I've been home less than 24 hours and I am ready to leave. My parents' home is like a scene frozen in time, everything where they left it several weeks ago when they departed for New Mexico. I've not encountered any ghosts, but I did open all the drapes. The darkness was tomb-like. Fortunately, I did have my list of things to do, but having accomplished most of them in one morning, it is becoming apparent that I will have some serious free time in the next few weeks to fill.
The drive to Santa Fe was perfect. Most of the mileage was on the Navajo and Hopi reservations and provided an extended glimpse of daily life in rural eastern Arizona. So many of the towns' names were quite familiar to me, so it was fun to see them in person for the first time. And it was a reminder of how vast these two reservations are in square miles. From one mesa to the next might be 10 to 15 miles with nothing but a long, straight road in between. In Albuquerque and Santa, however, reality quickly set back in with afternoon rush hour traffic. I was ready to return to the tranquility of the North Rim sooner than I thought!
After a few days of rest, some great meals at my favorite spots and the planned maintenance of the Jeep, it was off to Abilene. It may be a dull place otherwise, but the bed at the Hampton Inn was one of the most comfortable I've slept in this year. I even went swimming in the pool and had a soak in the hot tub after a tasty BBQ dinner at Joe Allen's, a mainstay in Abilene's gastronomic scene. Then, on Sunday, the highlight of the trip home was only a few hundred miles to the southeast -- Austin!
If it wasn't so damn big and overcrowded, Austin would be my paradise. The weather never seems bad, the food is everything I love, from BBQ to burgers to beer gardens, and if you like the outdoors, this city is the perfect destination. From a run on the trails that stretch along the river downtown to an afternoon at Lake Travis on a sunny day, what more could anyone ask for. The friends I visited and stayed with are also a big part of what makes this place so special. The Marstons are nothing less than a second family and represent a friendship that goes back to the early 70s when we were at SMU. And Mark and Luann Glowacz, with their two little boys, are wonderful reminders of what my experience as a Sigma Chi chapter advisor at Drake University will always mean to me...even with kids in tow, the perfect "little brother."
Well, despite the title, there is no clock ticking away the minutes, simply the leaves falling and the sunlight fading on my first day home. The post office was still there, the Japanese restaurant was open for a quick lunch with my pal, Julia, who filled me in on the latest at my former employer, and best of all, my hair stylist was thrilled to shear off three months of grey hair. She even swept it into a big pile and exclaimed "that's you!" Shreveport, it would seem, is much the same as I left it. No wonder I miss that big "hole in the ground" in Arizona even more!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The clock struck 12
I could not think of a title for the life of me until the APR announcer mentioned it was midnight and I realized my day of departure had arrived!
My last hike on the Arizona Trail was the perfect way to end this season. A nice meander through the North Rim's famous meadows and the Ponderosa pines of the Kaibab National Forest ended with a snack on a log at the edge of a clearing. Dinner in the EDR was adequate, but I was more interested in watching LSU beat South Carolina on my laptop in the room, so I don't even remember what was on the menu. Today was even less adequate, but once again I had more important things to do. One of the cooks, however, did turn out a batch of lemon squares that were so close to the ones I love at Cafe Pierremont in Shreveport, I imagined it a sign from above that it was time to go home. To end the evening, I finally had a few minutes to spend with a few friends, people that have become a part of my daily life. Some I will see soon, others may never cross my path again. Undoubtedly, I will see Brody and Allan next month in Simi Valley on my way to Canada, but beyond those "little brothers" I have had to recognize that for many people this is a gypsy lifestyle. I don't believe it is something I would enjoy, but for some of my friends loading everything they own in their car and taking off for the next resort is perfectly acceptable. And if the Grand Canyon North Rim never sees them again, few people will notice. I will, but that is just unrealistic me!
Before I turn in (it's 534 miles to Santa Fe), I thought I would close with what are a few things I know many of you might be wondering...what's tops on my list of things to do after six months at the Grand Canyon.
