Robin Red Breast

It's been awhile, in fact, about 5500 miles. After leaving KY, we traveled through TN, AR, OK, TX, NM and AZ, up into UT then back down to NM, and finally on to CO, WY and MT. Most of our time is spent on the move. We're restless, seldom feeling the urge to stay for long. Much like a butterfly gathering nectar from colorful blooms, we flit from one state to another, gathering from each. In the same way the butterfly is energized by the nectar rich blossoms, we are similarly recharged, sending us further on our way. OK and TX impressed us with their toughness and resolve. With little moisture, the cactus sent out blooms and Indian paintbrush brightened the roadside sand.

Arizona and Utah wowed us with canyons, rocks lifted and heaved thousands of years ago, coming to rest rearranged in colorful layers too magnificent for our eyes to take in at one viewing. The Grand Canyon held our attention for several days, holding us captive to a changing color palette at dawn and dusk. From the East Rim we glimpsed the Colorado River, a fluid turquoise gem running below polychrome walls. The Southwestern colors that I've always loved, rust, mustard yellow and turquoise, gained new relevance.

the turquoise Colorado River

As we watched in silence, ravens played on air currents, tucking their wings, diving out of sight only to launch upward with black wings outspread,squawking their delight and leaving us envious of such weightless freedom.

Mary Colter's Watchtower on the East Rim of the Grand Canyon

Mary Colter, a woman of great vision, living in a man's world, designed the Watchtower in 1932, Sitting on the Canyon's East Rim, it serves as a reminder to travelers of the native people who have inhabited the Canyon for over 12,000 years. Fred Kabotie filled the tower with murals of Hopi Life. The Grand Canyon cannot be separated from those who came before us.

                                            Modern day travelers adorn the Canyon at sunset.

If a color were to describe the canyon lands of Utah, it would have to be red. Not the crimson red of Christmas, but the rusty red of a robin's breast. I found it particularly interesting when green pines dotted a landscape of orange red soil. We visited Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks in southwestern Utah. My vocabulary and language skills don't allow me to put into words the beauty of these canyons. They must be seen through one's own eyes and the canyon winds and unshaded sun must be felt against the skin. Despite the presence of travelers like ourselves, silence was often present. Such great beauty quieted the everyday tourist chatter over parking concerns, where and what to eat next and end of the day lodging.

It's not uncommon to see Mormons at Zion. Pioneers of the Mormon faith settled here seeking land on which to farm and graze their animals, Based on their faith, they gave the towering canyon cathedral the highest name, Zion.When driving to the park, we passed several farms and saw Mormon women working in large vegetable gardens. I was intrigued by the young girl in this photo who wears a baseball cap to protect her from the hot Utah sun.

The high altitude of Bryce Canyon (9,000 feet and above) brought us back into snow. Our dog, Fisher, delighted in the return to winter. She's a Siberian husky and currently molting which means our camper is adorn with her hair. Any chance to scratch the constant itch of this molting process, is for her a welcomed relief. 

When needing gas, I often direct Bucky to a town in large bold print on the map page. In this case, the town was Kanab, UT. It had been a long hot day and we both were ready to bring it to an end. Unfortunately, the campgrounds were full. However, a stop at the local grocery, provided us not only with a roasted chicken for dinner, but information on where to camp. The check-out clerk, a young man of about 18, directed us out of town and into the hills. We had reservations about heading into a teenage party location, but with darkness approaching, we decided we had little choice. As the road narrowed and it became increasingly evident that this area was for 4 wheel drive vehicles, we questioned our decision, but remained committed, proceeding fearlessly to our resting place in the desert. 

Awaking from a night of deep sleep, a result of profound tiredness, cool night air and silence, I escaped into the early morning without Fisher waking. She lay spilling from her dog bed, head lolling onto the camper floor while the rest of her remained coiled within. Her need for intense sleep mimicked my own.
Do you remember the red I spoke of earlier, robin's breast red? Well, now picture that red on steriods, a psychedelic red colliding in nature with the robin's egg blue of the southwestern sky. I was bombarded with colors so extreme I struggled to capture a fraction of its magnitude. My quick walk turned into a loss of time. I didn't want anything or anyone to remove me from the Alice in Wonderland world I had stumbled into. I even caught sight of a desert Jack rabbit as it hopped from view and it wouldn't have surprised me to see it pull out a pocket watch saying, "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date". Song birds warbled while scrub jays squawked, hopping from limb to limb among the pines.

I was fascinated by the animal and bird tracks held in the red sand. Each telling of travelers passing during the night while we soundly slept. 

Before I was ready to return, I saw Bucky and Fisher advancing toward me. I was reluctant to allow them entry into the world of beauty and silence I found myself in. It occurred without effort and before I knew it, they were by my side. Fisher stuck her nose into the tracks I had so carefully stepped around and Bucky calmly inquired as to what I'd seen. What had I seen? As if removing rose colored glasses, suddenly, the sand no longer seemed so red and the blue of the sky had slightly dimmed. The morning light which had cast a unique glow over my surroundings, faded as the sun ascended. This had been a very special morning.

