Yellowstone – Day 1

H.A. Moore and Caroline Wise in front of the Yellowstone River, Wyoming

A change of approach was in order; the idea was to start packing three days before departing for our winter vacation instead of the more typical for me – last minute. When there is nothing to do on the day before heading to the airport, I find it easier to go to sleep early without the usual anxiety rush that makes for fitful sleep during the few short hours before the alarm snaps our attention back to consciousness at four in the morning. Instead, we head to bed casually, early, and without wondering what we are forgetting.

[The photo above is of H.A. Moore of Yellowstone Rough Riders and Caroline]

Orange-stained travertine terrace at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

Cloud cover obscured much of the flight north right up until we were maybe seventy miles from Salt Lake City. As the skies cleared, the snow cover and breadth of winter became apparent. The valley we are about to land in is locked between the Wasatch mountain range to the east and the Great Basin range to the west. On a winter morning, this sight is particularly beautiful, with snow-capped peaks catching the golden light of the still low sun while the string of cities north and south of Salt Lake lie in shadow.

Dead trees mirrored in a hot spring on a wintery day at the Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

After the bustle of Phoenix Sky Harbor airport, Salt Lake City feels quaint, but this airport, too, will have all the trappings of a big city airport when, a week from now, we return, flying in from the truly small Gallatin Field airport in Bozeman, Montana. The plane we board in Salt Lake seats fifty and doesn’t feel much bigger than the larger private jets I have seen so often landing and departing the Scottsdale Airpark. Our flight to Bozeman carries no children, not even a teen. Only one person who might be considered a minority, a woman of Asian descent, has joined us. The average age is certainly somewhere in the upper forties or early fifties. This midweek flight appears to attract a professional crowd. Many of the passengers are reading, a few talk and only a couple are listening to the sounds of something else from their headphones. Not one notebook computer is open, not a single movie is playing on a small screen, nor is anyone playing video games. If I had a wish, it might be that I should be sitting next to a social anthropologist who could explain why this group appears more comfortable, less frantic, and better at ease in their demeanor. This is flying for the zen crowd.

Travertine sculpted edge of a hot spring pool at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

Our Bombardier CRJ200 touches down early, and for a while, just before landing, it looks like Bozeman and the surrounding area are plenty snowy. On the ground, it became obvious, though that not much snow had fallen recently – while places like Seoul, South Korea, a week ago saw eleven inches of snowfall in a single day. Not only that, but a heatwave is whipping through the area, with temperatures in the low 50s. We travel light and have no baggage to claim; dragging our carry-on bags, we walk right over to Karst Stage – the folks who will drive us to our final destination, Yellowstone National Park.

Mammoth Hot Springs terraces in the foreground with dark heavy mountains in the background at Yellowstone National Park January 2010

As I approach the counter I recognize Mr. H.A. Moore. Although his back is towards me, he cuts a distinctive silhouette – H.A. was the same driver we had last year. Due to the overwhelming nature of our first winter trip to Yellowstone, we had forgotten by the end of our adventure that the sixty-seven-year-old horseman owns and leads backcountry tours for Yellowstone Rough Riders. H.A. arrived in the Yellowstone / Teton region in 1972 and has been a backcountry tour guide ever since. Talk with park personnel, and you’ll learn that there may not be anyone alive today who has the experience and breadth of knowledge H.A. has regarding the remote areas of Yellowstone. Listen to his cowboy poetry, and if you are so fortunate to be as rooted to the land as H.A., you too may gain a great understanding of who this man is, and you won’t hesitate to grab the opportunity to ride with him on a tour off the beaten path of the Yellowstone.

Water cascading over miniature terraces hill side at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

By the time we arrived at Roosevelt Arch on the North Entrance near Mammoth Hot Springs, we had confirmed a reservation with H.A. for a pack trip on horseback in early September 2011. Of course, we’d like to go this year, but with a nineteen-day rafting trip through the Grand Canyon scheduled, we can only accomplish so much in any given year. The week to ten-day ride, as described by H.A., will take us through the northwest corner of the park if someone would like to sponsor us for a ten-day trip, we would love to go see The Thorofare in the southeast of Yellowstone through the Absaroka Range. The Thorofare Trail is considered the most remote corner of America, being at least thirty miles in any direction from a road. A highlight of this particular trail is the Two Ocean Plateau on the Continental Divide, where North Two Ocean Creek splits, with one fork becoming the Pacific Creek and the other becoming the Atlantic Creek, with each flowing into the respective oceans.

