Escaping the Stratosphere

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

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

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.

Canyoneering with Lanie

This is a technique we learned called “stemming”.

Yesterday (Wednesday) we went canyoneering.  First they asked us if we had ever rappelled before. I had, once, but that didn’t really count because they were kind of lowering me down. I was 7.

This is a technique called “sliding”.

They said that we were going to practice. We went up 60 steps ( or 61, I can never get it right) and came to the highest point of the barn above the climbing wall.

Our guide’s name was Shelby. Shelby told us how to rappel. First you clip on a special harness that is also used for the zipline. Then your harness gets clipped onto a rope and the guide holds the other end of the rope so you’re secure. Then if you’re a righty you put your left hand on the loop on your harness and your right hand holds the rope behind your back. That hand controls how fast you rappel.

 

Parental addendum:

We Pavliks generally consider ourselves to be punctual and considerate guests.  However, upon arriving at the Zion Ponderosa Lodge, we found that they did not have a record of our canyoneering tour reservation, which we’d already booked and bought $600 worth of “recreation vouchers” to pay for.  Then they tried to charge us quite a bit more than that, since the deal we originally booked under was apparently no longer valid (and no one seemed to remember what it was).  Then they told us the minimum age was twelve, although in our earlier conversation they said our nine-year-old would be fine as long as she was an adventurous sort.  So we made a bit of a nuisance of ourselves, with the front desk and the recreation center and eventually the general manager.  Finally we got it all straightened out Tuesday night, and set our alarms to have breakfast right at 7:30 so as to be ready to leave for the tour at eight.

Walking through the door at 8 o’clock sharp, pleased with ourselves for getting everyone up and ready in time, we were met with consternation by the staff — who informed us that it was in fact 9 a.m.  Which meant that for the past two days we’d been in the wrong time zone — betrayed by all our various devices, which still indicated Pacific time.  Which also meant that we’d arrived at the lodge restaurant just before it closed (so that was why they seemed to be rushing us!).  And that we’d been hanging out in the hot tub after the 10 p.m. closing time (so that was why the guy told us he was shutting down the pool when (we thought) it was only 9:30!)  So it’s possible that the Pavliks are not the most popular people at the Zion Ponderosa.

Fortunately,we were the only people on our tour, and the kind people at the recreation center scrambled around to accommodate us.  Poor Shelby hadn’t even expected to be guiding that day.  Between that and the fact that she had to spend much of the tour listening to Nadia and Lanie bicker about who was going to go first, we felt compelled to empty our wallets for a very generous tip.

And it was all worth it — the tour was amazing.  So you should all come do it!  But maybe don’t mention we sent you.

Back to earth

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.

Zoe tries to kill me

We have discovered that it’s a lot easier to get everyone moving in the morning when the lodge offers an extensive breakfast buffet. Between that and the sun shining in through the windows of our east-facing cabin, we got off to a pretty early start. (Spoiler alert: it was not as early as we thought. Details in a future entry.)

So many rocks to climb.

After fortifying ourselves with enormous breakfasts, we headed back into Zion. It was just as amazing as we’d heard. Every bend in the road reveals a new breathtaking vista, so after a while you just get saturated with the beauty.  Fortunately there’s a park shuttle, which goes to nine popular hiking spots, so we could look out the windows with abandon.

 

The vast majority of this hike had no guardrail.

These switchbacks are called “Walter’s Wiggles”.

Our first destination was Angels Landing, because Zoe apparently has a death wish and wants to take her parents out with her.  Only the last part of Angels Landing is truly terrifying, so the whole group of us headed off to hike the first two miles. It climbed steeply up to the top of the canyon through a series of switchbacks and awe-inspiring views. Lucky for us it’s only in the high fifties here, so we weren’t sweating too much (except for Bob and Nadia, who were sweating with nervousness over the sheer drop that we had on one side of us).

The final mile of the trail is along a knife-edge ledge, with steep ascents and descents and a chain drilled into the rock to hold onto in most areas. Bob was bravely planning to accompany Zoe, but was clearly suffering after the first few

Proof that Bob gave it a try

feet, so I offered to take over.

 

The most frustrating thing about the trail was that you’d be climbing up to the top of a hill, thinking you were done — only to see further undulations stretching out ahead. My strategy was to maintain a death grip on the chain and stare at my feet. This worked reasonably well except when there were people coming from the opposite direction who were trying to follow the same strategy.

Eventually we labored to the top, at the end of the ledge, with spectacular views of the canyon stretching on all sides, and the road and river tiny ribbons far, far below.  We stood a few seconds, breathing in the thrill of victory.

That knife edge ahead of Zoe is the trail we’re following.

I was not looking forward to the descent, but was feeling pretty good about having made it.

Then it started to hail.

Seriously.  The skies darkened, and fearing rain, I told Zoe we should start down right away.  The wind picked up.  Then flurries of white specs appeared in the air.  I think I said something like, “You have GOT to be kidding me,” maybe with a few expletives thrown in.  And we were still passing people going UP.  Call me crazy, but when ice starts to fall from the sky I think it’s time to call an about-face.

