Tucson Again

Hotel Congress in Tucson, Arizona

Hotel Congress is the place to be.
Criminal livin’ is the life for me.
Jail spreadin’ out so far and wide.
Keep that freedom; just give me John Dillinger.

So it doesn’t much rhyme, so what? It was the first jingle that came to mind, and I’m not about to give any considerable time to writing the opening to a blog entry that really just needs to tell you that we stayed at Hotel Congress, where John Dillinger was arrested along with his gang and sent back to Indiana. Eventually, he broke out of jail there and continued his crime spree, never to return to Tucson.

Cup of Coffee

The day started with coffee, from the same cup John Dillinger drank coffee from back in 1934. We sat at the same table Dillinger ate breakfast at before shooting the place up. I had my eggs, bacon, and toast the same way Dillinger had them fixed, and then I took a much-needed leak in the same toilet Dillinger did before he shot it, too. I went back for more coffee and decided to shoot up the place myself, then left for a bank and robbed it – Dillinger style. After returning to the hotel, it caught fire, I leapt from the window, but the coppers nabbed me and sent me back to Indiana, where I escaped from jail to grab a coffee at a local coffee shop at a nearby hotel before shooting my cup of coffee while eating breakfast, pissing, shooting, and robbing in a cycle that had the feeling of a déjà vu. Then I had a coffee.

Tattooed man on 4th Avenue in Tucson, Arizona

Lenny…a guy who should inspire us in our dumber moments to not make characterizations of people we have no idea of who exactly they are.

Scene from the 4th Avenue Winter Street Fair in Tucson, Arizona

Free hugs, now there’s something we need more of. Suppose I wouldn’t have had to turn to a life of bank robbery hanging out with people like Pete had I known more hugs, but today is not a day for hugs. I’m fueled up on coffee and ready to look into the eye of mankind and tackle issues larger than the petty emotional needs of love and acceptance. I’m on a quest to answer questions that take things to the next level.

Angry cigar smoking Santa Claus in Tucson, Arizona

I’m in Alternative-Ville Tucson, and this is Biker Claus chilling while his stable of Harleys gets outfitted with his sleigh before delivering spark plugs to all the good bikers on his naughty list.

A blur of people

Back to my quest. I have been looking for that thing, that essence, that characteristic of non-conformity called real character. Its appearance is fleeting and rarely found. The 1980s gave way to generic Wal-Mart, and Republicans defined total conformity. The majority of people around me are little more than reflections of some popular TV show, their favorite sports team, and the vernacular of idiots created by media to be used by morons little equipped to find their own voice. Defining one’s style is out. Finding your mind, the meaning of life, or exploring new frontiers is the domain of 60’s sci-fi reruns but not of any interest to the current age. I often find myself lamenting the American people’s rapid trajectory to nowhere and asking, “What happened to individuality?” But today, I figured it out; it is dead, and that’s really no problem. Months ago, I may have found this troubling, turns out that my trip to the Grand Canyon helped provide sense to the tragedy. You see, what was wrong with my search for signs of the individual looking for unique self-expression is that this was a nostalgic desire from a guy who has never had much patience for all that nostalgic stuff. I was looking for the inspiration that I felt when I was much younger – today, it just does not exist for me anymore. Here’s where the Grand Canyon comes into play: people are like individual grains of sand, and instead of these folks growing and evolving to form new sandcastles, they have, in a sense – become extinct. They are becoming part of a new layer of sandstone, a part of a fossilizing conglomerate where an individual grain is of no real interest. Each grain is part of the bigger object needing to be seen as a whole that is being eroded, weathered, aged, stained, and reformed as a monolithic representation of a time past lost in the historical record. So I am now left with the task of changing my focus to learn how to see anew, to not search for life in stone, or to expect the petrified remains of what was, to find reanimation.

Caroline Wise eating on the street in Tucson, Arizona

As I shared my newfound vision with Caroline she doubled over nauseous that I should see myself so elevated above the mass of humanity. Retching uncontrollably, my wife stuck her fingers down her throat, and like a priest of a whacky backwoods religion who reaches into the body to remove a tumor, she began to pull out god-knows-what from her mouth. WTF! Oh, wait, this might be the picture of her eating a burrito, my bad.

