of more days. Weather might be a problem. It 87 yesterday but dropped to 55 today with snow predicted on Wednesday. We fear the snow and may be driven south early.

We started the day by riding the “1880 Train”. It was enjoyable and insightful. Many mining claims were established around the Keystone, South Dakota area for various metals and minerals--gold, of course, being the most infamous. The mining operations required supplies and this gave rise to a host of suppliers. Hill City was established around making and delivering these supplies. If you think about it, the suppliers (General Store, Saloon, etc.) seem to make the real money out of all of these quests for riches like looking for gold.

At any rate, the railroad between Keystone and Hill City was established to deliver all these supplies to the miners, ship what they mined and provide a place for them to spend their riches. We rode this line. Along the way were abandoned mining operations with the dilapidated buildings still in place. Typically a “mining city” here was one or two buildings. None bigger than about 500 square feet. Those one or two buildings would serve as housing, hospital, saloon and whatever else was needed. Can you imagine living in conditions like that and in such an isolated way. That had to be a hard and lonely life.

A little local color. The engineer sounded the horn as we approached a small house along the tracks. An old fellow came out in his “Sunday go to meetin” clothes and greeted us with hat waving and animated waves. We waved back. This was old Leonard and he’s a regular greeter.

After the train Becky suggested we travel back to the Badlands. I won’t try to describe the sight in detail. It was remarkable in different ways than yesterday because the sun was low in the sky and we drove until dark. The colors and shadowing were beautiful and other-worldly. It was worth the trip and I wish each of you could see this.

The Badlands

We drove through the Badlands today. Another wonderful day. The wind, again, was strong and steady making it a challenge to open the car door. The clouds were high and wispy.

What I saw was a land of contrast. Abrupt drop offs and slowly rising hills. Razor sharp ridges and smooth mounds. Grasslands and mountains. Earth colors and stark black and whites. Prairie dogs and bison. In some cases the rocky eruptions produced buttes and in yet others they produced mesas. The mesas were always grass covered. It was vast and breathtaking.

I couldn’t help trying to put myself in the place of people on horses and with wagons who saw this land for the first time and without any knowledge of it or without cell phones and gps devices and the like. As they approached the rim of the massive valley, they had to wonder if they should go around or through. Around would be a very long trip. They would have know that because all they could see in the distance was ridges and peaks, not being sure what was beyond.

Traveling through would have presented all kinds of hazards because the Badlands offer many deceptions. Large areas are easily traveled grasslands. But the grasslands are always bounded by mountainous hills. They would have had to wonder what awaited when they reached the hills. Many of the hills rise slowly but have abrupt cliffs on the other side. Many of the hills were so convoluted with deep and narrow crevasses. A person or animal falling into one would be hopelessly wedged. A wagon couldn’t possibly pass.

Some hills offered paths through but these couldn’t be seen from a distance. A day’s travel might be rewarded by a dead end. Deception after deception.

This land gives a person great respect for those who traveled through without the benefit of roads, cars, phones and the like.

As a final note for the day, we’ve discovered how these people have defeated the evils of television. Since they’re two hours behind the east coast, prime time starts at six. By the time work, dinner and chores are done so are the programs.

We’re now in Rapid City, South Dakota.

Crossing South Dakota

Today was a day of history, gentle surprises and more agriculture.

I thought it was snowing when I first looked out the window this morning. Then I realized it was a cloud of some kind of seeds, like dandelion. The wind was steady and strong all day. I learned later that this is frequent for the Dakotas.

We took the full Laura Ingalls Wilder tour complete with a very animated and pleasant guide. She was a charter member of the local historical society. We learned a great deal. The tour included visits to the Ingalls' original De Smet house, the final house in town built by Charles, the cemetery and the homestead.

