One or More Things I Did Today ("Dang, It's Hot Here!" Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 26th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Friends.
• This is a special edition of One or More Things I Did Today
• Had a lot of fun on this here day.
• Made it down to lovely and meat-markety Barton Springs. But before all this, I went for a run on the hike and bike trail, something I did but not once when I actually lived in Austin (for 20-some-odd years). Hot! And invigorating.
• Upon return to Barton Springs, a dip I had.
• A perfect plan: I'm able to get some exercise, get some sun, and clean up with a shower before dinner appointment.
  
• But not just any shower...
• A shower in the fabled (for me) men's quarters at Barton Springs.
• Quarters which can be described as "European".
• Which is to say, visiting this place as a youth virtually guaranteed a bushel of giggles.
  
• Which is to say, lots of old naked dudes.
• An old naked dude is something I aspire to be one day.
• But for now, I'll have to settle for being just a naked dude.
• Wow, just thinking about this day. Lot going on.
• About this time, I wrapped up things at the Spring, stopped by Flipnotics to feed this insatiable gorilla that is the WIDWINW blog, and headed to Barley Swine to meet my buddy.
• Pete Olah. Champion of Hungary, Pride of HomeAway, And Soon to Be Married (congrats, Pete!). Also noteworthy, for the purposes of this blog: dear friend. Also, Texas 4000 Brother in Arms.
  
• Barley Swine? An epicurean delight. Pete's done it again!
• We part ways, and Dani and I head to Ky and Sue's for some Tuesday night climbing.
• Tuesday night climbing?
  
• The Harkey's have climbing holds on three walls of their dirt-floored garage.
  
• That night, we sip beers, guffaw, and watch our pals cling and swing. A particularly noteworthy chat with Sue, and Ky burns the midnight oil with us into the low hours.
• Wonderful.
• Picture of the day*:

He didn't remember falling asleep in this position.

Feel free to use this pic in your wedding thank you cards, Pete.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*Dang, y'all! Two PoTD for the price of one!!!!1!!!!&

Lovely Cora.

My friend and host in Morrisville.

Cheers to the Churches for raising such a stellar pooch.

One or More Things I Did Today (Monday in Austin Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 25th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Hey, this whole catching-up thing gets easier with each post!
• So, let's see what I've got in the memory banks...
• Hm, no, that's a past life...
• That one, too...
• And that's a Michael J. Fox movie I saw when I was 9...
• Wait...
• Ah, no - that's a telepathic impression from the dude sitting next to me at Starbucks.
• Well, dang!
• Oh, might have something here...
• Yep, bingo. These things actually happened to me:
• Woke up.
• Um, don't remember much about the rest of the day. I imagine I ate some lunch at some point, as I often like to do that on Mondays.
• Really, the first solid memory was meeting up with a high-school chum I hadn't seen in a decade.
• It was great to catch up with Ashley. She looked and sounded great, a life in full bloom. And after hanging out, she was kind enough to ferry me east to "The Fabulous White Swan"*.
• "Fabulous" is something of a relative term these days, apparently.
• Usually, a Monday night in Austin would lend itself to a visit to The Fabulous** TC's***.
• Tragically, TC's was, as of a week prior, no more. And apparently White Swan was the successor for the diaspora, so to there we went.
• Good to see all y'all: Ky and Sue, Paul and Kate, Cory, Liz, Kelsey. In short? Wrecking crew.
• And so we danced and drank Lone Star and Stone IPAs.
• And we chatted.
• And when we left, we found Paul's window had been smashed out and his glove compartment sacked.
  
• Seems those piles of broken glass I noticed like prairie dog mounds on every street from I-35 to White Swan were telling us something.
• Picture of the day: I'm failing here.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*Or something like that. Honestly, all I remember about this place was the corner it sat on, which happened to be the corner that featured a robust crack trade that we'd pass every morning while driving to Junior High. 12th and Chicon, stand up!
**Ed's note: Italics added.
***What can I say about TC's? And institution. A movement. And something I can't squeeze into this edition of One or More Things I Did Today. Maybe I'll write about this place later, because it deserves a eulogy within this blog.

Planking Across America: From the Archives, Planking SF Pt.1

California,

The Golden Bear State, rival to Texas and Alaska in the big-and-populous-state categories, land of Gold's Gym, home to 4 NBA teams, motherland of many of my best buds, She of Berkeley and Beverly Hills, of Bill Walton and Huey Newton, home to lots of fruits and fruit of geological antiquity, replete with fault line, Yosemite-d up, and, most importantly, an impeccable canvas for planking.

