Author Archives: Bob

Day of Champions

A second day of skiing can be a tricky thing, We kind of just did the same thing yesterday. We know the mountain a little bit so a lot of the surpises have been revealed. Our legs are very sore.

It’s easy to look like a champ with this backdrop.

Still, if there’s one thing the Winter Olympics have shown us, it’s that in the face of adversity like this, people can dig down deep and show tremendous character simply by sliding around on frozen stuff. Today, almost every one of us did something of championship calibre.

Eliza skied her first black diamond — out of necessity, because the adjacent blue trail was closed — and immediately said she wanted to go back up and ski it again, on purpose this time.

Trisha skied the same green pea trail over and over again, then said she was ready for an easy blue square. She skied it like a pro, then decided she was happy going back to the green pea trail a few more times, si vou plait. She would end the day on one of the trickiest trails any of us has seen here, and she did it without complaint.

Lanie edges Eliza in the Get Ready After Lunch Derby.

Lanie won the “get ready after lunch” derby. She had her ski pants on and was working on her boots before most of us had put our dishes in the dishwasher. (It should be said that all the kids — and adults — were eager to get back to the mountain after lunch today. It was nice to see.)

Not only did Nadia go back out after lunch today, she was filled with energy all day long, encouraging several of us to try a new trail for our last run. It turned out to be a horrible decision that had us skiing down a frozen waterfall several stories high, but she still showed good initiative.

More diamonds than a Liberace concert

Jen looked graceful on all trails, even some really tough ones, and didn’t even seem to lose her poise when the North Side Express lift was getting ready to close and several of the kids hadn’t come out of the Enchanted Forest yet.

Zoe stuck with Eliza and talked her through the steepest part of her first black diamond, snatching a victory from the jaws of defeat.

Emma, who is nursing a knee injury, combined self-control and true Olympic grit. She seemed to know just when to turn in for lunch, so she could make it through the afternoon until last run. She also stuck around at the exit of the Enchanted Forest the last time until all her comrades made it out, which required quite a bit of waiting. The Enchanted Forest is lovely, but also very bumpy.

Chris spoke clear, if urgent, French to some ski patrollers while trying to explain that some of his kids might still be out on a closed trail at the end of the day. Although, he admits he might have said some of his children were under the trail or perhaps that some of his children lived on the trial, Chris eventually got his message across.

Yes, Halifaxians, they serve Keith’s at Mt. Ste. Anne.

I ate three big helpings of leftover burrito bowl for lunch — loads more than anyone else — and I also honored the Province of Nova Scotia by ordering an Alexander Kieth’s once our two-for one beer tickets had run out. (FYI, the two-for-one Tuesday lift ticket special is great; the two-for-one beer special is also great, particularly if you like Corona — that’s the only beer that the special applies to.)

More snow is coming. A lot more tomorrow night. This may have not been our last ski day after all.

Day 3, Where We Finally Get to Ski

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When we left you last, reader, it was snowing. It was lovely to watch from inside our condo and anticipate the impact the flakes would have on the slopes just beyond our vision.

You’ll remember that we’d had a day and a half of not skiing, even though the trails were right there, behind two rows of other condos, looming over us. It was difficult to wait.

Lanie was in the first wave to get to the hill.

Actually, we didn’t all wait. Jen, Chris and I did some cross country skiing yesterday on a neighboring golf course, and after a particularly steep climb and a glide through a sled-dog kennel, we found ourselves on one the the Mt. Ste. Anne downhill trails, and hour after the lifts stopped running. It was cool, but also stressful, because cross country skis and downhill slopes don’t mix well, in my opinion.

Today, though, everything fell into place. We had the right skis on the right hills. The right snow had fallen on the right trails. We finally got to ski.

First gondola trip up

Although some of us were ready well before the 9 am first lift call, we didn’t actually find ourselves on the lovely Mt. Ste. Anne gondolas until 9:10 or so. Much praise for Trisha, who decided to straight to the top and not mess around with the magic carpet and training hill. Our trail map suggested that there are several green pea trails that lead down from the summit, some of them quite long, one of them in the neighborhood of 3 1/2 miles long. (!) Trisha was ready to tackle them.

