Glacier to Yellowstone – Day 5

Sunrise near Green River, Wyoming

Who among us has never seen a sunrise such as this? To be out West in the mountainous terrain of a place away from cities where a slight rise in elevation can offer us views that stretch for nearly 50 miles is a luxury I suppose few will ever experience firsthand. That rareness should stay with us and not be taken for granted; after all, it was only Caroline and me who were in this location at this particular moment where the sun and clouds would only appear to us in this exact configuration and never again in millions of years could this scene ever be duplicated.

Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area in Utah

The sun crawls higher, and we drive further south through the Flaming Gorge of Northern Utah. We started the day at 5:30, which means it was only 4:30 in Arizona, where we are headed, but with 860 miles (1,375 km) ahead of us, we’ll need all the psychological help we can find to believe we are getting home at a reasonable hour.

Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area in Utah

It’s Monday, but it may as well be some anonymous day a couple of hundred thousand years ago where no sign of humanity can be seen across the landscape. No power lines, no contrails, and no skyline in the distance. For a moment, one should find such a place, sit down, and meditate on the idea of being the first human ever to be looking out with the recognition that you might be the first sentient being ever to gaze upon the soil and into the sky with an entire future ahead of yourself and how you might want to shape your path.

Dandelion in Utah

A wish, okay, so it’s a dandelion, and maybe I’m “too old” to play such things, but so what? I wish to see a dinosaur.

Dinosaur National Monument in Utah

Wish granted here at the Dinosaur National Monument in Utah and Colorado. Millions of years ago, a river ran through the area, and with it, dead dinosaurs would drift downstream to be buried beneath the accumulating sediments.

Dinosaur National Monument in Utah

This upturned river bed is the main attraction of the park. Look at the picture above this one, and you can see that the building was placed directly over the riverbed that now sits at a nearly 90-degree angle.

Dinosaur National Monument in Utah

There’s a whole lot of wow factor for kids of all ages who come to gawk at dinosaur bones.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Colorado State Line

Because the road isn’t long enough already, we opt for a slight detour through Western Colorado to see what things look like out this way.

Loma, Colorado

A beautiful old and abandoned school built in the early 1900s. Nothing really significant about it; it was just nice to look at.

Near Moab, Utah on the Colorado River

Scenes hinting at getting close to home. These kids are playing on a sandbank in the Colorado River on the outskirts of Moab, Utah.

Hole In The Rock on U.S. Highway 191 in Utah

Hole N” The Rock still isn’t being visited, though it was just this past September that I was saying that someday we need to stop here. Maybe next year.

Newspaper Rock State Historical Monument in Utah

Seems like yesterday that we were here and not three years ago, but it was another September trip into the area back in the year 2000 that we first laid our eyes on this incredible panel of petroglyphs.

Cow Canyon Trading Post in Bluff, Utah

Fond memories of a great dinner will forever stay with us from that night years ago when we stayed in Bluff and walked over for a brilliant Native American meal.

Mexican Hat, Utah

Caroline blurts out, “….the layers” every time we pass this.

Mexican Hat, Utah

This is why the tiny community of Mexican Hat, Utah, is called Mexican Hat.

Mexican Hat, Utah

This sight had me thinking “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” thoughts for a moment, but I reassured myself and Caroline that the black cloth draped over his face offered up some protection against the bugs that would otherwise splatter on his face. By the way, we are in Mexican Hat proper, and if the Mexican Hat Lodge swinging BBQ was working at this time of day, I wouldn’t care what time we’d get home; I’d be eating a ribeye right about now.

Monument Valley in Utah on the Arizona border

We are just about to pass back into Arizona to finish our drive home, and this final glance at Monument Valley will be the last photo of the day and of this five-day race to the Canadian border and back. Though we spent a considerable amount of time in the car, we gained thousands of indelible impressions that work to cement our memories of how beautiful the wildlands of this country are. We arrived home an hour before midnight after driving 3,147 miles (5,078 km), dragged what we could upstairs, and instead of falling immediately to sleep, we checked out some of the photos from the trip. This has been a great way to celebrate Independence Day in America.