So, here's a Top Ten List direct from New Dorm Room 208:
My last hike on the Arizona Trail was the perfect way to end this season. A nice meander through the North Rim's famous meadows and the Ponderosa pines of the Kaibab National Forest ended with a snack on a log at the edge of a clearing. Dinner in the EDR was adequate, but I was more interested in watching LSU beat South Carolina on my laptop in the room, so I don't even remember what was on the menu. Today was even less adequate, but once again I had more important things to do. One of the cooks, however, did turn out a batch of lemon squares that were so close to the ones I love at Cafe Pierremont in Shreveport, I imagined it a sign from above that it was time to go home. To end the evening, I finally had a few minutes to spend with a few friends, people that have become a part of my daily life. Some I will see soon, others may never cross my path again. Undoubtedly, I will see Brody and Allan next month in Simi Valley on my way to Canada, but beyond those "little brothers" I have had to recognize that for many people this is a gypsy lifestyle. I don't believe it is something I would enjoy, but for some of my friends loading everything they own in their car and taking off for the next resort is perfectly acceptable. And if the Grand Canyon North Rim never sees them again, few people will notice. I will, but that is just unrealistic me!
Before I turn in (it's 534 miles to Santa Fe), I thought I would close with what are a few things I know many of you might be wondering...what's tops on my list of things to do after six months at the Grand Canyon.
So, here's a Top Ten List direct from New Dorm Room 208:
- Get a haircut. Nothing says "old hippie terrorist" like grey hair sticking out of a baseball cap.
- Get my shoes shined. I did my best, but eventually the dust and dirt of the Grand Canyon won out.
- Clean up the Jeep. And that includes fixing the fender flare knocked loose when Allan and I were playing "Rat Patrol" on the Point Sublime Road.
- Eat BBQ. And Japanese. And real New Mexican. And French. And a real breakfast at the La Fonda Hotel.
- Resume regular e-mail and phone calls with my buddies who assumed I was on another planet. I was.
- Meet my favorite philosophy department chair at Centenary College for a long lunch.
- Work a N-Y Times Sunday puzzle with my uncle to prove I am still on top of my game.
- Have a real smoothie from Shane's Smoothie Shack...God, I have missed those!
- See the nieces and nephews. Remember me? Uncle Shelbs?
- And, finally, on November 4th, vote for "that one" for President of the United States!
From the Grand Canyon North Rim Lodge...happy trails!
Friday, October 17, 2008
Packing anxiety or why I got a 4-door Jeep
With only 56 hours remaining those of you who know what an obsessive I am about order and organization will realize that I am beginning to get very fidgety as I look around my dorm room and try to imagine it all being squeezed into my Wrangler. It actually seems so innocent and unaware of what is about to happen sitting in its usual parking spot. Like one of the multitude of deer grazing the property with the stealthy OCD cougar about to pounce! Fortunately, if I can make it to Santa Fe, it will be returned to its normal state by Monday night.
Closing the lodge has been a fascinating exercise in controlled chaos. The accounting department has been relatively calm compared to somewhere like the dining room or the general store. Everyone is cleaning and counting and preparing the lodge for the winter ahead. And if you are curious, indeed two couples stay here for winter maintenance, using snowmobiles to get about. I prefer the summer, however, so no matter how exciting or "The Shining"-like this might seem, it would get old very fast. Or creepy. Or both.
In our department, we were simply preparing each day's reports and deposit with today being the final one to do that. Now, it is up to us to wrap up a few loose ends and prepare the contents of the safe for transport back to the bank. Sounds easy, but consider this: when I closed out all the vending machines and we unloaded the laundry and showers, we were left with more than 16-thousand quarters to roll and box up for shipment. That occupied most of our day Friday and I will get a much-deserved day off before I finish my contract on Sunday with the aforementioned safe preparation.
On a personal level, beyond the stress of packing, I am slowly seeing the staff disappear as their contracts conclude. First to go, in fact, was my dear friend, Willa, the history teacher who left on Thursday. We will cross paths again soon, but that was the first goodbye that meant something. We drove to Kanab Wednesday night for one more dinner at The Rocking V. The moon was brilliant overhead and the deer were out in huge numbers, so much so that I accidentally popped one on the rump when it didn't clear my front end in time as it bolted across Highway 67. Neither was hurt - the Jeep or the deer - but it gave us a start nonetheless. On the way back, I let her drive the last 20 miles, a sight to see with her barely able to peer over the steering wheel!