Charles and Caroline began their married life in Wisconsin and then sold their house and moved all the way to Kansas. A couple of years later, the Wisconsin house deal fell through and the government was about to evict them from the Kansas land because they were on “Indian” territory-back to Wisconsin. Charles then decided to try farming at Walnut Grove, Minnesota. The “dry years” forced him to work for the railroad. When Laura was twelve, Charles got a free rent deal on an abandoned surveyors house (their first in De Smet) with a pantry full of food. They went and staked a claim on the homestead. The first winter was so bad they had to build a house in town for the winter. After this, they farmed for a while. Charles then built another house (we visited this one) in De Smet and they lived there until their death. An illness blinded Mary and the other children moved away. Only Laura had a child and she, in turn, had no children. I tell you this brief story to consider why in the world did these people do this? Their life was significantly marred by hardship, illness death, and loss of family. Eventually their entire family (Charles and Caroline and progeny) died leaving no one. If Laura hadn’t been prodded to write her books by her daughter Rose, no one would be aware the Ingalls lived. Was this a success or a failure?

Following the Ingalls escapade we headed for US 90 and on to Rapid City. The first surprise was filling up with $1.99 gas—maybe you’ve seen these prices too. Moving we noted, from our highway slice of life, a major shift from grain to grazing. A lot of hay, grass and also, the number of farmsteads continually seen from the road dropped from about twenty to just a couple. Sometimes, we would drive for miles and not see any, just bales and cows. With no barns apparent, all of the big-baled hay was stored in large stacks in the fields. We could see them in all directions and all the way to the horizon. Looked like quite a bit of waste (I assume they know better though) and I wonder how they manage them when the snow builds up.

The change in scenery was continually changing, sometimes in surprising ways. It continued to get flatter. The most remarkable effect was the utility poles and towers. They appeared to march to the horizon becoming ever smaller until they were no longer distinguishable as poles and towers. A real feast of perspective experience.

The land also continued to become flatter. We all know the land is never entirely flat but the variations become softer and less pronounced. An interesting note is the variations were, more often than not, depressions. That is, the farmland was much like a table top with few hills and many small valleys.

As the land appeared to grow flatter, we were surprised to see a sign proclaiming a scenic overlook rest stop. I wondered how there could possibly be a scenic overlook in all of this planar land surrounding us. Well I was surprised because as we drove in we saw an immense valley that looked like it was gently gouged out of the soil and rock. It was a beautiful panoramic sight with a river at the bottom and three large bridges that looked pretty small from where we stood.

I thought the valley was just a larger version of the small depressions we had been driving through for hours—an anomaly. But no. As we climbed out of the valley some ten miles later, it became apparent that the mountains had begun to express their presence with gentle but ever growing foothills.

As the foothills became more pronounced, we noticed another interesting addition. Rock outcroppings became visible in the lush grass fields and hills. The interesting thing is that the rock was very smooth like it had slowly boiled out of the ground and then became frozen and then gently eroded. Again a beautiful sight.

Well this brought us to Wall, South Dakota, the home of the Badlands. We’ll spend the night here and go exploring the Badlands tomorrow.

Last of Minnesota

I felt great this morning. When I went out to load the car, the sky was cloudless blue and the temperature was. The jets were taking off one after the other. A good morning. Today was to be mostly a Minnesota drive. The towns we drove through we neat. The houses and lawns well kept and the streets and buildings neat and clean. I don’t think I’ve ever driven though some many pleasant looking towns.

We decided to go to Mankato and then on to De Smet. I remember from the Little House show (don’t know if was fact) that when they had a particularly bad year, Charles would go to Mankato to work and build up some money. We drove about two hundred miles from Mankato to De Smet. Every thirty miles I thought about him calling it a day (A friend I worked with told me that Ohio’s county seats were situated about thirty miles apart because that’s about a day’s trip on a horse). That would be about six or seven days if he rode a horse. There were towns at several of those thirty mile marks but none at others. I couldn’t help thinking about how much he must have missed his family and how hard that trip must have been, especially in the winter. We drove it in much less time.