Glacier to Yellowstone – Day 4

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

It’s barely daybreak at 5:50 in the morning, but we know the value of every minute today. We must look forward to tomorrow when we need to get home. This plays a large role in how long we get to spend in Yellowstone, as we need to position ourselves tonight in a place where we can drive home tomorrow. At the moment, we are about 1,000 miles from home, and while consideration for those parameters is under consideration, we will do our best to remain in the moment and yet aware of the time.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

As I said, we were entering the park shortly after daybreak. Sunrise was right here at the Canary Springs on the terrace near where we dropped in last night for sunset. The boardwalk trail we had walked a few years earlier has been subsumed and is now impassable as it is disappearing below the limestone crust.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

In some areas, the color of the travertine has faded, and it seems the water is flowing in new areas, while in others, it has stopped. I think it was during our last visit we started learning about the hydrology of the ground below us and how the combination of a heat source close to the surface combined with an ample water supply to cook up a soup of minerals whose flow keeps shifting while the minerals that make up the travertine accumulate and also change the shape and openings of the natural pipes below. Depending on snowfall, rain, and earth movement caused by earthquakes it very well may be that the features of Yellowstone not only change from year to year but from season to season.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

We’d like to stop everywhere that looks familiar to get off the road and explore further than we have on previous visits, but with about 10 hours allocated for this part of the adventure instead of 3 to 5 days, we have to limit ourselves.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

So, you think this looks the same as it did so many years ago? Do the trees look taller, and can you tell how the forest is recovering from the fire of 1988? Come to think of it, when we were first here it was the beginning of the season in springtime when we visited with Ruby and Axel and then at the close of the season during the fall with my mother-in-law Jutta. Here, at the height of summer, I’d venture to say that the greens are greener and the blues bluer.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

To say we are excited to see all of this again should be obvious; what is not so obvious is our surprise at how amazing it all is. There are times we wonder if we’ll enjoy a place on subsequent visits as much as we did on our first or second stop, but seemingly without fail, we are as delighted as we were the first time. Matter of fact our familiarity starts to feel as though we are visiting an old friend who is happy to greet us.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Someday I hope to have all of these photos sorted algorithmically by visual data so I might learn better what exactly it is in these images that is common and if there’s a theme that I cannot see on glancing over them. Then I have to wonder about a man by himself looking into this cauldron of boiling water and steam: what is he seeing and experiencing? I get to squeeze Caroline’s hand and constantly reiterate how amazed I am, and she does the same back at me, but he doesn’t have anyone to share the experience being had at the moment. I can’t say one way or the other is more or less valid, but I do know that with the two of us sharing these days, we have each other to help fill the memory gaps that time and distance create.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

I should probably check my older photos, but I do think that there was a lot more steam obscuring the view of Excelsior Crater here at Midway Geyser Basin on our previous visits.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Looking at Grand Prismatic, it became certain that the view is a lot clearer today. Funny, but it seems like the hillside behind this hot spring is taking forever to start recovering from the fire. I hope we have yet another opportunity in the future to come back to Yellowstone and once again measure where things are in this national treasure.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

From where heads are pointed, it would seem that only the view of the Grand Prismatic behind me and the Excelsior Crater in front of me were worth taking in, meaning that this view in between feels neglected. Nothing should be passed by in Yellowstone, and one should always remember that Old Faithful is not the only thing to see on a visit to America’s first national park.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

The look of rust has more to do with the temperature and chemical composition of these bacterial mats that fan out and away from hot springs and geyser pools.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

We look into the earth in awe.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

For mere moments, we can glimpse a moment in history that has stood mostly still. Evolutionary forces may always be at work, but from our perspective, these things have always been this way, and a kind of timelessness is found.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

The day is not just screaming by. Maybe it’s the familiarity with the place and that we are not trying to commit every detail into our memories but are refreshing things that are back in there somewhere.

Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

The wonderful Old Faithful Inn looks as beautiful and majestic as always. With the bus out front, it’s almost difficult to witness the passage of time, and it feels like it could just as easily be 1955. I hope to never forget that it was the center-gabled roof above the patio that was the room we stayed in on our first visit to this historic hotel.

Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

To stay here just one more time, that would be nice.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

We’d been a little nervous about visiting Yellowstone at the height of tourism season out of fear of the large crowds we’d read and heard about, but being here on the Upper Geyser Basin a couple of days after the Fourth of July, things seem pretty calm and uncrowded to us.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Hello, old friends; we are back.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

There was no way we could be in the area and not walk from the Old Faithful Inn across the Upper Geyser Basin up to Morning Glory Pool. Along the way, we got to see Riverside Geyser spouting off.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

We couldn’t have asked for more dramatic skies.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

The astute among you might recognize that we are on our way back to the Old Faithful area.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

The Fishing Cone at West Thumb Geyser Basin is well underwater today; this is our first time seeing it so.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Fractal chaos at its best.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Don’t think I’ll ever be able to take a more iconic photo in Yellowstone, as this one has snow-capped mountains, a lake, blue skies, mom, dad, kid, a hot spring, and a boardwalk.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Already heading back to the car as our time in Yellowstone must come to an end on this short visit.

Oxbow Bend in the Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming

But that doesn’t mean we don’t have a few minutes to spare on our way through the Grand Teton National Park.

Caroline Wise at the Oxbow Bend in the Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming

We are at the Oxbow Bend of the Snake River with Caroline, commemorating the moment with a walk into the waters. It’s already 6:00 p.m. as we leave the Tetons.

Midway Mall in Big Piney, Wyoming

These summer days up north are deceiving due to their length. It’s still unbelievable that we’ll pull over in Green River, Wyoming, in a couple of hours and call it quits on the day so we can get a proper night of sleep. Tomorrow is the long haul home, and we are certainly accumulating a sleep deficit. Our original plans had us driving to Salt Lake City tonight, but after weighing the options and verifying the miles on our map, we decided on the detour. The Flaming Gorge Motel was a bargain at $38 for the night and is also a clue as to why we are detouring.

Glacier to Yellowstone – Day 3

Caroline Wise and John entering Glacier National Park in Montana for the first time

We are close to our destination of reaching the Canadian border, but we first have to deal with a National Park in our way and apparently also have to contend with an encounter with the sun.

Glacier National Park in Montana

Going-to-the-Sun Road is an imaginatively named road that elicits dreams of moving into the heavens. First, we will have many miles that need to be covered to reach such lofty heights. Lake McDonald in the early morning makes for a beautiful sight.

Glacier National Park in Montana

If we have to stop every five minutes to gawk at the scenery, we’ll never make it to either Canada or the Sun.

Glacier National Park in Montana

Where water flows, so do our emotions, and from them, an outpouring of not only love of place but the reinforcement of love between each other. Our profound luck to be first-hand witnesses to such spectacular places is a kind of magic we find inexplicable but will hopefully continue to experience well into the future.

Glacier National Park in Montana

That tiny scar across those steep slopes is the road we’ve been traveling on our way to the Sun.

Glacier National Park in Montana

Wow, somebody broke out the beauty stick and beat this part of the Earth hard.

Mountain Goats in Glacier National Park in Montana

I can’t help but see momma goat on the right seeming to be stepping out of her winter coat. At this point, we were on the other side of the Logan Pass Visitor Center, starting our exploration of the eastern side of Glacier National Park.

Glacier National Park in Montana

We must be getting close to the Sun as its reflections are becoming ever more impressive. If I’m not mistaken this is Saint Mary Lake.

Glacier National Park in Montana

Some will stop for squirrels or bears; I’m all about the thistle.

Glacier National Park in Montana

Maybe we are shortchanging Glacier National Park with a brief half-day visit?

Glacier National Park in Montana

Swiftcurrent Lake on the Continental Divide Trail in an area called Many Glacier. Now I’m certain we will not be able to give this park its due. With such a short season, this park will be difficult to visit again.

Glacier National Park in Montana

This park is a place where every corner and hillside offers a vastly different view of what you thought you were just looking at. It’s a bit of a fool’s paradise for photographers where getting lost in snapping more than you are experiencing is a real risk.