Planking Across America.
A two part installment from my June and July visit to San Francisco

Their Eyes Were Watching Planking, Photo courtesy Beef Reavey

When you plank the pride parade, you better be prepared to be upstaged

I'd like to dedicate these two S.F. planking photos to my pal Shelly Kamboj. Peerless hostess, better half of Brian, and fan of beers, Shelly also has a mother that invented Indian food*. Shelly, thanks for the fun. This plank's for you.

---

*Conjecture. Claim may not be accurate.

One or More Things I Did Today (Trip to Grandma's Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 24th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• There we go. See? This whole keeping up with the bloggin' thing ain't so hard.
• And on this Sunday, I awoke at 6am, bright eyed and bushy tailed*.
• And it had come: the visit to Grandma's.

Stock photo: Christmas 2008

• This drive to Cleburne, TX, home of Grandma (not to be confused with Cleveland, a common misunderstanding of my childhood), is unusual, for I opt to stay awake the entire 3 hour or so drive from Austin**.
• This, in my estimation, is one of the prime times of the year to be in that part of Texas. While the heat is on, everything is still quite lush.
• After a meal of Buffalo Creek, Mom, Kelly, and I make to investigate a curious object we notice on the mudflats from our perch on the hill.
• Is it animal, mineral, old rotted tire?
• Not a one.
• Turns out it's a tree stump.
• I plank the tree stump.
• Turns out it's got some pretty sharp vertical points for a tree stump***.
• "Well, Grandma, it's about time to go."
• A Texas-day trip, complete: 3 hours each way.
• Some things in life are not meant to be: Robertson's is close, so my turkey sandwich comes from Schlotzsky's****.
• Alright.
• We arrive back in town in time for a free show at Antone's with my pal Dani: Lost Mountain Bayou Rambling Old Time Boys Revival.
• And it is a good one.
• Picture of the day: Please see above...*****
  

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*And far more bushy-tailed than my activities the day prior should have allowed, though I maintain that the unusually early nights that daytime drinking often lend themselves to also provide the length of sleep to ameliorate the day's work and put you on fresh feet in time for Sunday brunch. History would not lie!
**I love sleeping in cars. Actually, it's not so much a love as it is an inability to stay awake while being anywhere in a moving car other than the wheel. So comfortable.
***An artist sacrifices all for his art.
****And with that, WIDWINW has stooped into the "what I ate for lunch yesterday" realm of blogdom. Huzzah! And they said it wouldn't be done.
*****... for a picture taken 3 years prior.

One or More Things I Did Today (One Month Late Is Better Than Never Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 23rd, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• In honor of being a month behind of my "One or More Things I Did Today..." travelogue schedule, I present this classic Roots song, "Long Time".
• If I recall*, I was not the only one who slept in.
• We (The Family) decide around 9am to put off the visit to Grandma's house to tomorrow.
• Which lends itself to this.
• After a refresher beer at the Draught House, Carmen drops Mike and I off at the scene of Get Wet 3.
  
• Over the course of the sunny Texas summer day, we proceed to achieve the following: Viking chug the dark Real Ale beer from the donated kegs (for a good cause!), followed by slip-and-sliding the remnants off my chest and suit; introduce Stump (a podiatrist's dream) to Texas; rediscover the joys of the above ground and kiddy pools; make a hazy twilight visit to the new location of P.Terry's.
• Cap it all off with being in bed by 10pm on a Saturday night, and you've got yourself a number 1 hit there.
• Picture of the Day: Hm, dunno. Mike/Nick/Melissa, you guys got any of them?

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*Which I do, and I do now from a table at Uncommon Grounds in Burlington, VT.

Milan Ain't Got Nothin' On Valentine, TX!

On the road to Marfa, I came across something I was hoping I might see, but didn't expect to find on my route.

Driving down a typical rural West Texas road, I noticed a building up ahead. Figuring it for another abandoned failed general store, I reevaluate my expectations as I notice muddy tired tracks formed from right and left turns out of the lot in front of the building.

My rising suspicions are confirmed as I blow by this:

Eww. Prada? When is the Gucci store opening? Gucci is the only couture worth wearing. Gucci.

Out in Valentine, Texas, population 187, lay the Marfa Prada store. Or art installation, if you're so inclined.

Seems the locals weren't so inclined. The German artists behind the building intended to have the structure age without repair, such that it would eventually fade into the stark landscape like so many of the spectral facades that dot the roads out in these parts. Their conviction was challenged when, days after the piece was completed, vandals broke out with windows, stole the shoes and handbags, and spray-painted "dumb" all over the walls. A fitting reception to haute art in deep West Texas, me thinks, and really not unexpected.

The artists did decide to rebuild, and now the store features a security system and bags without bottoms (and loaded with weight sensors attached to an alarm).

If you've got a moment to spare in the sparseness of Route 90, drop on by and stare.