Continuing to take Brad’s advice on eating local, we had lunch at the Happy Chef on the north side of Mankato. Thanks Brad, it was good food and, again, a fun and friendly place. While we were eating, good ole Bud came in—an elderly pleasant fellow. Everyone knew him and said hi. He announced he was in for a quick cup of coffee before getting new shoes for Nellie. He made a show of explaining that meant tires for his pickup and proclaiming himself to be a hillbilly.

We continued to be impressed with lay of the land all of the farming activity. The land we saw was gently rolling but profoundly flat. In most places I could see about twenty farmsteads looking from one side of the car to the other and those farms were not small. They appeared to be around 500 to a thousand acres. It’s one thing to see a lot of land but to see that many farmsteads as you look around says boy is this flat. Flattest I’ve every seen.

Today, the grain heads were off and the corn heads on. The combines were bringing in the corn. There was a combine at the bottom of each of the many dust devils you could see all the way out to the horizon and convoys of semis moving the corn. Even at that Becky said she couldn’t see how they could possibly get all that corn harvested before snow closed it all down. It did seem discouraging but they do it every year. As large as those combine heads are, they still seem to be drawing a narrow line through those gigantic fields.

After driving a short time you begin to wonder where all the trucks go. Every so often there is a farmer’s coop of behemoth drying and storage towers. The trucks are continually going in and out with the dryers going full blast. Just think of how much gas and propane they need to dry it down. And it goes on day and night until they’re finished. Like most people, I act as if food is manufactured in a factory. But these grains that are at the beginning of most food production are harvested in a short period of time to supply a year’s worth of use. Amazing.

At one point, we saw a pair of church spires jutting above a small town ahead. It was the largest building in the town. When we got there I couldn’t resist going in. It was an impressive structure, all brick with stairs going across the entire front of the building. I climbed the twenty or so steps to the massive wooden doors. The interior was spectacular. Too ornate for me to describe adequately but the inside was full of architectural curves climbing to the ceiling high overhead painted with an explosion of colors. The Stations of the Cross were displayed on both sides of the sanctuary. The alter, at the front, resembled gold-gilded castle climbing about two thirds of the way to the ceiling. It was a breath taking sight.

At one point in the drive I noticed transmission towers in the distance and off to the left. As we got closer I noticed they were strangely spaced for electric towers. And then even closer it was apparent they were windmills. They could be seen closely spaced around about a third of the horizon. I went on line and found out that there are current 281 of them and they supply enough energy to supply 90,000 midwestern homes. If you’re interested, visit http://www.lakebentonminnesota.com/index.asp?Type=B_BASIC&SEC={CEBE239B-59B5-4FF6-AB90-9520D07F5061};
What a remarkable site, I wish you could see them.

Not too long after seeing the windmills, we climbed a small hill and at the crest we saw an even flatter view—South Dakota. We’ll be spending the night here at De Smet.

We Crossed the Mississippi

Our day started with rain and about an hour east of the Mississippi. We were heading for La Crosse, WI to visit their Oktoberfest. The scenery looked a lot like driving in Ohio but the was one remarkable difference. Every so often there was an eruption of limestone and shale right out of a flat field—a complete surprise. These would rise some forty to fifty feet straight up with abruptly vertical walls. Some looked like towers, one looked much like an old gray castle like you might see at Disney World. It first made me think of one wall of the ruins of a castle.

The Oktoberfest was disappointing. Their website advertised displays of local crafts and skills but none were to be found. It was a beer blast complete with brots and carnival rides. Probably a good time for those who knew what to expect but we just moved on.

After crossing the Mississippi we left the interstate and drove a short way along the river. It’s not as wide as it is further south like at St Louis but it’s very interesting here. The river’s broken by many islands, both bare and wooded, and is bounded on both sides by slowly rising hills. The hills were in peak color. A spectacular sight.

The corn and soybeans in Wisconsin appeared to be untouched but looked ripe for harvest. The combines were out in Minnesota taking in the beans but it looked like they had just started. All of the operations I saw were big. Convoys of trucks being feed by combines that appeared to be speeding through the fields. The same was true of the leaves. Wisconsin was in full color while it looked about a week past in Minnesota. There were isolated spots of color but it was mostly finished.