Joe Cunningham and Rainy Heath in Tucson, Arizona

This is Joe Cunningham, who was smart enough not to be shoving food into his mouth when I was hovering with the camera just inches from his face. The same cannot be said for Ms. Rainy Heath, who knows how to slurp and gobble like a surly wench – as she’s doing in the background. Of course, these three had totally different experiences than my much cooler adventures. They did things like shop for stuff, browse the arts and crafts from the vendors of the 4th Avenue Winter Street Fair, talk with the sellers, and drink Whoopass while I had all the fun.

Sunset on Interstate Ten between Tucson and Phoenix, Arizona

And then there was sunset. We drove home. Night came. Rainy and Joe retired to their respective homes that are not ours. Caroline and I then teleported to a galaxy where we sought out alien life, explored, and traveled where no man had gone before. It was the final frontier and Caroline’s 43rd birthday.

The Only Nice Sunset

Sunset in Phoenix, Arizona

My camera is with me often. I look far and wide for that scene that will demand my attention and stand out against all others. Maybe age has brought cynicism and I am no longer able to appreciate simple beauty. Or maybe a city of cinder block walls punctuated with strip malls leaves the imagination in deficit. Phoenix has become a wasteland to my eyes. I want to see the city I live in with a new perspective but over and over again I look on with mindless disinterest. For beauty, I must look up and out. With too narrow a view and in close up, Phoenix is a blight on a desert paved over for the masses to find their beauty in a three-bedroom two-car garage track home on the corner of Nameless Street and Faceless Road. At least we still have the sky.

Missing the Monsoons

Sunrise in Phoenix, Arizona

It’s the right time of year for the monsoons. There are clouds on the horizon, they even move into the valley, but the rains are not materializing. Well, at least we are having some clouds dot the sky which makes for great sunrises and sunsets. After months of nothing but blue skies, it is a thrill to once again see cumuli in the late day. This morning had low thin clouds aloft but even they are welcome. Funny how some people dream of moving to Florida, California, Nevada, and Arizona to escape the grey days while many of us Phoenicians long for a cold, rainy day with hot chocolate and the patter of raindrops on our windows. Instead, all we get is another perfect day – drats.

Canyonlands to Natural Bridges

Newspaper Rock on the way to The Needles District of Canyonlands National Park in Utah

Updated in 2022: On the previous day’s post I added an addendum while I’m opting to insert some photos I felt were missing from this post. As we headed into Canyonlands, we stopped at Newspaper Rock.

An old abandoned granary at Canyonlands National Park in Utah

Today is Memorial Day, the day we commemorate U.S. soldiers who died in military service. Standing at this abandoned granary in the Needles district of Canyonlands National Park, I can’t help but think that there is not a day set aside to recognize the Native Americans who died during their own military service to defend the lands they called home. If we can have a Martin Luther King Jr day, then I think we can just as easily have a National Day of Recognition for Native Americans.

Cryptobiotic soil in Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The earth I stand upon is actually a trail, and the park service would prefer that I remain on this trail. All around me is cryptobiotic soil. This fragile habitat is what holds the surface together and makes life for many species possible in this arid environment. If you click the picture above to open the larger image, you can see the detail of the cyanobacteria, mosses, and lichen – well, I can only guess that is what you can see because I’m not a biologist, but there is definitely some type of species making the soil its place of dwelling.

The trailhead of the Confluence Overlook Trail in Canyonlands National Park in Utah

We are on our way home today and only visiting the Needles district of Canyonlands National Park for a short time, figuring we shouldn’t be getting home too late. These rocks are at the end of a road where a trail begins that takes visitors out to the confluence overlook of the Colorado and Green rivers. As we were about to leave, we nodded and said hello to two ladies who were donning hiking boots and about to embark on the trail when we recognized them from our hike out to Horseshoe Canyon on Saturday. These ladies from Poland are easily in their mid-60s, if not just about 70, and are a grand inspiration in tackling this nearly 11-mile trail today.