Mammoth Hot Springs Yellowstone National Park in Winter

After a quick check-in at the Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel, we drop our bags in room 221, race to the ski shop for some water, and then jump on a van that will take us up the road to the Upper Terrace hot springs. Living in Phoenix, there is a transitory, temporary nature to people’s time at service industry jobs, so we were quite surprised to recognize Lisa at the front desk of the hotel, Point and Chris at the ski shop, Doug, who led our Wake up to Wildlife tour last year, and then later in the dining room, we recognized others from our previous visit. Chris, who is also a ski instructor, after learning of our upcoming big trip, told us that this April, he would be taking a trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon with a friend. Turns out this friend applied for a private permit almost twenty years to the day prior to his gaining approval. People of adventure flock together.

Mammoth Hot Springs Yellowstone National Park in Winter

While we enjoyed some sun and blue skies on our way into Yellowstone, it wasn’t to last. Sure, the sun poked its way through the clouds from time to time, but mostly, the sky was now overcast. This eighth visit to America’s first National Park will put us solidly over thirty days spent in the park, thirty-five to be precise, and yet I still do not have a feeling that I am much more familiar with its expanse than the first-time visitor who passes through in a day. We take our time here on the terrace, walking slower and lingering longer than on any previous visit, and still, it feels rushed, as if trying to make a compromise with time, willing it to slow down but it ignores our pleas.

Water gushing from rock forming new terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

With no other visitors up here, Caroline and I stand perfectly still so the snow below our feet doesn’t crunch and our clothes don’t swish, listening to the faint sound of birds in the distance. As the sounds of the hot springs become amplified in the silence, we can hear the change in the surge of water flowing over the cascading terraces. Our ears focus on a point where the steamy mineralized water exits the earth, hearing how the flow of water keeps changing; it rushes forward and slows again. The sun briefly illuminates an edge of white travertine, opening a hole in the clouds to shine on an adjacent mountain and just as quickly is gone again.

Icicles hanging from a dormant terrace at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

Small fluctuations in the wind combined with the pulsing water release billowy steam, creating patterns and shapes of ephemeral clouds, shifting, rolling, and dissipating. For a moment, edges and ripples of pooled water in a hot spring come into clarity but quickly are returned to be hidden behind the mysterious steamy shadows hiding from us what is now just out of view. With a new breeze comes an old familiar Yellowstone friend – the smell of sulfur.

Closeup detail of a steaming side of hot spring that has formed as a hill at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

The boardwalk trail here is relatively short and quite an easy walk. Still, we require four hours to stroll the terrace, and only the approach of evening compels us to depart for dinner. If this time were all we were allowed on this visit to Yellowstone, we could be content, but we have six more full days to go.

Steaming hill side terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park January 2010

This midweek day in the park gives the impression that no one else is here; we could be alone. A few tables in the dining room are occupied at dinner. A hot tub awaits us in the cold air for an enjoyable hour-long soak under the stars. All of a sudden, a day that began at 4:00 a.m. sure seems like a long one by 9:00 p.m.; the alarm will wake us before 6:00, twilight begins at 7:30 with sunrise at 8:00 – we’ll be ready.

16 Years

Caroline Wise and John Wise in front of the Grand Canyon National Park entry sign

Thirty days ago or so, on Caroline’s birthday, we found ourselves at the Grand Canyon National Park where back in 1994 right around this time of the year we were spending a brief honeymoon after getting married at the Little White Chapel in Las Vegas, Nevada. Today, January 12 we are noting our 16th wedding anniversary. What is tieing all of this together is that today’s photo shows us in the winter clothes we purchased during the last month of 2008 for a trip we were taking to Yellowstone in January 2009 to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary, and our 20th anniversary marking the first time we met back on 17 January 1989. You see, these clothes that were worn to the Grand Canyon last month are being put to use again this year, tomorrow as a matter of fact. On Wednesday, January 13th we are celebrating a one-year anniversary of celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary that was spent in Yellowstone National Park by repeating our trip to Yellowstone. A kind of anniversary of the anniversary, an exponential celebration of embedded anniversariness. Next year we promise to spin out of orbit and do something different, but for now, we once again don our Jack London memories and embark on a journey north looking for wolves, bison, moose, eagles, and the beginning of our 17th year of happily wedded bliss.

Visiting Another World

Inside the warehouse of India Imports in Los Angeles, California

Tuesday, January 5th, 2010, shortly after 6:00 a.m. I get in the driver’s seat of Sonal’s van for the drive to Los Angeles, California. The reason for our short two-day trip was to visit the suppliers that keep her store stocked with Indian and British goods. Thanks to the one-hour time zone difference between Arizona and California, we arrived at the first supplier before 11:00 am. Nirav is near the downtown L.A. area, and Sonal is here to say hello, order Ready to Eat items and see what’s new. Next up is India Imports, who, we learn, are also handling Deep Frozen Foods. Sonal usually orders Deep Foods from New Jersey, this offers the opportunity to save a little on shipping – if this distributor can consistently have what she needs in inventory.