Juniper berries

Standin' on a corner

"What do you think was going on with the police and the fire department around that tractor last night?", Bucky asked our neighboring campers. We had been parked beside each other at Walmart for 48 hours, waiting out the snow that hit Amarillo.
"Well.....I'm not totally sure, but I think the driver was dead inside."
It was said with a soft matter of factness that accompanies age. My eyes were caught by the gentleman's tan rugged face. He had told us they were snowbirds returning to their home in MN after wintering in AZ. There was no need to ask if their winter had been sunny. Shortly after returning to our RV there was a knock at the door. There stood the male snowbird. In his quiet voice he said that his wife wanted him to make sure we stopped in Winslow, on historic Route 66, the town about which Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey of the Eagles sang in "Take it Easy". While in Winslow, he encouraged us to visit La Posada Hotel. No sooner had the snowbird mentioned "Take it Easy", then "standin' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona......" became stuck in my head refusing to leave for several days. This Eagles tune had always been a favorite of mine, but was soon to become even more so.
While riding to Winslow, I schemed of posing Fisher, our husky, on the famous corner, snapping her picture and then using it along with some of the song lyrics for her 12th birthday ecard on May 5th. Probably putting her in a Mexican hat would be more appropriate for this date. The way I had it planned, I would sit her on the corner, take her leash off and quickly stand off to the side while Bucky snapped the shot. May 5th will mark her twelfth year as the ultimate escape artist. Recently, she has slowed down quite a bit. I had no doubt that during the picture taking process, if she should decide to sight see on her own, I would be able to catch her. I think it all would have worked out if not for a chihuahua. Fisher noticed the little dog before I did. Once their eyes locked, Fisher's thoughts became more about having Mexican take-out than her glamour pose.

Jackson Brown....girl in the flatbed Ford....... real truck, fake girl,

Glenn Frey 

back on the leash

We had the corner to ourselves, accompanied by the lyrics stuck in my head. For some reason in our drive from NM to Arizona, we lost/gained two hours. While we were up and ready to see the town at "our" 9 am, it evidently was 7 in Winslow..

Following the advice of the Walmart snowbirds, we headed directly down the street to La Posada. In this desert town surrounded by some of America's harshest land, La Posada appeared as an oasis. Built in 1930, La Posata (the resting place) was the last and most elegant of the great Fred Harvey Hotels built by the Santa Fe Railroad. It was designed and decorated by Mary Colter famous for her buildings at the Grand Canyon and chief architect for Fred Harvey. It was the finest hotel on Route 66 and all the passenger trains from Los Angeles to Chicago stopped here. Until the '50s,Winslow was a big town, bigger than Flagstaff and Sedona.  Charles Lindbergh designed Winslow's airport for the first transcontinental airline. But, as air travel flourished, people stopped riding trains, Route 66 was no longer traveled and La Posada Hotel closed in 1957. She remained closed to the public for 40 years. During this time, the hotel was used as offices for the railroad. Her grand furnishings were auctioned off and the ornate gardens were paved for parking. She existed as an abandoned shell. In 1993, it was decided that La Posada would be torn down. Fortunately, one couple could not let this happen. Through great effort, Allan Affeldt and his wife Tina Mion, purchased La Posada in 1997. Slowly, room by room, garden by garden, La Posada is returning to her former grandeur. Tina Mion is an artist of great renown and has made every effort to authentically redecorate the hotel while introducing her artwork and that of fellow artists to the hotel walls. As I passed through the common rooms and glanced into the Turquoise Room dining room, I was super impressed. The hotel is not only a replica of the original Harvey hotel, but has taken on a character of its own. Other than the guest hallways, La Posada is open to the public. There was so much to look at. Antique furniture lines the hallways and Navajo rugs grace the tile floors. I walked through the heavy carved wooden doors at the rear of the hotel just as a train passed by. It was easy to imagine guests arriving by train and being greeted by well trained Harvey staff for which Harvey hotels were famous. The guests would then be escorted through the surrounding gardens to the hotel lobby. Nowadays it's possible to arrive at La Posada by Amtrak.

one of many iron sculptures surrounding the gardens and ponds

Personally, I love the modern artwork in combination with the past. It seems to add new life to La Posada, bringing the hotel into the present and hopefully the future.

upstairs sitting room

by Tina Mion

Tina Mion Gallery.......Hilary Clinton trying to keep the sharks away from she and Bill. This fabulous exhibit consists of a painting, completed each week, for 52 weeks, combining the 52 cards found in a deck of cards and American first ladies.

This shows a portion of a huge painting of celebrities celebrating in purgatory, of those shown, most had ended their lives by suicide or poor life choices, but not Liberace. Can you find Ernest Hemingway, Jimi Hendrix, Marilyn Monroe, Kurt Cobain?

Our visit to La Posada left me thankful. Thankful for folks like Allan Affeldt and Tina Mion. Two people who saw the value in a forgotten gem and followed their hearts, using their own resources and recruiting others in preserving a significant piece of American history. My next stay in Winslow will be overnight in the room John Wayne slept in!