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Posts Tagged ‘pat bean’

Southern Utah National Parks

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Favorite Places, Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 18, 2012| 7 Comments »

“Earth Laughs in Flowers.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Just one of the many spectacular skylines at Zion National Park. — Photo by Pat Bean

 

Take Time to Stop and Smell the Flowers

Indian paintbrush growing out of a rock wall. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Indian paintbrush growing out of a rock wall. — Photo by Pat Bean

Having spent many hours in each, although Zion hogged the majority of those hours, I dare to say you won’t find anywhere else in the world that has such a concentrated landscape of awesomeness.

It’s mostly redrock country, with rugged mountain peaks, natural bridges, hoodoos, rivers that roar in early spring and hum softly in late summer and sights that simply take your breath away.

While I’ve found beauty in every state, this is truly a landscape you should not miss. And don’t forget to smell the flowers while you’re at it.

Bean’s Pat: http://tinyurl.com/cfbvevs 30 Ways to Improve Yourself. I’m a sucker for these kind of tips, and these are all practical and doable.  

 

 

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Happy Father’s Day

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on June 17, 2012| 15 Comments »

 “Our fathers had their dreams: we have ours; the generation that follows will have its own. Without dreams and phantoms man cannot exist.” Olive Schreiner

I Miss What I Never Truly Had

My son, Lewis, top, taking time to enjoy his son, Scott, one of his four children. Scott, by the way, leaves for Marine boot camp tomorrow. Happy Father’s Day Lewis — and good luck Scott. — Photo by Pat Bean

My father died in 1975. He was only 62. As he lay in his bed, suffering from emphysema and a stroke, he pantomimed to me that he wanted a cigarette. I replied that the doctor told him he couldn’t smoke.’

He reached for the pad beside his bed and wrote: “To hell with the doctor!”

I gave him a cigarette and sat by his side as he smoked it. He then went to sleep.

Two hours later, when I got up from watching a television program with my mother, and went in to the bedroom to check on him, he was dead.

A few days later, as I sat at his funeral, and when no tears would come, I realized my father had never been there for me.

He was always gone to work before I woke in the morning, and didn’t get home until well after I was in bed. And this went on seven days a week.  It wasn’t that my father worked long hours, it was that he played hard, drinking and gambling.

My son, D.C., left, with Jennifer and David, two of his three children, at Epcot. Happy Father’s Day. D.C. — Photo by Pat Bean

Many were the Friday nights that I listened to my hot-tempered mother scream and yell because my father had spent his pay check before coming home.

I was too young to understand the implications. So it was my mother I hated when I was growing up, instead of the person who was the reason why I went to school with holes in my shoes. It’s because my father was a happy person, even when drunk. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body. He was a true good-timing man.

I still remember the day my mother threw a beer bottle at my dad and knocked him unconscious. I thought he was dead. When he woke up, he just laughed about it, saying he deserved it.

I have no rancor toward my father, and thankfully my mother and I made our peace long before she died. But there is sadness in me that my father had so little time for me, and that he always stood me up when plans had been made.

But I’m truly glad I gave him that last cigarette.

Happy Father’s day Dad – wherever you are

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Close

Posted in Favorite Places, Nature, Travel, Weekly Photo Challenge, tagged , , , , , on June 16, 2012| 7 Comments »

 “I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” Kurt Vonnegut

Close Enough To Get Drenched  

I joined the throngs on the Cave of the Winds’ deck because I didn’t just want to see Niagara Falls, I wanted to be close enough to touch it. And I did, close enough so that the flimsy yellow raincoat I was loaned was as worthless as a pen with no ink. — Photo by Pat Bean

“The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.” Henry Miller

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Lake Powell’s Lone Rock

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on June 15, 2012| 6 Comments »

“Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.” – Saint Augustine

Don’t Get Stuck in the Sand

Lone Rock at Lake Powell — Photo by Pat Bean

Just down the road from Lake Powell’s Wahweap Campground is Lone Rock, an undeveloped beach where RV-ers who can survive without water and electric hookups can spend the night for only $10, or half that with a Golden Age Passport.

It’s where I stayed my very first night on the road in my RV, Gypsy Lee. I remember the night well, beginning with the gatekeeper’s advice: “Don’t get stuck in the sand.”

