Signs and Wonders
Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.
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| Taking the jr ranger pledge |
A teen who finds it mortifying to have her mother speak to
her friends willingly takes her third pledge in a week to become a junior
ranger.
A long-in-advance hotel reservation at a well-reviewed,
inexpensive family motel isn’t in the computer. And the motel has changed
ownership. And the woman who took it over has run off to Vegas and her son is “trying
to make a go of it.”
Thankfully, there was an available room, exactly what we needed.
And while it’s obvious the motel is experiencing a sad downturn in
circumstances, we got there before it really hits the inevitable rock bottom.
Travel is full of unforeseen turns and mysterious sights.
Sometimes it works out fine, sometimes things get complicated. So far nothing
has gotten too complicated.
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| Garden goddesses |
In the last four days, we’ve explored a lot. One day we saw Garden
of the Gods in Colorado Springs, the Penny Arcade in Manitou Springs, and Helen
Hunt.
We’ve seen Black Canyon of the Gunnison, an unplanned but
lovely digression. We enjoyed the Ouray hot springs. We drove the magical road
from Ouray, past Silverton, through Durango, an Alpine wonderland. We’ve
watched the land unfold into red and brown rock and sand as we moved into
Arizona. We’ve crested the canyon rim to peer into Lake Powell’s lovely water.
And this morning we explored lower Antelope Canyon, which unfurled in twists
and turns through red and orange waves of compressed sand.
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This swimmer is trying to
get rid of peak pruny-ness.
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The hot spring pools surprised one of our travelers by being
actual pools. “I thought we’d be sitting in a circle of rocks, like in Iceland.”
Even though it wasn’t what she thought, it was wonderful nonetheless, wedged in
between two rocky canyon walls in a town nicknamed “the Switzerland of America.”
The road to Durango lulled the passengers to sleep in spite
of its majesty, so I had some time alone with my thoughts as I alternated
between awestruck wonder and terror at the steep grade of the road. I also had
a fond, shuddering memory of Molas Lake Campground as we passed, which is the
most beautiful campground I’ve ever been in, and also the coldest rain I’ve
ever set up a tent in.
The girls came suddenly to life when we realized we were
passing the area of a Durango wildfire. We even saw a few flames as we were
part of a sheriff-escorted caravan down the highway. Helicopters were dropping
fire retardant on pop-up fires just up the hill. Today we found out that the day we drove through, the fire, which had been 70% contained, doubled in size because of the wind.
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| Lower Antelope Canyon |
Currently the troops are bobbing in the water of Lake
Powell, playing games and playing at adulthood.
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| Lake Powell beauti |
We have also wondered over some mysterious signs along the
way:
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“Chaining Up Station”—is this where you leave
naughty children?
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A part of a reservoir recreation area, named Bay
of Chickens. We saw no chickens. Not even ducks.
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A series of signs that started with a silhouette
of a cow with the text “10 miles.” We did see some cows. Then a sign that
showed a horse and said “5 miles.” We saw wild horses. Then there was a sign with
the silhouette of a person that said “1 mile.” And a woman with her child was
standing on the side of the road within that mile. Were they wild people? We
will never know. You can’t just stop and ask things like this.
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“Cattle Guard” signs, which turned out to be
referring to metal grates that keep cows from crossing a road, but one
passenger was convinced there was a man stationed there to guard the cattle.
Was that a llama or an alpaca?
Was that a bison or a buffalo?
Was that a bull or a yak?
We see so much, but there is still so much we don’t know.
Living in the space of that mystery is where the true adventure lies. Who knows
what will happen next? Who knows what we’ll see next? Who knows how our plans
will be changed?
We don’t have to have all the answers to find great beauty.
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