Trisha and Eliza skied for miles today.

The stars all lined up: we had new snow but no lift lines (not too many New Hampshirites came up here to celebrate school vacation, apparently). We had reasonable temperatures — no one asked for hand or boot warmers. There was a fair amount of sun and good visibiltiy, except for the brief blizzard that caused a little havoc right around lunchtime. We had the crock pot full of Jen’s chicken burrito bowl recipe waiting for us at the end of the day.

Beaupre is steep for a blue square, though it might not look like it here.

We had lots of fun. Most of us made it back out for afternoon runs after lunch and were rewarded with very forgiving snow and very little ice. This was particularly true on the north side of the mountain, the one we didn’t even know existed until we looked closely at the map.

The girls found several glades to explore and displayed enough competence that eventually the adults no longer felt obligated to follow them into the woods.

This crew, and the guy who took the picture, made it until the very end..

Our legs became sore, but we stuck it out to the very end. There couldn’t have been more than a handful of paying customers still on the mountain when we finished up and headed home for burrito bowl.

Tomorrow looks like another good day for skiing. We’re encouraged by the weather forcast and also the two-for-one ticket deal on Tuesdays here. Rumor has it the deal extends to drinks at the bar, as well. This might make for an interesting blog post. Stay tuned.

Day in the City, a Pictoral Display

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Jen and Trish sat down yesterday and made a plan for the week. This is what they drew up for day 1:

We went to the city. Here we are outside the gates, near D’Youville Place. It’s very close to where our apartment was in October.

Then we got croissants. First we picked them out. (Almost everyone got chocolate.)

Then we ate them. We took our time because it was cold outside.

We walked and shopped until we found the Chateau Frontenac.

We stopped into the tourist center to warm up some more. Eliza was the only one who came over to meet Bonhomme. Even she was a little skeptical.

Jen read a pamphlet about parking laws.

Back outside, it was windy on the promenade.

But we fought the gale.

And grabbed some tobaggans.

And took a few bronze medals in the three-man super scream.

Let’s see…We visited the lower city and enjoyed a cider tasting.

Lots of things are made of ice here.

Then it was time for maple taffy.

Fondue next.

It was snowing a lot by the time fondue was done.

But we made it back to the mountain and had a quiet evening, including cider by the fire.

The End
(Until Tomorrow)

Back in the PdQC

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Mont Ste. Anne in the background, as seen this past October.

We are finally back in Quebec.

Last fall Jen and I returned for a weekend after a 20- year absence. It made us want to get right back up here, preferably with a bunch of people.

The timeshare gods provided us with a vacancy here at Mt. Ste. Anne for February break and our friends the Halls were on board to help fill the place.

Pack up the kids. Cue the expeditionary music. Off we went.

Then we hit Franconia Notch. Drizzle before. Drizzle after. But mahem as we passed through the notch. Snow, sleet and wind made passage from Lincoln to Littleton a strenuous and slow slog. After some rest and Thai food in Littleton (a nicer town than I had anticipated, and the Thai restaurant is great), we hit the road again. The Halls did some calculations in their van and called to inform us in our van that, based on the time and our current speed, we wouldn’t be getting into our condo until after 2 am. Ugh.

After breakfast in Barton,: American olympians,Canadian flag.

We secured two cabins in possibly the northernmost cabin outpost currently operating in Northern Vermont. Thanks for your hospitality, Barton, VT, and congratulations to your two winter Olymians. Our ne- return to Quebec would have to wait another half day.

But now here we are in a lovely condo, provided by Grammy and Grampy’s timeshare. Smack-dab in the heart of the Province du Quebec, Canada.

This is what people look like in Canada.

Cookie production line

It’s right at the foot of the mountain. The sun is out. There are beds for everyone. Some of us ventured out to check out the lodge and the trail maps and such. (Others stayed in the condo and hatched a plan to bake cookies.)