Unidentified plant near Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The end of the road was our destination and turnaround point. On the way back out of Canyonlands, the sun’s position in the sky allowed us to better appreciate the carpet of wildflowers stretching in all directions. So much for making good time up the road as we whipped out the macro lens and tried stopping for each species of flower we could spot – at 5 miles per hour. When what might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity arises that gives you the chance to witness something so spectacular, you must take the time and disregard the potential discomfort or tiredness at a later time, lest you’d look back and feel foolish for hurrying along and missing out on greatness seldom seen.

Unidentified flower near Canyonlands National Park in Utah

Oh, more flowers, more than one could shake two sticks at. I could easily post 15 or more photos of the various types of blossoms that presented themselves roadside on this beautiful day. It took close to an hour to travel the 10 miles between the park exit and Newspaper Rock. Down on our knees or sitting on our butts, we lingered amongst the flowers, taking in their scents and colors. In a week, would they still be here to dazzle those visitors?

Panorama of landscape near Canyonlands National Park in Utah

The scenery out here on a spring day wants to stop the car on its own accord and forces us from our seats to spend a quiet, intimate moment with nature. At this rate, we’ll be home at midnight. When we were here four hours earlier, it was beautiful then, too, but now the light is absolutely perfect. This is one more of those occasions of finding yet another perfect place on earth, one that makes you think, “Hey, I could live here, and then I’d know how the view changes with the day, the season, and the weather.”

Stand of aspen trees near Monticello, Utah in the Manti-La Sal National Forest

We are not far from the main road when a paved road on the right appears to be a detour we haven’t taken before. County Road 136 says it leads to Monticello and so we take it. We begin to climb into the Manti-La Sal National Forest and mountain range. What a find, out of the desert and into the forest. The views from up here stretch for a hundred miles north. While the view was terrific to our eyes, the haze did nothing for the camera and the quality of the images I shot. So instead, I offer these aspen trees, and more specifically, I offer them to my daughter Jessica, who long ago told me that she loves aspen, and now when I see a stand of them, I think of her.

Deer roadside on County Road 101 west of Monticello, Utah

The road was hardly long enough; we could have easily stayed all day on this twisting section of pavement. A couple of patches of snow dotted the hillsides, soon to be gone with summer just around the next corner. More pullouts and some benches to sit for hours and gaze out over Canyonlands to the west, the La Sal mountains to the north, and Ute Mountain to the east over in Colorado would have been welcomed. What was the next best thing? A deer gazing at us. Next to the road at the edge of the forest, a staring contest was begun. Wait a minute, is that a lawn ornament? A silly place for one if it is, ok, it blinked and went back to foraging.

The Peace Tree Juice Cafe in Monticello, Utah

Out of the woods and into town. How is it that the little blip on the road of Monticello, Utah, has this awesome place called The Peace Tree Juice Cafe serving up some great all-natural, organic, fresh, diverse foods, and in Phoenix, we get Applebee’s? There are Peace Tree locations in Moab and Blanding as well; how did we miss stopping in at the Moab location? Drats.

Air Freshener from Torsten Kühne of Frankfurt, Germany

A friend of ours from Frankfurt, Germany, Torsten Kühne, had made a bunch of air fresheners as part of an art project to have people send him photos of the air freshener from around the world.

The trail to Sipapu natural bridge in Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah

A little further south, we arrive at our last stop of this trip, Natural Bridges National Monument. Caroline grabs the Junior Ranger booklet and we scoot to the trail as quickly as we can. This is our second visit to the park, but this particular trail was new for the two of us. We only went as far as the big overhang to view Sipapu Bridge as time was closing in us. The next one, Kachina Bridge we gazed at from the main paved trail. But the third bridge had to be seen from below.

Underneath the Owachomo bridge in Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah

Years ago, we took our picture under this very bridge, the Owachomo Bridge. Somehow, we hadn’t recognized back then that the trail continued under the bridge to where this photo was taken. Look under Owachomo; Caroline is standing there in a yellow shirt. I also learned today that there is a trail that loops for 8.6 miles from Sipapu to Kachina to Owachomo and back to the parking area at Sipapu – it seems like there is always something to come back to in the National Park system.