One or More Things I Did Today (Road to Austin Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 22nd, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• The day started early for me on this fine Friday morning.
• As I slept a fitful sleep in the realm of semi rigs blowing through the one-lane highway 200 yards from my hammock, forces converged to wake me.
• "That's a funny smell", I thought as I awoke abruptly.
• "That's a funny sound", I thought as I gathered my bearings.
• "That's a skunk", I realized as I rolled out of the saddle and onto the my feet.
• Taking the nocturnal visitor and the air-braking of the night warriors as signs that it was time to ride, I hopped in my pants and hit the Texas night, 4 hours prior to my expected departure.
• Cruising the middle of nowhere, 2am.
  
• About an hour in, I decide to give the whole sleeping thing another go. Pulling into a remote picnic spot, I pop the seat back and crash until dawn (skunks still have yet to thwart the locks on an Audi).
• I rise again, 5 hours or so of road between Austin and I.
• As I drive, it becomes apparent that I'll be pushing it to make town by lunch. Furthermore, I was hoping to hit the Real Ale brewery in Blanco, and heading to Austin beforehand would add a 2 hour round trip onto the books.
• Alert the troops that we'd best parlay lunch into dinner, than redouble my efforts for Blanco.
• I stop in Fredericksburg for lunch, and make Blanco a few hours before the 3pm tour is slated to start.
• When I make it to the brewery, I'm greeted to a mob scene.
  
• The crowd on a Friday afternoon suggests I'm not alone in my WIDWINW endeavors - either these people have no jobs, are independently wealthy, or they're graphic designers.
• Whatever their occupation, the tasting room is packed like the last train out of Pompeii.
  
• I manage a taste of the 15th Anniversary brew - tasty, dark little number unlike any of Real Ale's other offerings to date - and reverse course. Bar tours are six of one, half dozen of the other, as far as I'm concerned, and nothing save salvation is worth waiting 90 minutes for*.
• And before I know it, I'm home.
  
• Sadly, my return home is not all roses, as the first six cyclists I'm greeted with have opted to fore-go the entirely overrated helmet fad.
  
• I'm typically one to leave diatribes to other blogs and Facebook, but I will write this: few things impress upon me such a swift and profound judgement as cruising without a helmet.
• While it's every adults decision to put their brains at risk if they're so inclined, chances are they're unlikely to part with medical care provided by insurance should that decision come to bite them, steep costs that will be passed on to the more prudent helmet bearers of the streets.
• Moral: helmets.
• That evening: Crown and Anchor with Mike, Carmen, Nick, and Hap. Beers.
• Picture of the Day:

The H., Home For Much of the '90s.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*Foreshadowing events to come...

One or More Things I Did Today (El Paso! Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 21st, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• In the interest of managing content on WIDWINW (learning these editorial tricks as I go along), I shelved mentioning where I stayed on July 19th for this post. It's all about content management.
• The previous evening found me as a guest of Stuart and Shari Schwartz of El Paso, Texas.
• Wonderfully warm hosts, the Schwartzes put me up on my visit to El Paso, fed me, and perhaps most importantly, provided me with a bag of Double Stuffed Oreos to ease my travels. Thanks, guys!

Thank you, Schwartz Family

• Got on the road early today. The goal: Guadalupe Mountains.
• Hitting the road, I reach the park bearing the "Top of Texas" in about 3 hours.
  
• This is something of a return to this area* - back in August 2005, three dear friends and I wanted to plan a trip. Came down to New Orleans and Guadalupe Mountains National Park. For reasons I don't recall, we opted to head west rather than east, and were out in the desert for several days. Within minutes of resurfacing in civilization in Van Horn, Texas, we saw on the TV at the Mexican place we were eating news that Katrina had consumed New Orleans. I'm glad we went west.
  
• This time I've no friends with me - just myself and the desert. I encountered a total of one other party on my hike. Nothing like hours of hiking with just yourself, the mesquite, and the rattlesnakes.
• The view from on high:

Crap, left my camera down there!

• Not the most sexy view in the world, but a view nonetheless.
  
• After planking the summit and battling flying ants for the visitor's registry that sits in a crack in the rocks, I high-tailed it down the mountain and made a line for Marfa, where I'd lay may head for the evening.
• Wow, just now realizing there was more to this day than I'd originally thought...
  
• Super-jumbo One or More Things I Did Today Edition!!!

• Welcome to the second half of my July 20th, 2011.
• Hm... that boast above miiight have been a bit premature.
  
