"Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!"

[sergebroom]

Hello again.

The trip began with Starbuck in my lap. No, not Katee Sackhoff’s, but the one that sells coffee. I’ve had quite a few cups of that joe these last few years, but the morning of August 31, 2007, was the first time that one of them decided to lose its integrity, letting its venti and two shots of espresso quickly leak onto yours truly soon after I started to drink it and I had to toss the whole thing away. That wouldn’t have been so bad except that this happened after we’d left Albuquerque, heading due west to Arizona’s Flagstaff. Alas, even there, no coffee with any punch could be found and it became harder and harder for me to stay awake as we drove north from there, all the way to Lake Powell. Of course, as we followed the MapQuest directions that should have taken us to our hotel, we found ourselves going further and further away from the Lake. The hotel was supposed to be on the outskirts, but, 20 miles later, in the middle of nowhere, we finally turned around and realized that MapQuest basically had reversed some of its instructions. I guess that was appropriate, as Lake Powell is where the opening scenes of 1968’s Planet of the Apes were filmed. Astronauts winding up in the wrong place indeed…



Luckily the rest of the trip was more pleasant. We visited the north side of the Grand Canyon. While not as spectacular as the view from the south, it was still impressive. And we saw wild turkeys.



Oops. Wrong photo.



We then drove north, briefly stopped outside of Fredonia, on Arizona’s side of its border with Utah.



That photo, by the way, was taken from where our minivan was parked right above a recently flattened black cat. Gross, yes. Going thru the town, we were rather amused by the sight of a store that advertised the sale of guns, ammo and beer.

We made it to Utah’s Zion National Park, where we spent a few days, staying in the Park’s hotel. A few mule deer showed up with their kids one evening, grazing the lawn while ignoring all the humans around them. Some turkeys showed up a couple of days later. The landscape was gorgeous. We didn’t do any hiking though because one of Sue’s knees has been giving her a lot of trouble and will probably require some surgery. Instead, we took our backpacks-cum-folding-chairs to a nice spot by a river and spent a lot of time reading. A tree’s branch fell 30 feet from us, for no good reason. That didn’t send us packing, but we thought it wise to move away from that tree, eyeing it warily every time another tourist came close to it. I guess that parking near that dead cat in Fredonia was a bad idea.

The rest of our journey took us to Moab. We stayed in a B&B near the Colorado River, where we were treated to the spectacle of another black cat stalking a crawdad as it made its way across the lawn. Our next stop was at a B&B in Cortez, near the Mesa Verde ruins, where we learned that, not only does the owners’s grey cat not pick on their chicken, he likes to sleep with them. Later, as we started heading back south, toward New Mexico’s small town of Chama, a black cow decided to cross the road, but seeing us come fast, precipitously decided to change her course of action. Who said that bovines are stupid?

Anything else? We were back home yesterday afternoon. Rested? I don’t know, but it was a chance to get away from work. Sort of. That first night in Lake Powell was when some of our group’s few mainframe programs were scheduled to run. Being the group’s only person with any mainframe experience, I kept expecting a call from our manager that would have forced me to scramble and somehow somewhere find a high-speed internet connection. It didn’t happen, but it’s a sad reminder that one is never truly expected to be away in corporate America. Anyway. Every once in a while, during the trip, I found myself thinking that all the beauty I saw could be seen because of a human society based on easy access to energy and that one day it might all collapse. Luckily such thoughts came and went quickly.

Comments

Day late, dollar short (fortunately I'm in Euroland?)

[evilrooster.livejournal.com]

The first September week was barely past
When he was born. The way the seasons change
Is catching, so perhaps it is not strange
That his first tongue and nation weren't his last.
But though a tree may shed its autumn leaves
And be reclad in spring, the trunk remains.
And so it is with Serge, who still retains
The core of whom he loves, what he believes.
Beneath the puns, behind the clever prose,
Between the lines of sly pastiche, I see
The way he cares for this community
And value all the warmth his manner shows.
So happy birthday, Serge, although I'm late
(I knew the month, but just mislaid the date!)

Re: Day late, dollar short (fortunately I'm in Euroland?)

[serge-lj.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I am blushing.