Caroline Wise getting her Junior Ranger Badge at Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah

Back when Caroline started doing these Junior Ranger programs, little did we know how many she’d collect; adding this is part of our effort to identify the various places and the dates she got them.

Moki Dugway near Mexican Hat, Utah

We often wonder how many times we’ve been to places, and it was just this year when we were trying to figure out if we’d ever driven down the Moki Dugway or if we’d always driven up it. This photo answers that question, as from the series of images, we were obviously on our way down that way.

An empty sales stall at Monument Valley in Utah at sunset

It’s late now, and it no longer really matters how much more time is taken because we will be home somewhere in the middle of the night. So why not stop once more at the Mexican Hat Lodge and grab dinner? We did; I could not resist another swinging steak. We wolfed down dinner, trying to bask in the atmosphere for the brief visit, and were once again going south. As on our trip up north a few days prior, we are passing through Monument Valley again at sunset. The shops have closed up, the natives have gone home, no more jewelry for sale today.

Monument Valley, Arizona

Update in 2022: Why so many images were left out is a mystery to me; maybe I was thinking that we’d already shared too many images of those places.

Passing Through The Res

Sunset north of Kayenta, Arizona on the Navajo Reservation

It’s getting late in the day by the time we are passing through the Navajo Reservation. Tuba City is the first town that, in a few moments, is a distant memory seen in the rearview mirror. The wide-open dusty desert turns those magenta and golden hues that are commonplace up here. Shadows of the mountains and dim outlines of the landscape will soon blur against the darkening sky, but for now, we are being treated to a sunset that is as monumental as the land around us.

Sunset at Monument Valley on the Navajo Reservation in northern Arizona

Change is dramatic in the few minutes before the sun bids adieu and retires for another night. The colors of the sky rapidly morph from golden warmth to hot pink and burning orange, casting the towers of Monument Valley into stark relief before they shrink into the darkness below the horizon. The stars await their emergence to remind the people of their tiny place in this vast universe.

The local band knocking out some tunes for the visitors of Mexican Hat Lodge and the Home of the Swinging Steak in Mexican Hat, Utah

The ritual of nature over her sacred lands soon leaves our attention for the more tenebrous carnal pleasures taken from the lubricous merriment brought on by music, drink, and stuffing of the gullet at the Mexican Hat Lodge in the aptly named Valley of the Gods here in Mexican Hat, Utah. Couples take to the dance floor, beers are sallied forth for the next round, and another steak is thrown on the grill as visitors continue to wander into this tiny enclave next to the San Juan River.

A bottle of Polygamy Porter beer with the swinging grill from the Mexican Hat Lodge in the background

Blending in with the vibe, Caroline opts for a bottle of Polygamy Porter beer while I cast my vote for the biggest steak on the menu.

Grill duties at the Home of the Swinging Steak - Mexican Hat Lodge in Utah

My hunk of flesh will sway on the swinging grill over a roaring mesquite fire for the next 20 minutes. Mexican Hat Lodge is the world-famous home of the “Swinging Steak” – probably one of the best-kept secrets of the travel world. The band plays on, more folks find their way to the dance floor and others are yet to show up as the festivities will continue into the middle of the early summer night.

Teepee room at the Mexican Hat Lodge in Mexican Hat, Utah

For us, the Dionysian spirit is quickly put to sleep in the lone teepee room of the lodge, happy and contented after the feast for eyes, ears, taste, and spirit.

Dry Tortugas Day 2

Sunrise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

It was still dark out around 5:30 when we awoke. In only a few minutes, the first blue-gray twilight would begin to illuminate the morning sky. A thick cloud cover gave doubt whether we would see the sunrise at all, but as the sky filled with a deep red and orange glow, we were glued to the dock, watching the day come into being. As the light spread across the calm, warm waters of the Gulf, an occasional fish would break the surface, leaping for something unseen by us. Mesmerized, we sat there while the world turned from darkness to beauty.

Sunrise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

An hour later and still, we sit dockside, gazing eastward at the oncoming day. The fishermen who also spent the evening on the Dry Tortugas have begun to stir and will soon be gone.