I didn’t, but I came close. It was all part of getting acquainted with my new home on wheels.

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t find a clear path down to the water, where I saw half a dozen RVs parked by the edge. I finally gave up about halfway down, and stopped. The two RVs that had been following right behind me, as I zigged and zagged around like a sizzling snake firecracker, stopped, too.

I learned, when my canine companion, Maggie, and I went for a walk that they were two German couples who had rented RVs to tour America. Since I had Utah license plates, they assumed I had known where I was going.

Lake Powell” A blue serpentine lake that lies atop the scenic magic of Glen Canyon. — Photo by Pat Bean

We all had a laugh when I explained that this was my first day on the road in my brand new RV.

The sun went down while Maggie and I were taking our stroll. It turned Lone Rock into a golden treasure and painted an orange path across the reflective water. I drank in the wonders around me before Maggie and I trudged though the sand back to our new home.

Later that night, after Maggie and I had shared some tuna casserole, the first meal I cooked on Gypsy Lee’s three-burner propane stove, I watched the sky light up with a million stars through the vent above my overhead bed.

That night was eight years and 132,000 miles ago.

Maggie did 130,000 of those miles with me. My new companion, Pepper, is now my co-pilot. But nothing much else has changed. I still watch the stars overhead at night, and I’m still humming Dr. Seuss words: “Oh the places we’ll go and the things we’ll see …”

Bean’s Pat: http://naturepicsblog.com/I love this blog. It’s a daily bit of nature to start the day, usually just one photo so you don’t get distracted. Today’s was a single sunflower that had not yet opened. 

*This pat-on-the-back recognition is merely this wandering/wondering old broad’s way of bringing attention to a blog I enjoyed – and thought perhaps my readers might, too. June 15, patbean.wordpress.com

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Navajo Mountain

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Books, Favorite Places, Lakes, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on June 13, 2012| 2 Comments »

“Bring me men to match my mountains: Bring me men to match my plains: Men with empires in their purpose and new eras in their brains.” – Sam Walter Foss

Looking beyond Lake Powell to Navajo Mountain — Photo by Pat Bean

And What Changes the Men Have Wrought

Environmentalists have long bemoaned the creation of Lake Powell by the Glen Canyon Dam. The lake drowned the canyon and all its magnificence, wonders that sadly I never got to see. It was done in the name of progress, which requires ever available water and energy.

Lake Powell is popular with boaters — Photo by Pat Bean

The brouhaha about whether it was a good or bad decision continues today – an argument in which I’m not going to take sides. My waffling, fence-straddling, journalistic mind knows both sides have legitimate arguments.

My comment today is just to note how the landscape keeps changing, both by Mother Nature and by men. I thought about this when I stopped to read the roadside marker that points out Navajo Mountain across the lake. This mountain figures prominently in the history and legends of the Navajo people and the ancient Anasazis before that.

Navajo Mountain from space with Lake Powell in the background. — Photo courtesy Johnson Space Center.

The coming of white settlers intruded on these lands, and boundaries were established and re-established until today, when the mountain is once again in the hands of the Navajo Nation. All others have to get a permit to hike the remote areas around the mountain.

Climbing the sacred mountain itself is forbidden.

Thinking of the settlement of the west – I know, my brain hops around like it’s besieged by fire ants – made me think of the “men to match my mountains” quote. I thought Irving Stone, who wrote “Men to Match My Mountains (a really great book), was its author. Instead I discovered it was written by Sam Walter Foss, a 19th century Massachusetts librarian and poet.

Who would have thought? It’s not just fun to wander and wonder. It’s educational, too.

Bean’s Pat:: Hoof Beats and Foot Prints http://tinyurl.com/7ykh73n As a horse lover, I’m fascinated by this blog. But I simply enjoyed the message of this one.

 *This pat-on-the-back recognition is merely this wandering/wondering old broad’s way of bringing attention to a blog I enjoyed – and thought perhaps my readers might, too. June 13, patbean.wordpress.com

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The Nightly Search for A Roost

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Birds, Favorite Places, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on June 12, 2012| 8 Comments »

 “How hard to realize that every camp of men or beast has this glorious starry firmament for a roof … it is easy to realize that whatever special nests we make – leaves and moss like the marmots and birds, or tents or piled stone – we all dwell in a house of one room – the world with firmament for its roof.” –John Muir

Lake Powell — It was here that I spent my first night in my brand new RV, which I call Gypsy Lee — Photo by Pat Bean

I Chose Lake Powell’s Wahweap Campground

Make reservations or go with the flow?