• And let me tell you why: I don't want to do a disservice to these next two tidbits, so I'm saving them both for separate posts.
• I'm sorry! But it's for your own good, being a supporting partner and angel investor in WIDWINW. We're all about monetization of this blog here at this blog, and content management (see first bullet) is key to maximizing our impending IPO.
• You understand, right?
• Picture of the Day:

Top o' Texas, Y'all. Whataburger scheduled for 2013 opening.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*Literary indulgence - it's every bit a return, since I haven't been here since the last (which was also the first) time I was here. Hm, this point seems rife with stating the obvious. Better move on...

One or More Things I Did Today (New Mexico Is Hot Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 20th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Hey, I'm still in Albuquerque.
• At Jason's advice, I stake out a spot at this place and tap in to the wireless.
• I spend about 4 hours doing this.
• Maybe more.
• Around lunch, Jason rolls by and we have lunch.
  
• I'll be honest with you - this wasn't the most eventful day in the history of WIDWINW.
• That being said, check out this tidbit: it was so hot in Albuquerque that day, that when I finally left and returned to my car, my deodorant had liquefied.
  
• Not melted. Liquefied*. I could have bathed in the stuff. Effectively, it was now body wash.
• Now that? That is hot.
• The rest of the day involved a bit of driving. Down south to the west Texas town of El Paso. Thankfully for the quality of this blog, the road between these two cities is rife with brilliantly unusual signs.

Top Signs and Sites Between Albuquerque
Sponsored by Lonely Planet and National Geographic

"El Paso 13, Beaumont 852" - A mileage sign on the New Mexico / Texas border. Those were the only two places listed.

Eat More Ice Cream! Drink More Milk! - Command printed on the side of a mammoth dairy plant surrounded by what amounted to feedlots. Is that ice cream and milk what I'm smelling? Sign me up!

Worst President Ever - Sign that slipped into West Texas from an alternative universe where George W. Bush was never born. The O in "worst" was the iconic Obama "O".

Bush Cheney '04** - Likely put up to remind the "worst president ever" sign which universe we're inhabiting. Or the extension of that sign. Or "kudos for not giving up the ghost!". Hard to say.

• As I passed one of the mandatory border patrol checks*** that stopped traffic heading the opposite direction, traffic heading my direction was treated to what looked like a fleet of paparazzi at a red carpet press spot - tons of what appeared to be cameras and lights greeting motorists. I felt like the Jonas Brothers****! Or, more accurately, like a less masculine version of the Jonas Brothers.
• And what I found most interesting of my day, the first time I'd crossed the border in return to Texas in years: the feeling of home. Even though the distinguishing characteristics between the north and south sides of Highway 10 were few to none, even though I had no loved ones and precious few contacts in that part of the state, even though the land looked nothing like Austin - even with all that, the feeling of coming home was palpable and undeniable. Looks like I'm a Texas at heart.

• Picture of the Day: N/A.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*The latest addition to the "trial and error with spell-check" club.
**Yep. Someone has some valuable billboard space there.
***The legality of which I'd love to hear specifics on. I'm not one to beat the Constitution Tambourine much, but really, these mandatory interviews miles from the border seem hard to swallow.
****Would this have been funnier if I swapped Justin Bieber for the Jonas Brothers? What? It's a played joke either way? Nah.

What I Do When I'm Not Blogging

So far.

One or More Things I Did Today (The Hitting The Road Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 19th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Goodbye, Zion. I will return. Until that day, please take good care of my cell phone. Let it not want for anything.
• While driving out the East exit, the locals bid me adieu:

Pick one: "Who do I think I'm kidding: these sheep couldn't care less that I'm leaving." "Hey, psst, want to buy an iPhone?"

• Time to put in some work. Destination: Albuquerque*
• Expansive. The West. A copy of Game Change** on loan from the heralded Cracker Barrel collection on the CD player.
• My gosh, thank you eyeballs, intelligent design, and whomever for teaming up to bring me sights like these:

To my left...
... and to my right.

• Somewhere more or less midway between Zion and Albuquerque, a little girl waving a sign causes me to veer off the road and backtrack a quarter mile. Whenever a little kid is hawking products in their driveway, I'm at least stopping by for a look. And, based on this experience, I'm going to reap rewards for my efforts when this happens on a reservation: pumpkin cookies, still hot from the oven, and a frybread bean and cheese taco.
• After nine hours or so or manipulating a steering wheel, I arrive in the 'Querque. And who should greet me? Oh, it's my old friends duststorm and smoke from the forest fire running amok just north of town!
  
• Deepening my burgeoning relationship with pay-phones, I give Jason - raconteur, cousin of my Mother, at no time member of the 'Querque fan club- a call.
• "Let's meet up in Old Town".
• Deal.
• After dinner, we hit up this place*** for a drink. The decent beer ship has made port in Albuquerque.
• Great catching up, great conversation, great night weather, great beer.
  