I am told that Saturday evening will be exceptionally quiet when I get back from my last hike but enough staff will remain to continue the winterization of the property, so I'll have someone to dine with. Of course, that includes several people I will miss tremendously, especially my favorite housekeeping buddy and "Dennis the Menace" lookalike, Brody Johnson. We'll meet once more before he leaves for the Ukraine and I leave for Canada, but we've also said more than once how much this has become our home, so even a temporary parting of the ways carries with it a bit of sadness.
As I draft this, Saturday has arrived. The weather should be perfect for one more walk in the woods and meadows of the North Rim. As I do that, I will consider, too, what to share in my last posting from our little sanctuary on the plateau. Good night, all!
Closing the lodge has been a fascinating exercise in controlled chaos. The accounting department has been relatively calm compared to somewhere like the dining room or the general store. Everyone is cleaning and counting and preparing the lodge for the winter ahead. And if you are curious, indeed two couples stay here for winter maintenance, using snowmobiles to get about. I prefer the summer, however, so no matter how exciting or "The Shining"-like this might seem, it would get old very fast. Or creepy. Or both.
In our department, we were simply preparing each day's reports and deposit with today being the final one to do that. Now, it is up to us to wrap up a few loose ends and prepare the contents of the safe for transport back to the bank. Sounds easy, but consider this: when I closed out all the vending machines and we unloaded the laundry and showers, we were left with more than 16-thousand quarters to roll and box up for shipment. That occupied most of our day Friday and I will get a much-deserved day off before I finish my contract on Sunday with the aforementioned safe preparation.
On a personal level, beyond the stress of packing, I am slowly seeing the staff disappear as their contracts conclude. First to go, in fact, was my dear friend, Willa, the history teacher who left on Thursday. We will cross paths again soon, but that was the first goodbye that meant something. We drove to Kanab Wednesday night for one more dinner at The Rocking V. The moon was brilliant overhead and the deer were out in huge numbers, so much so that I accidentally popped one on the rump when it didn't clear my front end in time as it bolted across Highway 67. Neither was hurt - the Jeep or the deer - but it gave us a start nonetheless. On the way back, I let her drive the last 20 miles, a sight to see with her barely able to peer over the steering wheel!
I am told that Saturday evening will be exceptionally quiet when I get back from my last hike but enough staff will remain to continue the winterization of the property, so I'll have someone to dine with. Of course, that includes several people I will miss tremendously, especially my favorite housekeeping buddy and "Dennis the Menace" lookalike, Brody Johnson. We'll meet once more before he leaves for the Ukraine and I leave for Canada, but we've also said more than once how much this has become our home, so even a temporary parting of the ways carries with it a bit of sadness.
As I draft this, Saturday has arrived. The weather should be perfect for one more walk in the woods and meadows of the North Rim. As I do that, I will consider, too, what to share in my last posting from our little sanctuary on the plateau. Good night, all!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The leaves of brown came tumbling down
It was only a few months ago that I was unloading my Jeep and deciding which bed I would take in my new dorm room. The trepidation of who would be my roommate was tempered by the discovery that my initial fears of some tiny space to live for almost six months were unfounded, but still it would be a new experience to say the least. Now, four roommates later I am still here and once again contemplating how all this stuff could fit in a Jeep, but simply in reverse. And with seven days remaining on my contract, it is time to pack up for the winter and I've acquired a few additional possessions, including a refrigerator, which obviously I cannot leave behind. Oh well, there is always UPS and my parents' garage.
More important, I have completed my commitment. Certainly I never believed that I wouldn't finish this grand experiment in semi-retirement, but there was always the unspoken option of simply leaving if I discovered that it was not my cup of tea. Tonight, drinking a beer or two in the pub with several other middle-aged semi-retirees, it struck me that no matter the sacrifices that must be made, this is truly a remarkable place to prove something to yourself. In my mind, it was simply that I could fit in and make a contribution that would be significant and positive in this first year for this company to operate the resort and at the same time reward me with friendships that will extend well beyond my own first season. I have done both and as testament to my desire to come back, when quizzed by my fellow bar mates I was able to immediately rattle off a half dozen things I plan to do next year that went unaccomplished this year.