Montana

Sure, we took the obligatory photos at the Canada frontier sign and again at the “Welcome to Montana” sign for those traveling south, but those selfies were weak compared to this beautiful shot of a dramatic sky and weathered barn set in the green grass surrounded by cragged mountains. Matter of fact, we went so far that we were on the other side of the “Leaving America” sign, and upon seeing the long line of traffic to cross into Canada, we changed our mind about stepping into the Great White North and made a U-turn. We still have to go through U.S. Customs even though we’ve not left America, as the border control agents couldn’t see that we’d never left. So the obligatory moment of tension mounts as we wonder if our names have somehow shown up on some list that mandates that we are border bait for a cavity search. Fortunately, we had digital pictures that showed us just minutes before on the American side and had, in fact, not been in Canada, so after a minute or two with our friendly border agent, we were allowed to proceed.

Museum of the Plains in Browning, Montana

In Browning, Montana, we needed to stop in at the Museum of the Plains Indian to learn something more about the indigenous people that once enjoyed the lands of their ancestors without the interference of those who would rather they live somewhere else, such as on the moon. The contrast between the art of Native Americans who lived in Pueblos and those who lived on the Plains is stark.

Museum of the Plains in Browning, Montana

Both historic and contemporary arts and crafts are on display here. Too bad no in-residence Native Americans are sponsored here to help us visitors learn something more about the Blackfeet, Crow, Northern Cheyenne, Sioux, Assiniboine, Arapaho, Shoshone, Nez Perce, Flathead, Chippewa, and Cree cultures that are represented here.

Montana

I see it, too, off in the distance, way out there….. Being out here on the Great Plains is a terrific contrast to the canyons, mountains, and forests that we traveled through on our way north.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Roosevelt Entrance at Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

It’s YELLOWSTONE! Not just once in a lifetime, not even twice, but a third visit is in order, even if it’s a fraction of the time of our previous outings.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Fourth of July long weekend you can rest assured that finding lodging in the park would be a long shot. Even finding something outside of the park wasn’t that easy, and apparently, we got one of the last two rooms available in Gardiner, which is just outside the park over in Montana. Here we are at the Mammoth Hot Springs terraces, and this, at least for today, will have to be the extent of our time in the park as it’s getting dark.

Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming

Hot water, minerals, and plants that thrive in this chemical soup may not be everybody’s cup of tea, hmmm, probably be a horrible-tasting cup of tea, come to think about it, but Caroline and I enjoy every single proverbial drop of it.

Caroline Wise at Helen's Corral in Gardiner, Montana

We ate bison burgers at this little joint called Helen’s Corral a few years ago and are enjoying it a second time while reminiscing about our previous visits to Yellowstone and that Caroline’s mom was here with us on our last excursion into this corner of America. Tomorrow brings nearly a full day of revisiting some familiar places. We can’t wait.

Glacier to Yellowstone – Day 2

Richfield, Utah

Happy Fourth of July, America! Last night, when we arrived, this small town was not yet asleep as folks were out setting up chairs while food vendors were getting ready for today. The sound of fireworks woke us before our alarm did; somebody must have been testing the setup for the evening’s festivities. It’s only 6:30 when we leave our motel and see that Richfield is ready for the parade scheduled for later in the day. We won’t be around for the celebration, though, as our fireworks are to be found at points north of here. To get there, we break one of our travel rules that stipulates we avoid main highways and we head for Interstate 15, but before we get on this main thoroughfare, we take a beautiful scenic detour on Highway 50 through the nice little farming village of Scipio. Sailing up the 15 at nearly 85 mph we pass Salt Lake City. We are not able to spot a single Starbucks logo from the freeway until I see a Barnes and Noble bookstore in Ogden and we know they always have a coffee shop. Armed with a quad shot venti mocha loaded with 5 or 6 bags of sugar and topped with whipped cream, I’m ready to hit the gas and take this Oldsmobile to the Arctic Circle.

EBR-1 Historical Landmark in Arco, Idaho

It started with the radio fuzzing in and out. We think it might be this Atomic City; then again, it could just be that we are also entering a wilderness area. At Blackfoot, Idaho, we left the Interstate and got on Highway 26 in the direction of Craters of the Moon National Monument. We never made it to the Craters, though, because 20 miles before it, the town of Arco up and attacked our inner geek, demanding that we stop. The world’s first Nuclear Power Plant, called the EBR-1, is open to visitors, and self-guided tours are FREE! Seeing my wife is well past her best years, and that we won’t be producing any offspring with her old eggs, we figure a little radioactive contamination won’t do her any further harm, so we leap at the chance to play with spent or fresh nuclear fuel, we’re not that discerning.