The campground meets my desire for a scenic place for me and my canine traveling companion to take a pleasant walk. — Photo by Pat Bean

That’s a question often on my mind as my canine traveling companion, Pepper, and I roam the country in Gypsy Lee, our 22-foot home on wheels.

I actually do both.

Knowing I have a place to stay for the night lets me enjoy my dawdling sight-seeing ways without worry. Not having a reservation means I can go as few or as many miles as I want before stopping for the day.

There have been times when I’ve traveled as few as 15 miles before seeing an inviting place to stay and stopped. There have also been times when I’ve driven 400 miles because nothing captured my fancy – or there was nothing. I really hate the latter situation, but it’s happened to me both in Texas and New Mexico, where there are a lot of wide-open spaces with nothing appealing in between.

And Gypsy Lee, left, has a place to park with a view of the lake. — Photo by Pat Bean

What I want in a nightly roosting place is a scenic landscape, a hiking trail and internet access. I know I’ll find the first two at a state or national park, which are my favorite roosts, but the latter is iffy, especially if the campground is much distance from a populated area.

But that’s changed a lot during the eight years since I traded my Ogden, Utah, home for Gypsy Lee. I started my travels using my phone as the modem for internet connection, and often had to drive into town to make a connection. Today, I have my own Verizon hot spot and the times when I have to say “I can’t hear you” are getting fewer and fewer.

And the flowers were a bonus — Photo by Pat Bean

Since it was a weekday, I hadn’t called ahead for campground reservations the day I visited the Grand Canyon on my way to Zion National Park. Nor did I check my Trailer Life Directory for potential places to stay. I knew Lake Powell’s Wahweap Campground lay directly in path. It was the place I stayed my very first night on the road in Gypsy Lee. It had it all.

Bean’s Pat: 10,000 Birds http://tinyurl.com/6ogapq3Go birding in Namibia.  

*This pat-on-the-back recognition is merely this wandering/wondering old broad’s way of bringing attention to a blog I enjoyed – and thought perhaps my readers might, too. June 12, patbean.wordpress.com

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The Grand Canyon: Mother Nature’s Canvas

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Art, Favorite Places, Journeys, Nature, Travel, Writing, tagged , , , , on June 11, 2012| Leave a Comment »

 “Man’s heart away from nature becomes hard.” – Standing Bear

One Last Vista for the Road

The Grand Canyon vista from Desert View — Photo by Pat Bean

The distance between the Grand Canyon’s south entrance, where I entered the park, and its east entrance, where I exited, is only about 30 miles. It took me about five hours to make the journey.

It’s so easy to drink in the Grand Canyon’s vista that sometimes we forget to look at the smaller parts that make up the whole. I try not to forget. — Photo by Pat Bean

Five hours of magic when I left all the worries of the world behind and simply let myself enjoy the wonders of nature’s artistic hand. What a grand canvas she has created.

I don’t know how people exist in today’s chaotic world without visiting Mother Nature’s museums often.

It seems, however, that I’m merely echoing the thoughts of another writer who felt the same way during an era that to me seems far less hectic than today’s world.

Wrote Hamlin Garland in 1899: “I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets. It has given me blessed release from care and worry and the troubled thinking of our modern day. It has been a return to the primitive and the peaceful. Whenever the pressure of our complex city life thins my blood and benumbs my brain, I seek relief in the trail; and when I hear the coyote wailing to the yellow dawn, my cares fall from me – I am happy.”

Bean’s Pat: Kristen Lamb’s Blog http://tinyurl.com/cvto554 How to become a stronger writer. Good advice for serious writers. 

*This pat-on-the-back recognition is merely this wandering/wondering old broad’s way of bringing attention to a blog I enjoyed – and thought perhaps my readers might, too. June 11, patbean.wordpress.com

 

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Grand Canyon: Desert View Watchtower

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Favorite Places, Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on June 9, 2012| 7 Comments »

 “The lack of power to take joy in outdoor nature is as real a misfortune as the lack of power to take joy in books.” Theodore Roosevelt

Desert View Watchtower — Photo by Pat Bean

360 Degrees of Awesome

Mary Coulter’s Desert View Watchtower that overlooks the Grand Canyon near the east entrance to the national park looks older than it is.