Luckily, the weather here is even more changeable as it is in New England, and it wasn’t too long before the storm passed and the sun was shining again.  We made it back to the regular trail without incident. Bob, Nadia, and Lanie had been waiting for us there, but gave up and headed down once the hail began.

On the plus side, the trail down seemed like nothing after that.  Zoe and I walked along side by side, carefree and nonchalant.  (In contrast, Bob told me he’d been nervous enough on the descent that he made the other two keep one hand on the canyon wall the whole time.)

And this was just the morning!  Tales and photos of our afternoon to come in a future installment.

Two from the bucket list

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

We survive Sin City with our virtue intact

We tend to find, on vacations, that everyone in the family has somewhat different priorities on where we should spend our time.  Fortunately, Las Vegas caters to all tastes.

Of all of us today, Zoe had the worst luck.  Her main focus was going on thrill rides.  We’d told her about the New York New York roller coaster and the rides on top of the Stratosphere (which Bob refused to go within a quarter-mile of when we were here long ago).  Alas, we kept an eye out all day and did not see any coaster running at NY NY.  Despite walking our feet off all day, we didn’t quite make it all the way up to the Stratosphere way in the north of the strip.  But Zoe is patient and we have promised to return next Saturday, before we fly out.  And luckily, she also likes dolphins, which we saw in large numbers at Siegfried & Roy’s Secret Garden behind the Mirage.

Ceiling at the Forum Shops

Nadia had much better luck, given that her primary interests were Starbucks and gelato.  There is a Starbucks approximately every quarter-mile here (that probably isn’t even an exaggeration), and all of them have long lines.  She was also a big fan of the Forum Shops mall.  And although our main purpose going in was visiting a Starbucks for Nadia, we all thought the mall was pretty cool.  It had extremely elaborate “Italian” architecture, and a cloud-painted ceiling with lighting made to look like you’re strolling down a street in Rome at dusk.  Plus, curved escalators!  (There are a LOT of escalators here too.)

Sunset in Little Italy? No, just the Forum Shops at 10am.

Lanie was content just to take pictures of everything we saw.  In the elaborate and beautiful conservatory within the Bellagio, I had to stop her from individually photographing each flower.  She was also thrilled that we got back to our condo just in time to take a quick dip before the 9:30pm closing time at the pool.

Gelato!

 

Beyond that, there were several attractions that all of us enjoyed.  When paying the (rather exorbitant) entrance fee to the Secret Garden, we discovered we could buy a three-attraction pass for $57 — a tempting deal since individual attractions mostly cost around $30.  So we sprung for the pass and elected to try the “CSI” attraction where you study forensic clues and try to solve a crime.  A good time was had by all and we figured out the solution even before the clues made it totally obvious.

The four-storey M&M store also provided a fun diversion.  At the picture below, you can see Nadia and Lanie struggling to figure out which of the countless flavors and colors to choose.  We ended up sampling Pecan Pie, Holiday Mint, Vanilla Cupcake, Cherry, and Pretzel, among others.

Living painting at the Bellagio

We caught the fountain show at the Bellagio, and strolled through a simulated St. Mark’s Square and Doge’s Palace at the Venetian (where we recognized some details from our trip to Real Venice a few year’s back).  We saw real flamingoes, and a black swan, at the Flamingo.  When no one could agree on what they wanted for dinner, we found The Yard House, which served Mexican, pizza, burgers, sandwiches, AND pasta.  The girls bought post-dinner gelato and ice cream, even though we were all stuffed — which meant Bob and I got plenty of leftovers.

But the definite highlight of the day was at the end — the Cirque du Soleil Mystere show.  A kind usher upgraded our high-up seats to 8th row,
where performers soared over our heads and ran through the aisle behind and next to us.  (Bob got to reveal one of his special talents before the show, when one of the performers was throwing popcorn for guests to catch in their mouths and he was the only one to manage it on the first try.)  The show was amazing and also very funny, and we all highly recommend it.  

 

Let the good times roll

The blog is back to tell you that at least some of what happens in Vegas will be shared on the internet.

For instance, after a pleasantly uneventful flight (thanks, Spirit Air!) we saw lots of slot machines in the airport.  We also kind of got lost on the way to our condo.  (The streets of Sin City apparently have been altered slightly since our GPS was programmed, circa 2008.)

This morning we found that our condo has lovely roses  and even a mango tree.  There are a few pools, too, but we might not be able to experience them because there’s so much to do in the one day we have on the Strip.  
The culminating event will be an evening performance of Mystere, byt Cirque de Soleil  (http://www.treasureisland.com/shows/2/mystere-by-cirque-du-soleil?.   Before then, it’s a day of adventure, including the girls’ first credit cards, by which we will strive to keep track of what they spend while we’re here.

This is what democracy looks like

Sometimes democracy looks like a long line of people waiting for an overflowing porta-potty.