EBR-1 Historical Landmark in Arco, Idaho

Our dreams of playing with glowing fissile material were quickly dashed when we were informed that as part of our entry fee, we would not be offered a souvenir that could be used for powering our own reactor or freaking out people by handing them a rod of uranium-235. Here in Arco, Idaho, we are among the highest density of nuclear reactors on Earth: over 50 of them have been built here. I think I like the town’s first name of Root Hog, more than Arco, but that’s just me. Arco was named after the German inventor Georg von Arco who was also one of the founders of Telefunken, makers of radio vacuum tubes, who was visiting Washington D.C. when the town changed its name. History abounds.

Caroline Wise at the "Sail" of the USS Hawkbill in Arco, Idaho

It’s not every day you expect to find a “sail” from a submarine on a plain in the middle of a continent, especially one marked with the sign of the beast. But that’s exactly what you’ll find in Arco, in addition to a ton of nuclear experimentation. Regarding the satanic reference, a placard offered this from Revelations Chapter 13, “And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea….Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; his number is 666.” All of this is in the area that lays claim to fame for having the largest concentration of Nuclear Reactors in the World! We thought the earth opening up next would be a great encore; we didn’t have long to wait.

Borah Peak on the left off Interstate 93 in Idaho

On your left in this photo is Borah Peak, which is Idaho’s tallest mountain, standing at 12,662 feet tall or 3,859 meters. Just past this spot was a sign that said something about “Earthquake,” so we turned around to at least read it. It tells us of a crack in the earth caused by an earthquake, and it’s only two miles up the road. Turns out that it’s a washboard road of dirt and gravel where we fly our Oldsmobile at 40 mph, which is okay as we’re in a rental. Back on October 28, 1983, a 6.9 magnitude earthquake at Borah Peak occurred, causing the mountain range to gain 6 inches in elevation while the valley we took the photo from dropped 9 feet (3 meters). The crack before us is proof that, indeed, the earth has opened here, casting doubt on the forethought that went into putting the largest concentration of nuclear reactors in the world just down the road. Oh well, it’s beautiful out here, no time to worry about meltdowns and the earth opening a window into the gates of hell and so we bump back down the road to rejoin the highway.

Interstate 93 in Idaho

We’re following the Salmon River on Interstate 93.

Interstate 93 in Idaho

Since turning off the Interstate hours ago, we get to reflect on the roads and scenery that deliver the reason for us to endure these long road trips. With high mountains surrounding us and green grassy fields in between, the shadows of the clouds paint the landscape for miles before and after us. It’s difficult not to stop and sit by the roadside listening to the birds and the silence that punctuates their songs. These are the places in America where you have to relax for a moment after stepping out from your car to concentrate your breathing so it doesn’t interfere with the quiet we so rarely have the opportunity to experience. The day is beautiful as we hold hands and, from time to time, smile at each other with that knowing glance that we are so incredibly lucky to be experiencing this moment.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Idaho and Montana State Line

We are on the Chief Joseph Pass as we approach Montana, where we will stop for the obligatory selfie in front of the state sign. We had missed the Idaho sign earlier in the day, so we needed to get that out of the way first. Next up, we skip across the street and shoot a photo of us in front of the Montana state sign; this is almost becoming a compulsive disorder. So here we are in the wilderness, nothing but trees and mountains for miles and miles, sitting in the mountain air at 7014 feet when to my overwhelming surprise, we meet a couple roadside with a little wood cart they’ve hauled up here. Relaxing in lawn chairs under the trees, this husband and wife team are hawking beef jerky, not actually hawking as that would imply some level of work; they are sitting here waiting for whoever might pass over these mountains.

Turns out we don’t have enough cash for a package, and obviously, at this altitude on a remote stretch of road, they don’t accept credit cards, so we swap the little cash we have and a couple of grapefruits we had stowed in our ice chest. This is one of the great pleasures of road-tripping; how often have you met a couple sitting in the forest on lawn chairs selling jerky halfway through a transcontinental flight?