• And with that, it's time to call it a night.
• Picture of the day:

Loves me some Cowboy Poetry.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*A gold standard example of "spellcheck enabled trial and error". What would I do without you, dotted red line?

**A gold standard example of "hm, when you right a book that carries on like it's the gospel truth, should readers be at all concerned that all of the sources are anonymous?". Seriously, while most of the stuff in this book is along the lines of the popular furrows on these characters held by the wide majority of Americans (save for Elizabeth Edwards, who was apparently a difficult woman to be around), utilizing quotes and sentiments only two people in the world may have been privy to, without attributing those quotes to anyone, can make for an icky feeling.
***Looking at the link now, I'm pleased to say the scene in the photo looks nothing like the scene that night.

The Canyon, The River, and I

While the calves may look familiar, this is not me: my camera needs a rest before I can post some photos of the Narrows. Until then: a resource.

The

clouds were already rolling in when I woke, hanging thick above the Watchman campground, the color of a bruise.

On board the shuttle that would carry me for 40 minutes before debarking at The Temple of Sinawava, I considered the implicit warning in the possibility of rain: being that the 4.8 miles up and 4.8 miles back ran along the Virgin river, with sheer cliffs over a thousand feet tall overhead at points, the chances for a flash-flood were real* (though the risks associated were somewhat less, in my estimation - if I told you there was a 10% chance of a flash-flood, would you take those odds? 1%? Do you take any solace in statistics?**).

Upon arriving at the beginning of the hike, though, I could see I wasn't the only one unswayed by the the weather - hundreds of hikers were splish-splashing their way into the Narrows.

About 60% of the hike is within the river itself, alternating between wading through chest deep water, scurrying over turbulent rock beds, and at times swimming upstream. But while the water is cold - the origins of a large amount of it likely melt - and even on clear days the cliffs above conspire to keep the sun from a relatively short peak down, I never felt chilled. I'd chock this up to the exhilaration factor - the hike is effectively a natural incarnation of Schlitterbahn***.

Similarities to waterparks aside, the hike is no lazy river: footing for most of the river bed consists of rocks that average out to roughly the size and shape of bowling balls.

Now is probably a good time to mention that I'm still nursing a right ankle sprain, and dancing across watering bowling balls was conspicuously absent from the PT regimen the clinic recommended. Thankfully the strong current keeps the footholds relatively clean of algae, so I felt confident in the grip of my Keens to keep me upright.

Keeping with the good clip a party of one provides, I manage to outstrip most of the herd after a couple of hours****. At this point, as I feel a giddiness bubble up, charging chest first into a deeper section of the river, a sudden realization hits me:

It's Monday.

It's Monday, which means nearly everyone I care about is back at work after another weekend too short.

It's Monday, people are at work, and I'm traversing some of nature's finest work.

Fantastic.

--

For much of the start of the trip up the Virgin****, I repeatedly come across what appears to be an indigenous species to the Western National Parks, one Jeffrey and I saw in abundance back in Joshua Tree. Germans! I would hazard a guess that, within one 30 minute section of the Narrows, I was the only inhabitant possessing of a US passport. Now, understand that I love this - the fact the I'm lucky enough to be four tires from venues that people will travel half a world away to visit, places like Zion, brings a smile to my face. Keep 'em coming, Klaus*****.

The water's getting deeper at spots now, and I congratulate myself for my packing job. I endeavored to keep my backpack bereft of anything I wouldn't want to lose or subject to water damage (except for my camera, a calculated risk, and iPhone, which I shrewdly lost the night before to protect it from the river). Up until this point I've been holding the pack at arm's length above my head when the water gets up above my belly, but now I'm inclined, both by extra water and fewer people, to find a spot to stash the bag. And I'm not particularly concerned with the need to "stash" the bag - I harbor perhaps undue faith in the morals of hikers I've never met. Still, I find the perfect alcove, tucked away under a protecting lip of rock and somewhat out of the way from the casual eye, and deposit my water and food there, taking off for the home stretch freed of my burden.

At this point I enter a stretch where I gradually realize that I haven't seen another soul in an hour or so (time is tough to tell without a cell phone or Sun above). The next group I encounter is the first of a new breed of Narrows denizen: I'm going up, and they're coming down. Having camped the previous night high above us, these folks had hiked down into the river bed on they're way to a 16 hour journey.

After a few more hours, I reach what I expect is the point that hikers going upriver are instructed to stop at******- springs pouring from cracks in the walls into the river. After chatting with two guys who I later identified as the rearguard of the over-nighters, I'm content to pivot and start heading back downstream.