The ski conditions were improved by last night’s storm — 6 cm of new snow . What’s more, we’re expecting another dozen or so centimeters (just deal with it, we’re in metric Canada now, buddy) tomorrow afternoon. Based on this intelligence, we’re planning out our week (those of us who are not baking). Other things to consider:

— Tuesday is two-for-one day at the hill. We’ll be skiing that day.

— Quebec City is only 30 minutes away and Jen and I are the only ones out of our whole group of nine who have ever been there. I think we’ll go there tomorrow.

— We have skating and cross country skiing equipment, but people keep skiing past our window and it really makes us want to ski on the mountain.

— We took a look at the map and realized that what we thought was the whole mountain was really ONLY HALF. There’s trails all over the other side of the mountain, too! It might be tough not to ski tomorrow.

On the rink, trying not to get tagged

— The smallish skate rink with the island in the middle is perfect for skate-tag, even though some of us looked up at the night skiing going on right above us and wondered if anyone would really notice us getting on the gondola for one quick run, just ot check it out

I’m sure we’ll get skiing at some point. We’ll let you know what happens as the week reveals itself.

Overdue re-visit

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With a world full of places to explore, it’s been our general policy to steer away from revisiting. There are notable exceptions: Orlando, San Francisco, Boston, New York. They’re all in the archives of this blog more than once.

On the other hand, this list is tiny compared to the list of places we’ve loved but will likely not see again. The cayes of Belize. Quito. Cody Night Rodeo and Custer State Park. Rome, wonderful Rome. We might not even make it back to the St. Louis City Museum.

So, readers might infer that there is something special about Quebec City. This is our third time visiting here, and we’re dedicating to it a milestone anniversary and a lovely long fall weekend.

Infer away. From the cobblestones right to the top of the tallest buildings, you’re surrounded here by rich history and cool modernism. Th restaurant scene (which Jen covered a bit yesterday) and the sounds of the street musicians shout out Quebec’s culture and class. It’s the kind of city where you can find anything you want if you walk around enough (more on this later).

Peak foliage and apple harvesting time make for a nice setting for cider tasting.

In some ways, it feels like a new city to us. Where’s the white winter coat it wears for Carnival (and the day-glow snowmobile suits everyone was wearing 22 years ago)? Even in fall, this city is very clean and well-maintained, and the foliage rivals that which causes tourists from away to flood New England this time of year. It’s crowded with tourists here, too, but things seem bustling and convivial as opposed to oppressive and claustrophobic.

This is the first time we’ve ventured significantly outside the old city. On Saturday we walked down the hill to patronize the wonderful farmers’ market and to (somewhat unsuccessfully) seek out a hip neighborhood called the Saint-Roch district.

Then, on Sunday, we struck out even farther, to the farmlands that seem to surround this city in a way that suburbs and sprawl surround every other city we’ve explored in the past.

Also good for a vineyard visit — note the Chute-Montmorency is that white smudge in the distance toward the top left of the picture. This was during a break in the fog.

Jen orchestrated this trip and she should be congratulated for steering us toward the Isle d’Orleans. This island in the St. Lawrence River is 15 minutes from the walls of the old city, but calm, quiet and pastoral. It’s quiet, but the concentration of agro-tourism outlets is quite rich. To find a setting like this outside their city, a Bostonian might have to drive two hours to get to Vermont or lakes region New Hampshire or far-western Massachusetts.

Once across the bridge and onto the island, we had 40-plus miles of vineyards, cideries, bakeries and farm stands for us to wander through, and some of them were in view of the city! That is to say they would be in view of the city except that for much of the morning we were frustrated by drizzle and fog. During our first vineyard visit, the fog broke briefly and we were able to see first the river, then the mainland, and then we were even able to make out the white smear of the Chute- Montmorency, a waterfall higher than Niagra Falls, way over on the the far bank.

Then the fog came back and rain. Then more rain. Then rain and wind. We kept on driving along. The attractions on the north side of the island were mostly art galleries, we were told, and we were ok passing them by while staying dry in the car.

That’s sunlight peeking our behind me while I wait for the Resto de la Plage to open.