Big Horn Sheep off Interstate 93 in Montana

From the crest where we had our jerky encounter, the road begins its descent, and before you can blink an eye, we are making a near emergency stop on the side of the road, as a bighorn sheep herd with about 30 animals is meandering next to and across the road. As it’s early summer, the lambs are out with their parents, learning the fine art of ledge walking. We sat here right next to these families while the rocks from above tumbled ever closer to the Oldsmobile. After nearly 20 minutes, there are about half a dozen cars now parked with us before we begrudgingly move on.

A Bee on Interstate 93 in Montana

This lonely bee looked forlorn, and without a good dusting of pollen, it had us wondering what troubles this poor soul had seen. It just sat there kind of sulking as I approached to take its photo; while I wouldn’t want to be stung by it, it sure was pretty.

Interstate 93 in Montana

Still on Highway 93, we were passing through lush green valleys and rolling mountains on the way to Missoula when we entered the Flathead Indian Reservation. A roadside pullout invited us to stop at an overview of the gorgeous valley that we learned had been an inland sea after the last ice age scraped the form we see today.

Continuing our way north, we remained on the 93 to Polson, where we met Flathead Lake and the beginning of the evening’s fireworks displays. The road hugs the lake, and from dusk till dark, we wound our way up the road to Kalispell, all the while watching dozens of fireworks displays along the shore. This far north, the sun finally set just past 9:30 p.m., yet we were still seeing remnants of dusk on the far horizon as we pulled into the Blue and White Motel in Kalispell, nearing the 23rd hour of a long day.

Glacier to Yellowstone – Day 1

Caroline Wise and John Wise leaving Phoenix, Arizona

We’ve wanted to make this trip for some time now, and finally, here we are. What exactly is the objective beyond the descriptive title already telling you that we are traveling from Glacier to Yellowstone? Well, the fact that we are not starting in Montana for one and the other overarching part of the story is that we’d wanted to drive from Phoenix to the Canadian border in the shortest possible time for a while now. Of course, being who we are, there was no way that we’d simply drive north and south again without many stops between. So here we go on a quick five-day, nearly 3,000-mile (4,800 km) trek up and back.

The Gap in Northern Arizona

We thought we were getting out of town early enough at 2:30 in the afternoon, but so did thousands of others. Stuck in traffic, baking in our rental car, when the temperature is pushing 112 can test anyone’s patience, but after the slog comes the respite when on the approach to Flagstaff at 7,000 feet of elevation, the temperature is a solid 20 degrees cooler than at points south. On the other side of Flag, we stop at the small Navajo village of Cameron for gas, but more importantly, we find the calming indulgence of an ice cream sandwich to be the elixir that soothes the savage beast. Yet another stop, this one only 30 miles north of the last. We are at The Gap Trading Post, where the scenery of Echo Canyon demands attention and we decided that we’ve sped past this trading post once too many times and that we have enough time to stop in this afternoon. I left with beef jerky and Caroline with some yarn.

Crossing the Colorado River on the Navajo Bridge in Northern Arizona

Maybe you noticed it’s late in the day and that we are only about 270 miles from where we started. In case you don’t know where we are, this is the Colorado River downstream from Lees Ferry, and if we are standing over the river, that can only mean we are on the Navajo Bridge near Marble Canyon, Arizona. We still had about 250 miles to drive tonight, so, with no time to waste and the light fading fast, we had to keep on moving north.

Onto the Kaibab Scenic Byway, we drive through Jacob Lake, where a turnoff takes visitors to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, up through Fredonia, where I have my umpteenth encounter with an old tune from the Marx Brothers that has been stuck in my head for nearly 30 years. Once in Utah, it’s only a short drive to Kanab and the Moqui Cave that after two previous visits, we don’t feel bad about passing this time. Time for giggles on the approach to Mt. Carmel Junction, where our favorite neon sign in Utah always elicits laughter. That sign is found at the Thunderbird Restaurant, which is billed as the “Home of the Ho Made Pies,” leaving us wondering just who is the ho that makes their pies.

We followed Highway 89 into the night before reaching the town of Richfield. Because of the time zone change that comes with entering Utah, it was nearly midnight by the time we lay our heads down.