No longer on the opposing team from the current, I'm making great time back. Keeping my eyes peeled for the rock outcropping where my backpack rests, I trudge on for a long while before reaching a fork in the river. I'm nearly positive I had my bag when I passed this landmark coming up. Yes, I'd had it. Now, right as I'm slowing down just a tad, I've got to backtrack up and find that bag.

My thoughts: has that trust proved to be as naive as part of me thought?

After what seems like a half-way trek back, I encounter the two guys I'd run into a while back. Quickly picking up on why I'd be heading back, they immediately ask me if I'm looking for a red and black backpack. "300 yards back", they tell me.

I knew that those assumptions about the virtuousness of hikers weren't unfounded. And the water and beef jerky awaiting may never taste as good as it did in that moment, sitting above the river on a dry rock, legs tired and satisfied and with miles ahead of them before they'd reach the entrance to the Narrows.

---

*Once again, I love the amount of personal responsibility Zion gives visitors. Things might end poorly, but it's on you.
**An example: I know that the odds of me running afoul of a shark while swimming in the ocean and infinitesimal. The odds assure me it will never happen. And yet that entirely rational, logical point doesn't slow my heartbeat when I can't feel the sand on my toes in murky water, or stop me from from bringing myself to the brink of panic when I'm swimming in deep water.
***To those unfamiliar with Schlitterbahn, I feel for you.
****Full disclosure: I'm also reading "Desert Solitaire" by Edward Abbey on this part of the trip, so a bit of misanthropy is trickling in my thoughts. Future Book Club post? Yes. Book Club is still alive, just very, very lazy.
*****Here's a game I like to play with myself when I'm in a National Park or New York: based solely on the clothes - brand, cut, style - of the person approaching you: American or foreigner? I've found my own ability to call this game is limited, but there are some key indicators to keep an eye out for:

• Fila clothing. European, or recent partnership between Fila and Walmart? As touch a read as any for intrepid gamer.
• Apparel with "USA" or an American Flag prominently featured. A classic misdirection, this person does not pay US taxes, though that doesn't necessarily mean they're a foreigner...

*******I'm not sure why day hikers aren't supposed to go beyond this point, while overnighters cover a ton of ground beyond, but I imagine it has something to do with limiting traffic.

One or More Things I Did Today (Sundays are for Zion edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 17th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Woke up to the sounds of footsteps crackling in the ground as someone approached my hobo den. Sunshine Joe had come to Fairyland Point for an early morning photo session, waking me up 10 minutes before my alarm was scheduled to burst, and facilitating an early view to a gorgeous sunrise.
  
• Hit the road to Zion early, and arrived several hours later to find the crowd was even earlier.
• There are certain experiences that immediately reveal themselves as possessing a degree of splendor that makes them immediately forged into memories of the most precious sort.
• Zion was one of those experiences.
• I came in from the East, following the chain of cars down through the tunnels and sloping hills into the valley, a minor blessing that my car didn't leave the road for all of my gawking.
• Upon arriving at the campsite, I found my plot, dropped off the car, and made for the visitor's center.
• One of the terribly smart things about Zion: a top notch shuttle system that keeps the hordes of cars outside of the heart of the park. When you see the volume of visitors a park like Zion gets, this system makes an immense amount of sense. Tip of the cap to you, whoever thought of and implemented it.
• First up on the docket: Angel's Landing:
  
  
  
  http://www.flickr.com/photos/30124598@N00/sets/72157627117341603/

• Another thing to love about Zion: where else in this country can you be treated like an adult, subject to the consequences of your decisions? I'm amazed that its still an option to hike Angel's Landing, given the potential it offers to accidents and the litigiousness that follows. Tip of the other side of the cap to you, park managers.
• The hike, which gives the calves something to write home about, reaches its top form when you get to scramble across bare sandstone, where one misstep will send you into another world, and burly chains hold your hand like reassuring adults.
• Once I got used to the heights, it became somewhat surreal.
  
• From the finish point I could see the river bend hundreds of feet below. That made the descent easy, the goal of that cool water and washing the salt - brought to my arms and shoulders by the dry heat - off.
• And what do you know? The water was the perfect temperature, not nearly as frigid as I expected.
• Refreshed, I took the shuttle back to town, and hit the shuttle into S
• Bumbleberry pie? Check.
• Losing my cell phone? Check.
• Going for a fantastic jog at dusk, coming across what amounted to a little residential neighborhood within the park, and returning for some reading by candle and bug socializing? Oh, check check check.
  
• As I rolled out the sleeping mat and crashed for the evening, I had little idea I'd be spooked at about 3am and find myself putting up my tent in the dead of the night. But, sure enough, that's what happened.
• Picture of the day:

Be strong, young burly chain.

As they say, "It was a Day".