It was built in 1932 to resemble an ancient Pueblo Indians’ watchtower, but on a larger scale.

I think it fits into the landscape well, as do Coulter’s other Grand Canyon buildings that include the Phantom Ranch buildings on the canyon floor and Hermit’s Rest, a rustic lookout structure at the western edge of the Rim Trail.

Born in 1869, Coulter was a rare female architect for her time. The four buildings she designed for the Grand Canyon now all have National Historic Landmark designations.

A climb up the 85 stair steps is worth the effort just for the view. — Photo by Pat Bean

I braved the jam of people in the tower’s ground-floor gift shop to climb the 85 steps that narrowly wind to the stop of the tower. My reward was a 360-degree, panoramic view of the canyon, and the surrounding high desert.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

Bean’s Pat: Comfort Me With Ice Cream http://tinyurl.com/7plaftb Although circumstances may be different, I can relate, although for me it’s Ben and Jerry’s (Anywhere), Farr’s (Utah), or Blue Bell (Texas) that provides the comfort. 

*This pat-on-the-back recognition is merely this wandering/wondering old broad’s way of bringing attention to a blog I enjoyed – and thought perhaps my readers might, too. June 9, patbean.wordpress.com

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Weekly Photo Challenge

Posted in Weekly Photo Challenge, tagged , , , on June 9, 2012| 6 Comments »

“I talk to him when I’m lonsome like; and I’m sure he understands. When he looks at me most attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he  rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothers, but never a friend like that.” — W. Dayton Wedgefarth.

Friends

My grandson, David, and two of his best friends. Scout and Levi. I didn’t take this picture, but it’s one of my favorites. I think my son, D.C. took it.

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The Grand Canyon: A River Runs Through It

Posted in Birds, Favorite Places, Journeys, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 7, 2012| 17 Comments »

 “What makes a river so restful to people is that it doesn’t have any doubt – it is sure where it is going, and it doesn’t want to go anywhere else.” – Hal Boyle

A mile below me flowed the Colorado River — and in it flowed a treasure chest of my memories. — Photo by Pat Bean

Memories of the Canyon Floor

If I could see the rapid from a mile away, it had to be one of the big ones. I wondered which? — Photo by Pat Bean

While there’s no bad view of the Grand Canyon, I must admit that my heart beat a little faster whenever the viewpoint allowed me a peak at the Colorado River a mile below.

I rafted that same river twice, once in 1991 when I paddled my way through it in a small six-man raft, and once in 1999, when I was oared through it in a larger raft by someone else’s hand.

In all, I’ve spent a total of 32 days at the canyon’s bottom. The first trip ranks No. 1 of all my adventures, including an African Safari (No. 2) and jumping out of an airplane (No. 3). Yes, I know, I’m an adrenalin junkie, or at least I was.

Ravens haunted every overlook where I stopped to view the canyon this day, just as they had haunted every camp site on the river below. This bold one that didn’t move off at my approach reminded me of the one that had stolen my tube of toothpaste on one of my Colorado River rafting trips through the Grand Canyon. — Photo by Pat Bean

I’m just as happy these days going for a quiet canoe ride on a gentle river – or doing as I was this day, stopping at every overlook along the Grand Canyon’s Desert View Drive.

Each time my stop included a view of the river, memories of the time I spent on it flooded out of my memory bank to be relived.

Once again I was holding onto the paddle boat from the water side in terror after Granite Rapid claimed me for its own. Or I was lying on my back on a beach, staring up at a slim sliver of sky watching the stars drift past.

I remembered awakening to the song of a canyon wren, and drinking in the peace of the silence that always marked the first half hour of our daily time on the river.  I emerged at the end of both 16-day trips a different person than the one who began it. More peaceful, more knowing who I was, more understanding what is important in life.

Today, that was simply spending time with the south rim of the Grand Canyon.

Bean’s Pat: http://thismansjourney.net/ Rhythm of the Waves. I love Galveston, and wave watching.

 *This pat-on-the-back recognition is merely this wandering/wondering old broad’s way of bringing attention to a blog I enjoyed – and thought perhaps my readers might, too. June 7, patbean.wordpress.com

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