Just before noon, we stopped at almost the halfway point along the route. We waited for a restaurant by the water to open, and, wouldn’t you know it, first the wind went away, then the rain, and by the time we were eating, there was blue sky and sun. It was the nicest weather for the whole trip so far, and it allowed for extensive views east and west along the river. The soup was nice, too.

The sun and clouds battled each other for the rest of the afternoon while we stopped in a bakery, a locally-made vinegar shop, a boutique selling Quebecois-designed clothes that Jen really liked, a dairy that produces a version of the first cheese made in the Americas (we were not around back then to verify its accuracy, but it tasted very good roasted in a pan), a few cideries, a few vineyards, and a microbrewery. The tastings offered at the latter locales were small and Jen and I were sharing them; still, the day started to take on a bacchanal-like feeling. (The last vineyard we went to was even named after Bacchus.) The wines and hard ciders seem of fine quality to us, especially the ice wines and ciders which are produced from fruit harvested after they’ve frozen on their vine or tree.

Here’s where we tried the first cheese made in the new world.

All along the route were farms, some for hay and livestock, and others for the main produce crops on the island: strawberries, apples and grapes. Such is the climate here that all three of those crops were being harvested as we wandered past. (Strawberries in October!)

One other stop of interest was to climb a four-story tower (during one of the day’s sunnier moments) on the northeast corner of the island. Not only could we see well down the St. Lawrence, we could also look across to the north bank and see Mount Saint Anne, the ski resort that we’ll be visiting during February break. This weekend’s itinerary is serving as a reconnaissance mission for February’s family trip.

Mount Saint Anne in the background. See you in February.

With the this reconnoitering goal in mind, we turned ourselves loose on the Old City again this evening in search of the fondue restaurant we visited during our first visit here — or something similar. It seems like the kind of dinner the girls would appreciate. We walked by dozens of other highly promising restaurants to investigate a “fondue” offering at one of the bars in the lower city, only to find the description on the menu drew a picture of something much more like mozzarella sticks than we had in mind.

Mission accomplished! Course three of the fondue trio

So we walked back up the hill (no funicular for us this trip). Before we could decide which of the promising restaurants we might try, guess what we found at the base of the Chateau Frontenac itself? A creperie that featured a three- course fondue meal. Ask here, and ye shall receive.

And if you ask in makeshift French like ours, you’ll likely get answered in cheerful English.

Escaping the Stratosphere

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First, a little history: Almost 20 years ago, Jen and I visited Las Vegas and our hotel room (in what was then the Las Vegas Hilton) looked right out at this Space Needle-like building with an amusement park on the top if it. We could clearly see the roller coaster that went over the side of the platforms and the slingshot ride that went straight up a tower and dropped riders straight back down. We could even hear the screams of terror from people hundreds and hundreds of feet above the desert floor being scared out of their wits.

I was scared out of my wits just thinking about it. I didn’t want to go near that building or even touch its lengthy shadow. I sensed that Jen had other thoughts about it, but realizing whom she had married, she did not pressure me to seek out these elevated thrills. Nevertheless, to make up for anchoring Jen to the ground, I agreed to go on the New York, New York roller coaster and everything seemingly ended happily enough.

That six pack we bought in Bryce helped us celebrate the lax Vegas open container policy. It was a local brew called Evolution Ale.

Back to almost present day. Zoe saw the tall skinny building, part of the Stratosphere Hotel and Casino, last week and is very interested in the elevated thrills. On top of that, the New York, New York roller coaster was not running when got to that part of the strip last Sunday, so she’s thrill-deprived. Then there was my highly-publicized reversed stance on the Angels Landing Trail.

This sets the stage for me to really come through as a father in a way that I rarely ever do. Recall that we still have one activity left in our 3 activity for $57 packages we purchased on our first day here. The first two activities we chose were the dolphin/big cat tour at the Mirage and the CSI Adventure at the MGM. Our last selection (and they give you a whole week to use them up) was the Adventuredome, an indoor amusement park at the Circus, Circus hotel. This was our main family activity today. Jen might suggest that the sojourn she and I took early this morning to see the sun rise over Bryce Canyon was a more pleasant — if extremely cold — experience, but the girls decided to sleep in and miss the subtle shadows emanating from the hoodoos just beyond the clouds of our frozen exhalations.