One or More Things I Did Today (A Saturday in Bryce edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 16th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Alarm went off, just prior to sunrise.
• I still have the run of the place. Rainbow Point and I against the world.
• After photographing the splendor, I drag my Thermarest to a nice little nook on the edge of the ground and plop down for a nap, bare feet warmed by the rising sun.
• A inter-species misunderstanding occurs when a chipmunk tries to snuggle with my ear, causing alarm in both parties. I bolt upright, banging my elbow on a rock.
  
• Awake now, it's time to pull my folding chair out and enjoy some breakfast.
• Having conquered breakfast, and with my fellow tourists pouring into the area at an impressive rate, it's time to scope the rest of the park.
  
• I hit the visitor's center, then my destination: Fairyland Loop.
• And I am quickly ecstatic, because this Fairyland place - indeed, this Bryce Canyon - is spectacular.
  
• After shambling through the hoodoos and spires for many hours, shirtless, sans sunscreen (and sans common sense), I emerge at the Sunset Campground, the same spot that eluded my search the previous night.
• To celebrate the discovery, and because I had eaten all of the meager provisions I had packed for the 8 mile hike, I help myself to a slice of pizza and a beer (and a nap) from the general store.
• Polish off the last leg of the loop, visualize a congratulatory auto-high-five, and commence to more exploring.
• Finding all of the first come, first served campgrounds are full, I make dinner in the picnic area.
  
• Let me save you some time in the future: it may not be impossible to cook a beet in a tiny pan on top of a Coleman propane grill, but there are easier endeavors out there.
• Dinner complete, I visit the Lodge and bide some time until the 9pm start of the Aliens presentation by one of the park rangers.
• Appreciating the free entertainment (and refraining now from making a joke about the average level charisma found in my sample of Bryce Canyon rangers), I also realize I'd probably be better served sleeping than sitting through another second of this Aliens presentation.
• Still without a legit campground, I make my way back to Fairyland Point.
  
• If I had left the Aliens presentation 5 minutes earlier, I would have not encountered the two gents who decided to take a well worn page from the Book of Youth and spend their Saturday evening in what can fairly be expected to be a discreet place, indulging in smoke.
• Ignoring these champions, I proceed to drag my supplies over the wooden beams (re: the fence) and make myself a little burrow above the Fairyland Loop.
  
• No bears or cougars, or bugs, visit me that night, but I have fitful sleep nonetheless (my sleeping bag is rated at 15 degrees, or about 50 degrees less than the air at Fairyland).

Picture of the day:

My view from the spot I awoke, Sunday (cheating a bit on this picture of the day thing...)

As they say, "It were a Day".

One or More Things I Did Today (Last Saturday Edition)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 15th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Raised my head from my pillow.
• Made a PB & J sandwich.
• Drove through NE Nevada into Utah, land of Jimmer.
• Let's cut to the good part:
• Full moon. Full, full moon.
• Made dinner at a rest stop outside of St. George, Utah.
  
• I entered the hills and passes that greet motorists as they leave Cedar City and enter the Dixie National Forest*.
  
• For much of the drive, I'm treated to an extended exercise in solipsism. The moon rises and falls behind cliffs on the way, and the light has brought the deer out in full force.
• These deer could care less about cars.
  
• Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the cars.
  
• I expected to find Bryce Canyon an area bereft of cell-phone coverage, a place one would need to plan ahead before visiting.
• This was not the case.
• Better service than San Francisco.
• And there are gas stations within a mile of the entrance to the park. Consider this.
  
• But, as I arrive late to Bryce, there is no one to be seen. The sign at the gate informs me that the primary campground is full, but that there are plots available in the Sunset Campground.
  
• I drive on, never finding Sunset, and ending up at the end of the road. Along the way I stop at several of the viewpoints and savor the supreme calm and beauty of having such a scene all to myself on a full moon.
  
• Finding myself at the end of the line, I consider rolling out my Thermarest at the edge of Rainbow Point, but decide against it, either because I'm spooked by the absence of any sound that high up and where the road has stopped (which, if logically followed, would mean there's nothing up there to be spooked about), or because I'm not entirely sure a woodland creature won't try and snuggle up to me while I slumber.
  
• As a compromise between two factions of my decision making committee, I opt to rearrange my haul and make a nook for sleeping. And let me tell you**, it worked like a lucky charm***.
• Sleep, precious sleep****.
  

Picture of the day: Once again, I forgot. But I've got plenty to come.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*I agree: how is this not in Tennessee or something?
**Phrase copyright Malia Killings, 2011.
***When is Obama going to roll up his sleeves and get down to tackling the real issues he ran on back in '08? Specifically, compelling General Mills by executive order to make an all marshmallows Lucky Charms cereal? We can use the non-marshmallow bits for mortar. How this plays out will be a significant factor in how '12 shakes out.
****As you will see shortly, I checked my phone (what fidelity in the reception out there) to see what time the sun would rise the following morning and set my alarm for 10 minutes prior.