Hopi Reservation – Day 2

Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona

We’re back on the road at 7:00 a.m. This time, we head west on I-40 to the Leupp Corner turnoff, which should be Highway 2, and follow this road to Second Mesa. The very name of the people: “Hopi,” which is short for Hopituh Shi-nu-mu, translates to “The Peaceful People.” Hopi can also be translated as: “behaving one, one who is mannered, civilized, peaceable, polite, who adheres to the Hopi way.” I want to be Hopi, too.

Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona

This drive is somehow more beautiful than Highway 87. It might be the rising red rock cliff faces that we approach from time to time or the enchanting lizard we spent 20 minutes trying to get a photo of. While visiting Walpi yesterday, there actually had been a Kachina doll carving that had spoken to Caroline, but at the time she had not told me. This morning, she mentioned this to me, and I suggested we go back and take another look.

Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona

But before that, we are going back to Hotevilla, where we will have the opportunity to witness the Kachina Clowns and their antics before the Ogre Kachina enters the square. We have a nice chat where we are standing with a couple that is vacationing in the southwest and are at their first Kachina dance too. Driving from Wisconsin, this couple is as enamored as we are. The gentleman’s wife is a teacher, and she’s enthusiastic about returning home and trying to impart to her grade school class some of her excitement for the Hopi that she’s experiencing. It’s nice to meet other travel nuts. We leave shortly after they do, satisfied that we had such a fortunate opportunity.

Back at Walpi, we explained to the ladies in front of the visitor center that we wanted to buy a particular Kachina. Visitors normally have to wait for a tour, but the center was closed for a short break. We explained approximately where we’d seen the Kachina but couldn’t say exactly from whom; lucky for us; it worked this way. One of the ladies thought we must have been at “Grandmother’s” and told us we could walk back and find out – wow, what an honor. We were to walk over the Mesa to Walpi to find Grandmother, unescorted. Back past open doors and blowing screens, passing hundreds of years of history. We kick up the dust, and the dogs look up long enough to see we have no food in our hands. A Hopi man comes up behind us. We’re certain he’ll tell us to turn around that there’s been a mistake, but he has Kachina dolls in his hands and wants to interest us in his work. We explain we are looking for Grandmother, and he says okay before motioning us on.

A door opens and invites us to look at some pottery; we try to politely decline as we are focused on finding the Katsina from the day earlier. Just before the imposing sign telling us we are entering Walpi and that we must have a guide or permission, a young man signals for us to come over; we step inside his small one-room home to look at his work as a Katsina and explain that we are looking for a man who was at Grandmother’s, and so we continue the last 75 feet to Grandmother’s house. Although the door is open, the guy on the porch is not sitting where he had been yesterday; the house looks empty in its silence, with only the wind moving inside. We gently knock, figuring by now that our opportunity to find this artist has vanished for this weekend and so probably the chance to bring home with us the Kachina doll Caroline was endeared to.

A soft answer to our knock asks us to come in and then invites us to sit down. This is Olive Tony, who just might be the oldest inhabitant of the First Mesa and the entire Hopi Reservation. She tells us she is 93; others say 91. Doesn’t matter; this lady is strong, charming, and so incredibly gracious. Earlier in the day, she was curing a half dozen pieces of pottery on a fire of burning sheep dung when the winds whipped the flames too close to the pottery, thus making them less than perfect and hence not worth what they might have been. We explain who we are looking for and she informs us that his name is Hominy. We thank her, pass on the pottery, and head out. Returning to the car the last man we passed on the way to Grandmother’s hears we are looking for Hominy and seems enthusiastic that we are looking for him and wishes us luck. A few more steps on our return and a lady steps out and asks if we’d like to take a look at her and her husband’s pottery; we oblige and enter their home. To contain our excitement, it would be an understatement to say we would have liked to jump around like little children at the candy counter; our luck was dumbfounding us. As we entered her home, our host took her seat and gave us an informal lesson on how Hopi pottery is created, how the paint is made from the mustard plant, and how she prepares the yucca leaves for use as a paintbrush. All we can do is explain that we, unfortunately, aren’t in the position to purchase pottery today as we are trying to find a man by the name of Hominy and that we will be purchasing one of his Kachina dolls, again a sort of excitement that this is the person we are looking for and we are wished good luck again. On the way out the door, we spot a box of Piki bread and ask if it’s for sale; it is, so we stock up and leave.