Little India Market Place in Artesia, California

South on the 110 freeway, we go to Gardena, home of Kostas International, to pick up flour. Not just any flour, though; most Hindus have their favorite brand of flour, or Atta, as it is known. We were picking up 320 pounds of Sujata Atta, a whole wheat flour popular for making chapati and roti. By now, we are starving; it is just past 2:30 pm as we hop back on the 110 south to the 91 freeway east, exiting Pioneer Blvd. in Artesia to visit Little India for something to eat. Lunch is a couple of Indo-Chinese dishes fixed for us by the owner of Mumbai Ki Galliyon Se. In the same plaza, we also visit Ajay at Little India Market Place. Sonal and I met Ajay when he was working for Nirav some years ago he now owns and operates this small grocery with a beautiful display of garlands as you walk in.

Inside the warehouse of House of Spice in Cerritos, California

House of Spice – the granddaddy of and apparent current giant in the Indian food distribution arena was the last business stop of the day. While I enjoy the hospitality of all the business owners who invite me in to look into their operations, it is definitely House of Spice that is the most welcoming, open, and helpful in explaining the current trends and situations regarding the logistics and market conditions that surround the Indian grocery distribution world as it pertains to the western United States. I would like to share with you what I learned, but I suppose that for those of you with no interest in the mechanics of this industry, it would be boring. It’s nearly dark as we wrap up our visit while the workers at House of Spice rush to empty a container of food that arrived the day before from India.

Our hotel is the Rodeway Inn on Artesia Blvd – they have four Indian channels available on the TV in the room. We check-in, and just as quickly as we drop our bags, we get back in the van and head back to Pioneer Blvd. At Sukhadia Sweets, Sonal buys something special for her and her girls, and I bought some coconut and cardamom burfi for Caroline.

Ziba Music and Gifts in Artesia, California

Ziba Music & Gift was still where they have always been, it was encouraging to see them still in business after so many other music resellers have gone out of business. Ziba sells music, movies, and Indian musical instruments. The music on offer ranges from bhangra to Bollywood and Carnatic to lounge. I was here to pick up a copy of the soundtrack to Veer Zaara; after listening to it for so many years, it was time to support the industry and buy a copy.

Snack display at Ras Raj in Artesia, California

Dinner was at Ras Raj. I had the Manchurian Sizzler, and Sonal went for the Chole Bhatura – mine was better, although that is only my perspective. As we waited for our order, half a dozen other dishes pictured on the walls inspired me to want each of them. Being in Little India, it is difficult to pass up dessert, especially when falooda is on offer, so I didn’t pass on falooda – yum.

Inside the Naz8 theater in Artesia, California about to watch "3 Idiots" starring Amir Khan

The last stop of the day, of what by now was becoming a very long day – NAZ8. What is a NAZ8? It is a movie theater a few miles away from Little India that specializes in movies from Bollywood. We were here to watch 3 Idiots starring Amir Khan. While older Hindus would argue that the golden age of Bollywood was in the 50s and 60s, for Caroline and me, it began in the mid-90s and ended in 2009. 3 Idiots was a good film, with great laughs and great acting, even from Kareena Kapoor. The problem is for me that Bollywood is going the way of Hollywood, as in American Pie kind of humor. Not that the Masala film has gotten to that level yet, but the groundwork is being laid. For the first time in a Bollywood movie I have seen, men are seen from behind relieving themselves at the urinal while other men are filmed from overhead sitting on the toilet – all of this as part of one of the musical numbers. If you don’t know Bollywood, then you don’t know how revolutionary this is. All the same, three hours later, we are leaving the theater, and I’m thinking 3 Idiots was pretty good.

Watching Hindu television at the Rodeway Inn and Motel in Artesia, California

Without an alarm or wake-up call, I’m up early, turn on the TV, and check the Indian stations. Cricket, cricket, soap opera, and an old movie. I decided against the absurd chase scenes in this movie not featuring an actor I can recognize and tune in to the news about cricket. I don’t particularly like cricket, or sports for that matter, but the difference of it all and the great lettering in the onscreen graphics had me entranced for a short time. Starbucks called me from across the street, and soon, I was replenishing my caffeine stores.

Spices on display at Rani Foods in Los Angeles, California

Ajay over at Little India Market Place told us that Rani Foods wasn’t far away, so they were our first stop of the day. Another good place to find out more interesting facts regarding FDA involvement with food suppliers in India, embargos against particular products, who is really behind some of the popular brands Indians insist are the best, and how the Indian food industry is changing.