Not El Loco. This is one of the Adventruredome’s spinny guys that Jen and I passed on.

The Adventuredome is a fine place, especially since we were getting in at a reduced price, and we ended up spending more than five hours there. We walked around, ate a few things*, played some video games*, tiptoed through a laser beam maze*, played laser tag, watched some 3-D movies and rode some rides.

It was this last bit that I think earned me the Parenting Iron Cross. Not only did I ride both roller coasters in thie place, I rode the yellow one — El Loco — three times. That’s right. Me. El Loco. Three Times! This is the roller coaster that has a 90-degree drop and -1.5 g forces, and an inverted drop and a whole slow motion upside down part. It is also the one roller coaster that didn’t make me motion sick — the red Canyon Blaster, with its two loops and double barrel roll made Jen and I both queasy.

Everyone but Zoe passed on this ride.

It should be said that neither of these rides lasted more than 45 seconds and that 90-drop was only a fraction of the 1,000-foot precipice Jen had to navigate in Zion. (Also, Jen eventually agreed to a turn on El Loco just before we left the Adventuredome. This is probably because I had started to make such a big deal about how brave I am.) Plus I refused to go on any of the rides that spun or swung back and forth. Zoe had to go on most of those herself. (Though I did surprise everyone by going on the one that shoots you straight up to the top of the dome and then drops you down — almost like the one on the Stratosphere, in as much as baby aspirin is like morphine.)

The point is that by the time Zoe had gone on all the rides and had been on El Loco four times, her thirst for thrills had been sufficiently quenched. Plus we had run out of time for her to go up on the Stratosphere. I had started to get the impression that Jen was not that interested in going up there. The Stratosphere is in a somewhat rundown section of the Strip and its casino/lobby smelled more like smoke than the other hotels. It does not fill one with confidence vis a vis safely supporting one a thousand feet about the desert floor.

Me caught in the act of being brave

So, practically before Zoe knew what was happening, we were whisking everyone away from the questionable excitement and into a much more palatable experience, dinner at P.F. Chang’s on our way to the airport. Then it was just a matter of a five-hour flight spanning most of a continent and the hours of 11 pm PST to 7 am EST to get us home. Hopefully the Space Needle thing has been put to rest for at least another 20 years.

*All the starred activities cost extra money beyond the entrance fee.

Yes, this is snow

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Frequent readers of this blog might remember our experience in Yellowstone National Park, whereby we were caught off-guard by cold weather. History has repeated itself: Bryce Canyon gave us a chilly reception today.

It actually got colder than this, down to 27-degrees, at one point in our drive along the rim.

Sad to say, in both cases we really have no excuse for suffering. Our guide book told us to bring hats and gloves to Yellowstone, even in August, and we laughed it off. Yesterday the internet forecast temperatures in the 30s today in the canyon. We just couldn’t get our heads around it. It’s almost May. We were sweating in shorts a few days ago in Las Vegas.

Even as we embarked on our main hike today, around 9:30 a.m. Utah time, we told the girls that it would get warmer as the Sun rose. It would get warmer as we got below the rim and out of the wind. It would get warmer as we lost elevation and reached the canyon floor.

Picture would be improved with wool hats an mittens

It did get warmer…somewhat. From 28 degrees in the trail-side parking lot to maybe 31 degrees inside the canyon. There, as we feasted on microwave popcorn Zoe had ferried in her backpack, I started to notice white flecks in the air. Errant cheese powder from the snack? No, it was snow. Because it was still sunny out, my brain stuck to the cheese powder explanation for quite a while. But no, it was snow.

The flurries followed us around the canyon as we hiked among fantastical sandstone formations and ducked through carved-out doorways. At times it reached squall proportions right where we were; at times we could see the squalls darkening the forests of rock spires in distant parts of the canyon. Bryce is well worth the effort to get here, plus the effort to move up and down its switchbacks, and even the effort to ignore the merciless cold.