Sunrise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Fortunately for us, the cloud cover was to break up after hanging around the early part of the day to lend dramatic flair to the morning sky and reflective ocean waters. With the dawn comes the idea we could easily have spent days here on this little island paradise.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

By 9:00 a.m., the sun had pushed the clouds to the side, and it was time to get in the water. This is where we would stay until we turned to prunes or got too cold. Our first venture into the sea was in front of our now packed-up campsite on the western shore. Along the wall of the moat, there are more fish here today than yesterday. The waters are also calmer, as is the wind, so visibility is greater, too, making the first swim of the day that much better. Slowly, we float along, watching fish watching us.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Well, float along and avoid the jellyfish.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

The aptly named Needlefish.

John Wise on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

What is it about this photo that is so unflattering? Is the snorkel in my mouth, the squinty eyes, or that I might be confused with a sea monster?

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Come here, Mr. Pelican, I have a little snacky for you! While we did get a photo of a pelican entering the water, it was a bit too abstract and blurry to share, so instead, I present you this guy looking at the strange thing emerging from the depths to take its photo.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Cold and pruney, it was time to warm up with a walk in the sun atop Fort Jefferson for one more view of the azure waters surrounding us.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

What an incredibly small island this really is! We know it’s only 16 acres, but if you look at a satellite image, you’ll better appreciate just how small. You’ll also see why the taller Loggerhead Lighthouse was built, as the water out here is very shallow.

Owl on Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Here we are 70 miles out to sea, and I would have thought it was strange to see an owl this far away from the mainland, but with crabs and maybe some fish in the shallower waters along with rodents and insects, it’s finding enough to keep it healthy. Could it possibly have a mate out here?

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

We try to ignore the time as it won’t be long before a boat arrives that will take us away. Until then, we will bask and try to imagine our eventual return when maybe we could spend three or four days and nights out here. It’s not long before we are both warm and dry, conditions that demand we return to the water.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Caroline takes charge of the camera, giving me the opportunity to stop taking photo after photo and freeing my hands to swim with only my sense of awe working. While she swims further out along the wall, looking for bigger fish to photograph, I meander, spending many a minute studying conch, urchins, and corals. The sun glimmers on the white sands of the ocean floor, and light dances, darts, and flashes on the sides of fish turning as though this were a performance for the big floating stranger looking to be dazzled with the show of nature.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

Our next snorkel venture had us back on the western shore, except this time, Caroline wanted to try going as far as she could around Fort Jefferson. She made it halfway before the winds picked up again, and the choppy water towards the north side of Garden Key had her turning around. Out here on the far side of the moat, the corals are larger, the fish more abundant; we had even seen a leopard shark here earlier in the day on a walk around the moat wall. Sadly, Caroline didn’t see the shark while in the water, but she did get to swim up to a pufferfish. But that elusive pufferfish didn’t stick around for many photos, and the ones Caroline took were too blurry to share here.

Fort Jefferson on Garden Key at the Dry Tortugas National Park

But she really made a serious effort to follow this hogfish around and so I present you with the best of the bunch. From the moat wall, we made the second trip of the day over to the old pilings towards the south of the island. These pilings were once part of a dock that had been used for loading coal over one hundred years ago, but today are a coral sanctuary and a favorite habitat for fish – pelicans too; we watched from below as pelicans dove in the water looking for a quick bite.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on the Gulf of Mexico in Florida

The time we traded to be on Garden Key here at the Dry Tortugas National Park was over too soon. Our memories will be tied to those blue waters and blue skies, wrapping this tiny 16-acre (6.5 hectares) island in a beauty these pictures poorly represent. For a little bit more than 24 hours, life was near perfect.

Gulf of Mexico in Florida

Wait a minute, is that the S.S. Minnow? I tried yelling over to get Gilligan’s attention but I don’t think he could hear me.

Gulf of Mexico in Florida

As the sun drew low in the sky, we would soon approach Key West. Landing, it was as though we were transported into New York City with thick crowds, cars, noise, and buildings all around us. Truth is that Key West itself is a small town with its own laid-back style, but coming from the solitude of that island, there was a moment when even this felt like a metropolis. I can only wonder how difficult it is for those who spend weeks out there to readjust to “normal” life.