A new container of British foods unpacked and ready to be shelved at Piccadilly Imports in Los Angeles, California

At Piccadilly Imports, we spend a good part of the day with Emma and Ben, learning why certain British foods are, at times, impossible to find in the American market. Be warned, lovers of Smarties: the FDA has banned Smarties in the U.S. until the blue Smarties are removed, as the food coloring is not approved for the American market. Later Ben shows me a cherry red 1961 Porsche parked in the warehouse, which he has restored. It seems that the food industry is about to take the backseat as he looks to expand his time into more ‘me’ time and maybe less career time. Emma takes her time to walk around the shelves while we slowly shop and check out some products we knew nothing of, such as the case of award-winning Scottish Haggis made in America that will now be on the shelves of Indo Euro Foods in Phoenix, Arizona.

Sugar cane and various vegetables packed and ready for shipment from Samra Produce in Los Angeles, California

The last distributor to visit is on the edge of the downtown Los Angeles area, Samra Produce. Samra specializes in Indian and Oriental vegetables. If you are in need of guvar, tindoora, bitter melon, Thai chilies, Indian eggplant, or sin qua, Samra likely has it – as long as it’s in season. With the vegetables loaded into the van, we are once again heading back to Little India.

Street signs in Little India located in Artesia, California

Lunch was at Tangy Tomato on Pioneer Blvd. We had the buffet, and while I would have enjoyed the foods being warmer than they were, they were well-spiced, flavorful, and all-around pretty good. The Sag Paneer was my favorite, as was the hot fresh garlic naan. With stomachs full, we head back over to House of Spice to pick up a few items they packed up for us; the van is almost full. Around the corner, we meet up with the girls of Nanak Foods as Sonal has a client with an immediate need for paneer who cannot wait for her next shipment. It is now getting late; there is no way to avoid the afternoon rush hour as millions clog the freeways on their way home. It takes us almost two hours to finally get through the 50 miles of traffic jam and see a break on the road that allows us to start driving home faster than 25 miles per hour. It’s midnight when we get back to Phoenix.

First Day of the Year

Falooda - an ice cream, custard, boba, agar jelly noodle, and rose syrup milk dessert treat from Little Rangoon restaurant in Scottsdale, Arizona

Happy Falooda Day, Happy New Falooda Year, and may all your Faloodas be filled with rose syrup to shine brightly and happily as long as the sun shines pink like a Falooda on a perfect day of Faloodadelic pleasures. Five years ago, I started my blog with a photo of a banana split, and for these past five years, my days have been as perfect as three scoops of ice cream embraced by bananas covered in chocolate, strawberry, and pineapple delight topped with whipped cream and nuts. And so it is that I offer the next five years a Falooda – only two scoops of ice cream, but they are lovingly embraced by scrumptious homemade egg custard with pink agar jelly noodles riding high upon that vanilla ice cream while tapioca pearls float, dance, and sing as they decorate the pink milk stained with the sweet syrup of rose essence. With that kind of total perfection, how can the next five years be anything but Faloodaliciously Faloodatastic and Faloodarrific? Happy, Happy, Happy.

Last Day of the Year

John Wise holding a package from friends in Berlin, Germany

What a great way to bring an end to 2009 – a giant surprise delivered to us from Berlin, Germany. Taner and Verena, the friends who visited back in October sent us a wonderful box full of delightful gifts. For Caroline, the highlight was a scarf Verena was wearing during her visit that Caroline was admiring. She immediately slung it around her neck, wore it for tonight’s dinner, and just couldn’t be happier – Caroline sends all the gratitude in the world to Verena for her generosity. As for me, the highlight is a stone, a simple small river stone that has been captured in a little soldered steel exoskeleton fashioned into a bird with bright orange and yellow steel tail feathers. The bird is balanced on a stand made to look like bird legs that allows for it to rock back and forth – it now sits on the left of my monitor with a couple of other personal mementos to remind me of a brief but spectacular visit with an old friend and a new friend. The third gift is a beautiful large gecko made of porcelain, painted with a lovely blue pattern.

Happy Birthday Kushbu

Kushbu, Hemu, and Sonal Patel having a sweet to celebrate Kushbu's birthday at Cheese Cake Factory in Phoenix, Arizona

On the left is Kushbu, today she turned 17, she was only 9 years old when we met her back in 2002. Her sister Hemu is in the middle, she’s visiting from Tucson where she is studying nursing, and is only a year and a half away from finishing that. On the right is our friend Sonal, mom to Hemu and Kushbu. It is the recognition of young people’s life milestones that really gives the appearance of time flying by. While us older people go about our routines the wrinkles may become more pronounced, we might put on some weight, and many of us add some grey, but as children go from grade school to high school to getting drivers licenses and then contemplating college it becomes brutally apparent that some serious amounts of time are passing so we must be getting older. The five of us went out for dinner and afterward went over to the Cheese Cake Factory for some dessert and a good old-fashioned out-of-tune rendition of the birthday song. The only person missing from the picture is Ba, their grandmother, who is in India right now on vacation – I can’t wait for her to return as she is the best cook of Gujarati food, ever. Anyway, we had a great time out with the Patels only wishing this happened more often.