I, particularly, rate it favorably to Zion for its relative lack of crowds and its relative lack of vertiginous overlooks. Sadly, not everyone in the family would agree with me, solely based on the relative lack of a cafe selling hot chocolate in the lodge.

This is a place Jen and I would like to visit again. We could hike around a lot more in the canyon (the girls have reached the end of their hiking rope and we couldn’t wring many more miles out of them even if it were a sunny 65 degrees outside) and there is a very appealing bike path that calls out for further investigation.

Now the squalls are across the canyon, in the center of the picture.

For now, we’ve retreated to our cabin in the nearby — and rather ironically named — town of Tropic, UT, where the heater is turned on and the wifi is just good enough for us to crank out a couple of blog posts.

Observation Point

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A few words about our accommodations now. The Zion Ponderosa Ranch seems a little remote from the national park, especially compared to the campground behind the visitors center and the lodge right in the heart of the canyon. We drove though the town of Sprinvale on our way here, and it has plenty of hotel rooms right outside the main gate.

Lanie went for the two zip line trips for $12 deal, as well as the 20 minutes of bungee trampolining (also $12).

To get to our ranch we had to drive all the way through the park and into the highlands beyond. It’s situated on a windy plateau that is remote enough for us to spot deer and jack rabbits among the campsites, cabins and covered wagons (like the one we stayed in during out cross country trip!). It offers a fine assortment of activities, right here on the premesis — our cabin’s front porch overlooks the paintball arena — and the hot tubs we visited a few times were quite pleasant.

If it has an unfinished look about it, that might be because of this year’s long winter. Several projects got off to a late start, according to yesterday’s canyoneering guide Shelby, because the snow was so slow to melt.

Lanie’s power breakfast

Until this morning, we’d probably have said the best thing about this place is the restaurant. The dinners were quite good and the buffet breakfast — included with the price of the cabin — really impressed us. Waffle bar, oatmeal bar, breakfast parfaits, eggs and bacon. They were instrumental in getting us through our adventures here so far.

Secret “back door” trailhead

And then we found out a secret. Shelby told us we could access the national park from up here on the plateau. Not just accesss the park, but the Observation Point. Most park visitors have to subject themselves to a steep 7.5-mile hike just to get up to Observation Point. All we had to do was drive two miles of dirt roads and walk a nice, flat three miles through a lovely forest to get there.

We eventually got out of the woods and the views opened up.

So there we were on the East Mesa Trail, bellies full of breakfast, strolling our way to the best view in Zion National Park. It did not disappoint. We were able to look down on all we had taken in two days ago, and amazing view right down the canyon. We saw the lodge, the shuttle road, the Virgin River. We were even able to look DOWN on the Angels Landing that Zoe and Jen struggled so hard to reach.

We did still have to coax the girls along with a bribe of soda after the hike. But I think they thought this walk was worth the effort, too.

Looking down on Angels Landing

Although we checked out of our cabin before embarking on the hike, we returned to the ranch to cash in on the soda bribe, catch up on some blogging (wifi is slow; uploading pictures is time consuming), and get in a little more time on the tennis court.

It was in the 60s there and we were in no big hurry to get to Bryce Canyon, which was reportedly in the 40s and raining. When we eventually did head out, we found out one more benefit of the Zion Ponderosa Ranch: It’s relatively close to Bryce Canyon, only an hour and a half drive.

A few hoodoos in Red Canyon State Park

As we gained altitude, the temerature dropped, but the terrain changed. We even had a chance to stop at Red Canyon State Park to get a preview of the hoodoos we’re going to see at the national park tomorrow.

Back to earth

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I admit, abandoning the Angels Landing expedition was not my proudest moment. As I returned to the sandy, beachy area (not close to any precipices) where we had left Nadia and Lanie, I felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment. We stayed there for quite a while watching the steady stream of people, old ladies and kindergarten-aged kids* among them, streaming out and back from the final peak. We scanned for Jen’s sage green or Zoe’s aqua jackets.