One or More Things I Did Today (which is to say, last Friday)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 14th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• Woke up very late, powerfully late. It was so late, tomorrow's newspaper was on the doorstep*.
• Doled out some hugs and goodbyes to Maria, Lance, and Colleen, and hit the Starbucks.
• Apparently, Starbucks now offers free wi-fi**. If only Howard Schulz had told me this a year ago, I might have given him my $2 in exchange for 4 hours of table occupancy and internet connection many times over the past 12 months.
  
• As it became apparent that it was after noon, I decided maybe I scrap the whole "driving to Bryce Canyon without any plans once I got there, much less a place to stay" and stick around Las Vegas another night***.
  
• With a full and very hot afternoon at my disposal, I decided to do something I should have done for a while. No, not figure out my health insurance situation - that can wait. Play basketball, of course!
• Afterwards, I hit the municipal pool. Total haul? Got in a couple of laps in the 3' portion while navigating the slalom of hyperactive kids, and one triumphant journey down the water slide (where I head at least a head on every other member of the line).
• Having covered my daily allowance of chlorine, I headed to the Gallucci's for dinner.
• And, it was good. Very good! Great, really.
  
• After that, we retired to the Lockstadt's to prepare, for this was a special night. No, not the eve of Maria's birthday - she has one of those every year, for jeebus' sake. Verily, it was the midnight showing of the Final Harry Potter Movie, For Now!
  
• But, as a Johnny Come Lately, the gig was sold out.
• So, while my hosts checked out Harry and the gang, I tagged along to the Red Rocks casino and did the following, in no particular order: loitered around the poker room, variously amused and mildly terrified by the spectacle of humanity within; took a Dogfish Head 90 Minute in a to-go cup from the Yard House (this is perhaps the best part of Vegas - ABV you can take with you); killing some time 'round 1:30am by eating a burger and fries at the casino Fat Burger; exploring the office parks and parking lots on the periphery of the casino; trying out the transient lifestyle by taking a brief nap in the bushes next to Chevron. Not as comfortable as it sounds; helping some Aliens change the tire on their spaceship; throwing rocks into a fountain (splish splash).
• And thus concluded my day.

• Picture of the day: Alas, I forgot to take one.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*I think that's a convincing Dangefield impression, there. As I sit here in Albuquerque, I wonder what I wouldn't give up in this world (aside from my two actual Grandfathers) to have had Rodney as a grandfather. Precious little.
**I'm fully aware of the "that guy" realm this particular bullet will put me firmly in. And I don't care. If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, YKWIS?
***This does not make me a flip-flopper on my previous Las Vegas post. I'm the decider, so I decide.

I have survived Zion.

With all limbs intact. No 127 Hours moments for this guy.

I left both my heart and my cell phone in that magnificent valley.

Until the next time I fall enamored with a place,

One or More Things I Did Today (Catching Up on Backlogged Days Edition, from Zion National Park)

And Let It Be Known, that on July 13th, in the year of 2 thousands and 11, I was up to this:

• So long, LA. We had a good run.
  
• My god, there's a Chik-Fil-A in this town.
  
• I cannot emphasize the significance of this enough.
• 8 piece meal.
  
• To balance this day out as a draw, Las Vegas would have to leave me naked in the streets, wallet full of moths, left kidney missing*.
  
• I arrive in Las Vegas. See previous post for my sentiments. Like a commemorative souvenir book of our country's ills of the past 50 years.
  
• Dinner at Port of Subs!
  
• Turns out that my second cousin and her family live in LV, though, so the town** has that going for it.
  
• Visit to the Gallucci household.
  
• After catching up, commence to watching portions of Lawrence of Arabia.
• Things we learned while watching LoA:
  
• Camels can run
• The location*** of Aqaba
• That the movie has more false endings than a long uphill hike. Worse than A.I.
• Retrieved by Maria around 11pm to head over to the Lockstadt household.
  
• Stay up until 5am sitting on kitchen countertops, playing with a wonderfully hyperactive dog with a penchant for crotch-shots, and sharing YouTube finds and internet leads.

Picture of the Day: Previously published, click here for details.

As they say, "It was a Day".

---

*Hm... that actually doesn't sound all that outlandish.
**Re: world's largest strip mall.
***And existence of...

Goodbye, for now.

When I return, I shall blog of my time in Las Vegas, of wizards and deserts, and of the visit to parks and getting jiggy with Nature.

Until then, I'm heading to Zion.

*

Wish me luck. Write you come Tuesday.

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*Garish formatting intentional.