We stopped in a local restaurant for lunch. The food was good and the place was interesting. It was old with a patchwork of furniture and a mixture of old and mismatched pictures on the walls. When Becky asked the direction to the restroom, she was told if she went that way she would end up in the washroom but the other way would commit her to washing dishes—they were warm and friendly. What made it fun for me though is that everyone around me sounded like the sound track from Fargo.

An interesting note is the deer detection systems I saw—new to me. For stretches of five and ten miles both sides of the road would have detectors. A pole every half-mile to mile (depending on whether the road was curved) had a solar panel powering beams that would be either detected or projected both ways to the next poles. The detectors were too high for most dogs but could easily detect a deer trying to cross. If one broke the beam a yellow light would flash. What an expense, they must have some real problems.
We ended the day by going to the Mall of America just south of Minneapolis. I had wanted to see the mall for some time now and it was not a disappointment. It occupies a former stadium located next to the airport. An amusement park was built on the old playing field. The seating area was replaced with a shopping mall of some 500 stores and completely encircled the amusement park. The walkways separating the rows of stores were open allowing walkers to see all the levels below and above. With all of the food courts, stores, music and activities, it was an exciting place.

We're Off

We are off and running. After Becky’s hard work at packing, we jammed everything into the car and headed out.

The beginning of a trip is always exiting and then settles into a humdrum of road noise. We had a late breakfast in Norwalk and then jumped on the turnpike and headed west. It took a long time to leave our stomping grounds and feel that we were actually starting a trip. For me, this happened as we approached Gary, Indiana.

What a mixture of sights. It’s an old industrial city of the type I didn’t think existed anymore. The first thing that struck me were the Roosevelt era WPA buildings—many cities have now torn these down. I’ve never seen such a spider web of our electric grid as I say today. The giant towers were going in all directions and gave the impression of trying to prevent birds from leaving the area. There is a vast array of steel mills and related factories that reminded me of Cleveland’s and Pittsburgh’s hey day. Most were working but appeared dilapidated with sparsely filled parking lots.

Right after Gary, we saw the Chicago skyline from the highflying Sky Bridge that enters the area from the south. I never tire of seeing big city skylines. You can just feel the energy of the city when you see that array of buildings with plane after plane coming into and leaving the airport. We got there at rush hour and it went slow but relatively well. The rush hour drivers displayed much more courtesy that I’ve seen in Columbus or Charlotte or San Diego and many other places.
We’re in Wisconsin now and hope to see the beginnings of the West sometime tomorrow.

Before the Trip

For some time we've been thinking about driving the west. What a fascination. The scenery and history are breathtaking. So this blog will start as a journal of the trip and what lead up to it.We started with only two destinations in mind--Mount Rushmore and the Grand Canyon. Sounded simple enough until we got the maps out and started surfing websites. The country is vast, there is so much to see and so little time and money to see it all. We’re not campers and are past doing anything athletic so this will be a sightseeing adventure.

Talking with friends yielded some ideas but we were still largely confused about what we wanted to do. We brought back armloads of tour books from the AAA. Seemed good at first but there was just too much information and sorting it all out was going to be tedious.

Now for some nuts and bolts. We decided to start by selecting several places we wanted to see—we started with Mount Rushmore, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and Graceland (OK, Graceland’s not part of the west but it’s on the way home and we couldn’t resist). We then ordered a TripTik from AAA’s website using those destinations. When the TripTik and maps arrived, we went back to the AAA website. This time, we went through the online Tour Books for each state along the route. For each book, we looked at both Events and Attractions. The resulting lists and links helped us fill in the gaps between the original destinations with stops that interested us.

Well, here we are. The car’s been cleaned and serviced, the mail forwarded to a great bill paying volunteer, a grass mower lined up and a couple of neighbors put on alert. Tomorrow’s the big day.

Intro

Here I am, new to the world of blogging. I have no idea where this will lead but travel I will.