Outside it is 27 degrees. The winds are calm tonight, but the last few days have seen gusts as high as 65 mph and the closure of two of the most popular viewpoints because the roads were blocked by downed trees. Even the lodge was compelled to lower their huge metal shutters to protect guests from a possible shattered window in the auditorium or dining room. The sun room was anything but, too. We also experienced a lengthy power failure and for several days operated on a huge generator the National Park Service fired up to keep the park open. Naturally, everyone was asked to conserve electricity, so there was a certain dim bunker-like atmosphere to what is usually a very lively lobby after most of the lighting was turned off. So far, the predicted snow has not arrived, but between now and the 20th, it would only be fitting if it did.
Next Monday, if everything stays on track, I plan to head to Santa Fe for a few days, then on to Austin through the 30th to visit friends and a favorite "little brother." Meantime, I am trying to determine if this will simply be the first chapter in an ongoing narrative or a brief short story to share with people when a conversation begins to lag. In mid-November, I will embark on what I am calling my "Canadian Odyssey 2008," a 28-day circumnavigation of the continent by rail that will take me up the West Coast, across Canada and back through Chicago before returning to New Mexico. That might be even more interesting reading, but for now I have a few more days here to worry about. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of "At the North Rim"...on your local PC or Mac. One more exciting week to go!
More important, I have completed my commitment. Certainly I never believed that I wouldn't finish this grand experiment in semi-retirement, but there was always the unspoken option of simply leaving if I discovered that it was not my cup of tea. Tonight, drinking a beer or two in the pub with several other middle-aged semi-retirees, it struck me that no matter the sacrifices that must be made, this is truly a remarkable place to prove something to yourself. In my mind, it was simply that I could fit in and make a contribution that would be significant and positive in this first year for this company to operate the resort and at the same time reward me with friendships that will extend well beyond my own first season. I have done both and as testament to my desire to come back, when quizzed by my fellow bar mates I was able to immediately rattle off a half dozen things I plan to do next year that went unaccomplished this year.
Outside it is 27 degrees. The winds are calm tonight, but the last few days have seen gusts as high as 65 mph and the closure of two of the most popular viewpoints because the roads were blocked by downed trees. Even the lodge was compelled to lower their huge metal shutters to protect guests from a possible shattered window in the auditorium or dining room. The sun room was anything but, too. We also experienced a lengthy power failure and for several days operated on a huge generator the National Park Service fired up to keep the park open. Naturally, everyone was asked to conserve electricity, so there was a certain dim bunker-like atmosphere to what is usually a very lively lobby after most of the lighting was turned off. So far, the predicted snow has not arrived, but between now and the 20th, it would only be fitting if it did.
Next Monday, if everything stays on track, I plan to head to Santa Fe for a few days, then on to Austin through the 30th to visit friends and a favorite "little brother." Meantime, I am trying to determine if this will simply be the first chapter in an ongoing narrative or a brief short story to share with people when a conversation begins to lag. In mid-November, I will embark on what I am calling my "Canadian Odyssey 2008," a 28-day circumnavigation of the continent by rail that will take me up the West Coast, across Canada and back through Chicago before returning to New Mexico. That might be even more interesting reading, but for now I have a few more days here to worry about. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of "At the North Rim"...on your local PC or Mac. One more exciting week to go!
Saturday, October 4, 2008
At the end of the tunnel
There is only one positive on a day like this. The Jeep is getting a free car wash.
It was only days ago that I was on a trail in the western reaches of the Kanab River Wilderness that borders one of my favorite sections of the North Rim. It had been cloudy most of the morning, but the sun had finally broken through and after a nice snack-filled lunch under a huge reddish-tinted rock formation, I was actually enjoying an hour or so of rest. And unlike the beach, this suntan was free of all the things I don't enjoy about going to the shore, particularly the people and traffic. It was also a chance to do what I promised in my last posting and give serious thought to the offer that is now on the table -- to return next season as a manager or payroll supervisor. I have not had a chance to discuss the details of either, but since the "talk on the street" or maybe in this case, "the trail," is that I will be back, I am assuming they have read my mind before I have done so. And if last weekend's hike is any guide, the sheer enjoyment I got from it might offer a clue to my ultimate decision.