When the wind kicked up and hail started, I felt terrible and very worried. But it also seemed time to get back to the bottom of the mountain.

The girls and I took our time getting back down (part of the trail is etched right into the sheer cliff wall and we weren’t the only ones sticking to the inside track) but we only had to wait 20 minutes or so at the trailhead before Zoe and Jen caught up with us. Such relief — and a happy ending!

Or was it? An ending, I mean. Or course it was happy. It was still only noon or so (according to our watches and phones). There was a whole lot of national park to explore.

On the Zion Lodge front lawn

So, here’s what we did. We hopped on an adjacent path (the Kayenta Trail), which kept very close to the canyon floor, brought us underneath a few waterfalls and deposited us at the Zion Lodge. Here we refilled our water bottles, browsed the gift shop, and ate ice cream under a grand tree in the front yard.

Mostly dry under this waterfall

But it wasn’t over yet. We hopped on the bus and shuttled over to the end of the line to pick up the Riverside Walk trail head. This trail, also low in altitude, followed the Virgin River a mile further into the canyon. We got right up to the beginning of the famous Narrows, the part of the park that our friends Kevin and Cheryl said we HAD to do. This walk in the river snaking through the winding slot canyon is Zion’s most famous feature.

But, snow is melting in the mountains and too much water is making its way through the narrows. The trail probably won’t be open for another month or so. In fact, rumor has it that a woman was reaching in to touch the water and they had to fish her out 150 yards downstream.
Nevertheless, it’s hard to stay disappointed in Zion.

On the Riverside Walk Trail

Lift your eyes in any direction to scan the colors and angles of the canyon walls. Contemplate the natural forces that brought the canyon into existence. It’s enough to occupy any mind out of the doldrums.

Of course, we had a nice dinner for us waiting for us back at the ranch. That was nice to think about, too.

*Jen says she saw the kindergaren-aged girl out on the trail, tethered to the father. This didn’t strike her as an ideal arrangement.

Two from the bucket list

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We try to make every vacation day a special day, and generally we’re pretty successful at that. But today was one that exceeds even our normal standards of special: I think it was the first time ever that we’ve been able to cross two things off the 500 Places to Take Your Kids Before They Grow Up list. Two out of 500: that’s .004 percent of the entire list.

Who would believe that there are two places in the 500 Places list between Las Vegas and Zion Canyon? What’s more, none of the 500 are from Vegas or Zion. I mean, c’mon. Did you see that M&M wall? Seems strange that Mr. Fodor, or whoever wrote that book left that out.

But it does contain a visit to Hoover Dam, quite a wall in its own right, and our first stop today. No, it’s not made of M&Ms, or any other kind of candy. Yes, it does have a pretty good snack bar — the chicken avocado sandwich, today’s special of the day, was particularly impressive. Oh, and we did the Power Plant tour (which contained only one dam joke) and walked across the top of the dam into Arizona. Some people noticed Nadia’s UNH t-shirt and talked to us. They are from Barrington and have a daughter in Zoe’s school.

Terrific, fine. Cross it off the list.

Our next stop was in the Valley of Fire State Park, which seems an interesting inclusion to the 500 Places list, given that none of the nearby national parks are listed. Then again, it only costs $10 to get in and there are lots of cool petroglyphs and even more huge red rock formations all over the place. Not bad for somewhere we never heard of and would have totally driven right past if it weren’t for the book.

The highlight of this visit was spotting the heard of bighorn sheep on a hilltop about 500 yards from us. The petroglyphs were cool, too.

Check another one off the list. Some of these things we had to travel all the way to South America for, and here were two on the way between points A and B.

We eventually did make it to point B after a singularly interesting drive through Zion Canyon National Park. After about 20 switchbacks, the road goes right through a mountain. The tunnel is more than a mile long! The only thing that would make it better is if it were on the list.
Happily, we made it to our new accommodations — the ranch cabin we’ll be occupying for the next three nights — before the resaurant closed.

Approaching the Zion tunnel