These are the tales of a summer of far-flung, free-wheeling, fanciful and sometimes fast, travel and adventure:
On the penultimate day of our two weeks on the road, I lightly gripped the wheel of the 2006 Toyota 4Runner as we cruised Interstate 70, transecting the rust and golden hued warmth of the surrounding mesozoic sandstone cliffs. Grant, my son, looked up from his iPhone and with a moment of insight and suggested to me that the theme of this trip seems to be time. I accept his insight and believe it is truly a fitting theme.
Time to seize the Future: As the family all gathered in Eugene, Oregon to celebrated his older sister's commencement from the University of Oregon - a full fledged Duck. With pomp and circumstance, Inga graduated with honors and now charts her future into the real world. Witnessing the transition to the future was the prime impetus for the journey.
Time to seize the Present: This was a father-son trip. One I am sure I valued more than Grant, this kind of appreciation only comes with time and perspective of a parent. This is likely a once-in-a-lifetime journey for the two of us. Grant knows well my philosophy, "enjoy the journey".
Time to embrace the past: A somewhat unexpected facet of the journey developed as I reconnected with old friends from Madera High after wandering away from the San Joaquin Valley some 33 years ago. My spirit was warmed beyond my expectation as I rekindled those connections that I thought lost, only to discover the bonds were not as tenuous as I had always believed. Also embraced was a wonderful, albeit short, reconnection with kin; two of the Maher cousins in Portland and almost a third in Tahoe as well as Nephew Scott who joined in Inga's graduation celebration from Portland by way of Bosie, Idaho. I would hope to continue these reconnections from the past into a "future time".
Time of eons and epochs of the incomprehensible past: As a geologist, this journey brought us intentionally through some of the most fanciful and an strangely inspiring landscapes on the planet. We allowed some time to poke about on the Colorado Plateau, driving on dust-drenched roads beneath towering stone exquisitely carved by the humble elements of wind and water in the Valley of the Gods, Utah. We journeyed through the Navajo Nation through billowing clouds of ochre dust as we pasted Ship Rock a volcanic plug punching the bald desert sky; a rock formed by once violent and belching fire and now silent, overlooking the surrounding hogans and the occasional goat herd. We peered over the Grand Canyon and marveled and then made camp near the rim that night.
We saw and did much in our time of travel.
The numbers that sum up our travels would read that we drove 5,871 miles, we used 281.5 gallons of gasoline, we averaged 20.8 MPG and paid from a low of $3.319 (Garland, TX) to $4.099 (Madera, CA) per gallon.
We made 26 stops for fuel, and I find these random names at our refueling locations an interesting study in the American lexicon of geography. To wit:
We stopped in Las Vegas, NV (Spanish. the meadows) and Vega, TX (Spanish. meadow). I found the plural location, Las Vegas, resembled nothing like a meadow, while the singular Vega location was on the windswept high plains and appeared to be as much wishful thinking and hopeful naming as was Las Vegas.
We bought gas in Glenwood Springs, Colorado Springs and Springfield.
We bought gas in Wichita Falls and Klamath Falls, neither of which readily have falls apparent.
We bought gas in Amarillo, TX (Spanish. yellow) and Redding, CA; while Utah was far more vibrant in both yellow and red landscapes.
We refueled in Gallup and Mexican Water (I have always heard that if you drink Mexican Water, you will get the trots - which may turn into a Gallup).
Our gas stop with the most interesting name? A) Mexican Water, or B) Rancho Cucamonga? My vote goes to Mexican Water, by vitue of a sign on the gas station advertising "Navajo Rugs Inside", but some joker added a "D" in front of the word "rugs".
But the coming words and the photos I hope will give a better sense of what we experienced, and in some small part I hope you, the reader, will find a way to enjoy the journey along with us in the following posts [as I find time to record and publish them in the coming days].
On the penultimate day of our two weeks on the road, I lightly gripped the wheel of the 2006 Toyota 4Runner as we cruised Interstate 70, transecting the rust and golden hued warmth of the surrounding mesozoic sandstone cliffs. Grant, my son, looked up from his iPhone and with a moment of insight and suggested to me that the theme of this trip seems to be time. I accept his insight and believe it is truly a fitting theme.
Time to seize the Future: As the family all gathered in Eugene, Oregon to celebrated his older sister's commencement from the University of Oregon - a full fledged Duck. With pomp and circumstance, Inga graduated with honors and now charts her future into the real world. Witnessing the transition to the future was the prime impetus for the journey.
Time to seize the Present: This was a father-son trip. One I am sure I valued more than Grant, this kind of appreciation only comes with time and perspective of a parent. This is likely a once-in-a-lifetime journey for the two of us. Grant knows well my philosophy, "enjoy the journey".
Time to embrace the past: A somewhat unexpected facet of the journey developed as I reconnected with old friends from Madera High after wandering away from the San Joaquin Valley some 33 years ago. My spirit was warmed beyond my expectation as I rekindled those connections that I thought lost, only to discover the bonds were not as tenuous as I had always believed. Also embraced was a wonderful, albeit short, reconnection with kin; two of the Maher cousins in Portland and almost a third in Tahoe as well as Nephew Scott who joined in Inga's graduation celebration from Portland by way of Bosie, Idaho. I would hope to continue these reconnections from the past into a "future time".
Time of eons and epochs of the incomprehensible past: As a geologist, this journey brought us intentionally through some of the most fanciful and an strangely inspiring landscapes on the planet. We allowed some time to poke about on the Colorado Plateau, driving on dust-drenched roads beneath towering stone exquisitely carved by the humble elements of wind and water in the Valley of the Gods, Utah. We journeyed through the Navajo Nation through billowing clouds of ochre dust as we pasted Ship Rock a volcanic plug punching the bald desert sky; a rock formed by once violent and belching fire and now silent, overlooking the surrounding hogans and the occasional goat herd. We peered over the Grand Canyon and marveled and then made camp near the rim that night.
We saw and did much in our time of travel.
The numbers that sum up our travels would read that we drove 5,871 miles, we used 281.5 gallons of gasoline, we averaged 20.8 MPG and paid from a low of $3.319 (Garland, TX) to $4.099 (Madera, CA) per gallon.
We made 26 stops for fuel, and I find these random names at our refueling locations an interesting study in the American lexicon of geography. To wit:
We stopped in Las Vegas, NV (Spanish. the meadows) and Vega, TX (Spanish. meadow). I found the plural location, Las Vegas, resembled nothing like a meadow, while the singular Vega location was on the windswept high plains and appeared to be as much wishful thinking and hopeful naming as was Las Vegas.
We bought gas in Glenwood Springs, Colorado Springs and Springfield.
We bought gas in Wichita Falls and Klamath Falls, neither of which readily have falls apparent.
We bought gas in Amarillo, TX (Spanish. yellow) and Redding, CA; while Utah was far more vibrant in both yellow and red landscapes.
We refueled in Gallup and Mexican Water (I have always heard that if you drink Mexican Water, you will get the trots - which may turn into a Gallup).
Our gas stop with the most interesting name? A) Mexican Water, or B) Rancho Cucamonga? My vote goes to Mexican Water, by vitue of a sign on the gas station advertising "Navajo Rugs Inside", but some joker added a "D" in front of the word "rugs".
But the coming words and the photos I hope will give a better sense of what we experienced, and in some small part I hope you, the reader, will find a way to enjoy the journey along with us in the following posts [as I find time to record and publish them in the coming days].
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