Back at the visitor center, we tell the first vendor that we are looking for Hominy, and she exclaims that this is the father of her granddaughter and offers to track him down for us. The first phone call didn’t go through; cell reception is not always good up here. We gave her some change for the payphone, and she headed over to where a little girl joined her; after a few minutes, she came over and told us that Hominy was at home; he couldn’t find a ride up to First Mesa on this day. Hopi road instructions are great, not exactly what most of us can easily interpret, but we were getting closer to our goal, so we would try to follow the instructions that told us to go to where the road forks, go this way until you see a building over there and then go this way to the sandy area, then go this way over the hill, and you’ll come to his house.

Pulling out, we get a knock at the window; it’s our guide from yesterday; she says that the girl who had been near the phone was Hominy’s daughter and that her dad wondered if we could bring the girl with us with the added benefit she could guide us to his house – bingo. We would never have found this house without our young guide and the help of everyone up on First Mesa, but here we are in Keams Canyon, about to meet Hominy of Bear Clan. Again, we are invited into a Hopi home; our inclination is to bow down in gratitude that these people are so welcoming. After introductions, no time is lost getting to business, and as luck would have it this day, the Kachina doll Caroline had wished for was still in his possession. Sure enough, this was a beautiful carving from the root of a cottonwood tree that was shaped into such a beautiful creation. Sitting atop is the Snow Maiden, below is the Sun Maiden, under her is the Longhair Maiden, and below that is the Yellow Corn Maiden. Hominy explained that he felt this was a representation of the four seasons. A big thank you to this Katsina and an extra thank you to his daughter for helping us find her father and we were merrily driving east to the Navajo Reservation to finish our day.

But something happened as we were leaving the Hopi Reservation; we couldn’t help thinking of Grandmother, another U-turn. For the third time in a couple of days, we are once again pulling up on First Mesa. A thank you again to the young girl’s grandmother for helping us find Hominy and the explanation that we wanted to visit Grandmother again because we had decided to pick up a piece of her pottery. With a beeline precision and a growing familiarity, we are within moments of knocking on Olive Tony’s door; again, we are welcomed to step inside. A dozen thank you’s are offered to this kindly old Hopi lady, and we choose a little vase before departing, one that was ‘ruined’ by the firing the day earlier. Walking out the door, Olive asks if we could take her down the hill to the grocery as visitors have been few and far between; plus, she had recently gotten her retirement/government check; they come once a month, $20 every 30 days! Wow, you live to nearly 100 years old, and you are one of the links to a great culture almost destroyed by modernization, and this is how you are cared for. If it weren’t for the honor of being able to help this lady, it might have been a sad day, but nothing was going to stand in the way of this fortunate weekend. We took Grandmother down the mesa to the store, she picked up a few essentials, we slipped the grocer payment, she cashed her check and we trudged back up the mesa for the fourth and last time this weekend. Olive offered us a small clay dish in gratitude; we tried to let her know that nothing more than a thank you was necessary, but she insisted, and so we were now in possession of a second beautiful little piece of handwork from this most gracious of ladies. She tells us as we are leaving that she is like a plant that has grown up and is now getting closer to the earth before returning. We don’t know what her life had been like before this day, but today, she helped make these wonderful moments on Walpi a better one for two strangers. A day looking out on America to better look back on ourselves.

Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona

With such an amazing experience locked in our hearts, it was time to wander out.

Kachina on the Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona

Then, when it felt right we pulled over and took the Kachina and placed it on the rocks where we could photograph it while still on Hopi lands. Snow Maiden, Sun Maiden, Longhair Maiden, and Yellow Corn Maiden are represented, and they are perfectly beautiful in our eyes.

Hopi Reservation

Hospitality in the Hopi Nation is like this sand here: abundant and nearly infinite.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Hopi Reservation in Northern Arizona

Thank you, Hopi People, for welcoming us to your lands and helping create such a wonderful weekend.