It is funny how a place like this can grow on you. I am only a few days from leaving for Santa Fe (and Austin) and what I think will be a rather fun way to spend the rest of the year, traveling across Canada on a CanRail pass after visiting my ex-roomie Allan in Simi Valley, California. Yet, with all the satisfaction that comes with completing a season and closing the lodge for the winter, some of us seem to have a tinge of melancholy in our voices when we discuss the inevitable goodbyes later this month. Conversations that once dwelled on what we would be doing on our next day off, now discuss what we plan to do next year that will make that season more fun than this one. There are the also the little gestures that color every day like exchanging phone numbers or ensuring that e-mail addresses or winter plans are clearly outlined so everyone will stay in touch. And, as mentioned a few minutes ago, the inevitable question of who will be coming back and, if so, doing what.
Today, however, October has held true to the prediction. It was as if a switch was flipped and the temperatures that warmed me on that rock last Saturday have plummeted bringing with them gloomy days and stormy weather. What had been planned as a full day on the Arizona Trail is being spent listening to "Car Talk" on NPR and writing this. The weather.com radar is suggesting this afternoon might be enjoyable, but still there is nothing more bleak than sitting on the edge of this or any other national park watching the rain come down with your pack and cameras ready to go.
Well, it's happened again, as the guys on the radio are suggesting. I've wasted another hour ruminating about my home here on the rim. It is now pouring down outside, so maybe this is the brunt of the weather for today. Meantime, lunch is being served in the EDR and I need to close out the pub's register so it will be ready to open for business tonight. Maybe that poncho I used in British Columbia will be handy this afternoon. It won't be a perfect day in paradise, but at least the Jeep will be clean!
It was only days ago that I was on a trail in the western reaches of the Kanab River Wilderness that borders one of my favorite sections of the North Rim. It had been cloudy most of the morning, but the sun had finally broken through and after a nice snack-filled lunch under a huge reddish-tinted rock formation, I was actually enjoying an hour or so of rest. And unlike the beach, this suntan was free of all the things I don't enjoy about going to the shore, particularly the people and traffic. It was also a chance to do what I promised in my last posting and give serious thought to the offer that is now on the table -- to return next season as a manager or payroll supervisor. I have not had a chance to discuss the details of either, but since the "talk on the street" or maybe in this case, "the trail," is that I will be back, I am assuming they have read my mind before I have done so. And if last weekend's hike is any guide, the sheer enjoyment I got from it might offer a clue to my ultimate decision.
It is funny how a place like this can grow on you. I am only a few days from leaving for Santa Fe (and Austin) and what I think will be a rather fun way to spend the rest of the year, traveling across Canada on a CanRail pass after visiting my ex-roomie Allan in Simi Valley, California. Yet, with all the satisfaction that comes with completing a season and closing the lodge for the winter, some of us seem to have a tinge of melancholy in our voices when we discuss the inevitable goodbyes later this month. Conversations that once dwelled on what we would be doing on our next day off, now discuss what we plan to do next year that will make that season more fun than this one. There are the also the little gestures that color every day like exchanging phone numbers or ensuring that e-mail addresses or winter plans are clearly outlined so everyone will stay in touch. And, as mentioned a few minutes ago, the inevitable question of who will be coming back and, if so, doing what.
Today, however, October has held true to the prediction. It was as if a switch was flipped and the temperatures that warmed me on that rock last Saturday have plummeted bringing with them gloomy days and stormy weather. What had been planned as a full day on the Arizona Trail is being spent listening to "Car Talk" on NPR and writing this. The weather.com radar is suggesting this afternoon might be enjoyable, but still there is nothing more bleak than sitting on the edge of this or any other national park watching the rain come down with your pack and cameras ready to go.
Well, it's happened again, as the guys on the radio are suggesting. I've wasted another hour ruminating about my home here on the rim. It is now pouring down outside, so maybe this is the brunt of the weather for today. Meantime, lunch is being served in the EDR and I need to close out the pub's register so it will be ready to open for business tonight. Maybe that poncho I used in British Columbia will be handy this afternoon. It won't be a perfect day in paradise, but at least the Jeep will be clean!
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