When we went to vote on November 8 (yes, Mr. President, we did in fact vote), my husband and I dragged our daughters out of bed and to the polls with us. We even pulled them into the voting booth. We told them they were witnessing history as we filled in the oval for our first female president.

Like much of the country, we were stunned and crushed as the results rolled in. Not because a woman lost. But because the man who won was an openly racist, sexist bully. A man whose main goal in life, besides enriching himself, was seemingly to find people who had so very little, and convince them that their enemy was others who had even less. A man whose go-to response for any provocation, however, slight, was to behave in a way that most of us wouldn’t have tolerated in our toddlers. The people telling us to give him a chance had missed the point. Regardless of his future actions, the fact that a person could be elected in spite of this behavior — or, worse yet, because of it — made us realize we didn’t live in the kind of world that we’d thought we had.

Ready for the road

So we decided to march, and witness a different kind of history. To show the world, and ourselves, and our children, that we are not alone, but part of an army.

It wasn’t the easiest trip. We drove late into the night through remote parts of Pennsylvania (having chosen an alternate longer route to avoid traffic in the major cities on the coast). It was raining and foggy, and everything was complicated by trying to drive two minivans in caravan. After arrival, Wendy and I had to go out again to attempt to secure Metro cards. We are two of the most directionally-challenged people on the planet, and Wendy’s cell phone that provided navigation was about to die, and the first station we went to had no clear place to park and then turned out to be closed. By the time we got back (victorious!) it was near to 1am.

Tyra and Riley even managed to bring posters on the bus ride!

We shouldn’t complain, though, because our friend Tyra and her daughter Riley had to take a 12-hour bus ride up from Georgia. The bus left an hour and a half late, and then they had to catch the Metro from DC to Bethesda, and then they WALKED a mile and a half, at midnight, carrying all their stuff, to the house.

But these are not the things we’ll remember. By now just about everyone has heard what the march was like — the crowds, the love and solidarity, the energy and inspiring speeches and funny signs. So here are a few other things that will stay with me.

It’s the bond with my long-time mom friends — Wendy, Judy, Tyra, and Susan. We realized that we’d all met in a class about sustainable parenting back when our kids were babies and toddlers. How great it is that we’re all still working together for the same cause, more than 10 years later, and that some of those same kids are now engaged young adults who are marching by our sides.

And those same kids, who were up past midnight, and smiling and ready to go by 7am. They stood in crowds and cold through several hours of speeches, with nothing but granola bars to sustain them, all without a word of complaint.

It’s Wendy’s eighteen-year-old son Sam, who voted for the first time this year — and chose to give up his weekend to join a group of ten women and girls, marching through DC in his pink hat and being helpful to everyone. And his friend Haley, who jumped in a van with a bunch of people she’d never met because she wanted so much to make her voice heard.

It’s those who made the trip possible even though they didn’t attend themselves. My generous friend Kathleen and her family, who opened their lovely home to a bunch of people who were mostly strangers. Our friend Heather, who made us hats. Our husbands, who held down the fort at home and welcomed us warmly on our return.

It’s the woman working in the Grosvenor metro station the night before the march. She’d probably had a very long day, dealing with scores of out-of-towners who didn’t know what they were doing. She can’t have been too excited to see two people jump out of a car with NH license plates past midnight and run toward the ticket machine, with confused expressions and several half-used Metro cards clutched in our hands. But she greeted us with a smile and walked us through our lengthy transaction with cheerfulness and patience. And then she turned around and did the same thing for the two people who rushed in five minutes after we did.

It’s her co-workers who were on duty the night of the march, greeting train after crowded train with claps and shouts of “thank you!” as throngs of marchers streamed out onto the platform.

It’s the other marchers on that train, which was the most crowded place I’ve ever been in my life. Instead of glaring and grumbling, people chatted and helped each other. When someone left the train, the entire car gave them a big cheer like they were a rock star leaving the stage after a concert.

And the woman restocking the restroom in a highway rest area the day after the march. The whole rest area was overwhelmed with marchers, and probably had been since early that morning. She undoubtedly had had a tough day — but she smiled and chatted and cheered with the long line of women waiting for an open stall.

Even those crowds and long lines, in the streets and in the subway and at the rest stop. Those things meant that the march was a tremendous success, and that was more important than a little delay or discomfort.

And most of all: it’s the fact that it was totally unspoiled by conflict.

Think about that. Over half a million people crammed into a few city blocks. Women and men, eighty-year-olds and college students, rich and poor, black and brown and white, gay and straight, urbanites and farmers — all wedged together in a giant mass of humanity. We were sleep-deprived and travel-weary, hungry and cold, footsore, dehydrated and desperately needing to pee. And yet there was not a single violent incident or arrest.

Instead, there were people looking out for each other. Yelling back to the people behind them to tell them a step was approaching. Climbing a tree so as to direct people around a low fence that was impeding progress to the street. Supporting those who stumbled and helping those who needed a leg up. Swapping stories and smiles and Metro maps. And knowing without a doubt that they will not be fighting alone.