Thursday, July 30, 2020

Road Trip





Enough, already.  The  onslaught of ever-dispiriting news continues unabated, but not here in The Flying Pie, your refuge from the storm.  This is the time of year Bill and Siobhan grab their coats, get their hats and leave their worries on the doorstep, adroitly directing their feet to the sunny side of the street.  This is---ta-da---vacation time!  Say what?

Pie-lovers appreciate, titter over, gasp at and shudder about these far-flung adventures, brought to viewers over a four-week period at vacation’s end.  Future travelers make notes, push pins in maps, cogitate over mileage and speculate as to whether they allow dogs at the Groveland Hotel near Yosemite (they don’t).  Bold explorers contemplate whether they’ll need bat-proof headgear in the Ape caves at Mt. St Helen’s (they won’t).  Scaredycats wonder if they’ll fall off the edge of the Going To The Sun Road at Glacier (could go either way).

But this year….this year….isn’t cooperating, and we don’t like it.  Nobody’s going anywhere.  International travel is verboten as visitors from the United States are persona non grata practically everywhere in the world.  Oh, you can go to the Maldives.  Or Turkey, if you need a bathrobe.  Mexico is open if you want to be kidnapped by fun-loving drug gangs and held for ransom.  Granted, it’s a new and exciting experience but we’ve found we generally prefer to return from vacation reasonably alive.  The Caribbean, of course, is still available since everybody down there is afraid to piss off Jimmy Buffet.  But that’s it.

You’re welcome to travel in the U.S., of course, unless you’re from Florida.  A few states will still take you in but you must first be stripped naked and hosed down for ten minutes by the local fire department, then placed in twinkly Hazmat suits and forced to wear ankle-bracelet locators at all times.  They don’t even want you in North Dakota and they’re desperate.

Siobhan and I like to think we can take a hint.  Besides, those Hazmat suits clash with all her best purses.  So we’re staying home this year, savoring the lovely Sunshine State summer, practicing boiling hot yoga and working on our banana trees.  We feel a little guilty about this, naturally, since many of you depend on us for your annual vacations.  Therefore, we’ve decided to take a virtual three-week trip around some of the more interesting destinations in America’s wild west, places we’ve been to and highly recommend.  We’ll have the usual photos and everything….we just won’t be in most of them.  Are you ready?  Okay…Wagons, HO! 





We’re Off To The Coxville Zoo! (and pretending it’s a normal year)

You may be surprised to learn that 57% of U.S. citizens don’t even know which state the Grand Canyon is IN, let alone have been to it.  And that’s in the Age of Google, champions of instant gratification.  Well, it’s in Arizona, but don’t hold that against it.  Dispatching the political climate, there are many wonderful things in Arizona.  The two best ways of getting there are (1) flying in to Las Vegas, taking in a show (like “O” at the Bellagio), then driving five hours east, perhaps popping in to visit the awesome Hoover Dam on the way, or (2) aviating in to Flagstaff, a mere 90-minute drive from the South Rim.

Some of you might be asking why anyone would consider the first option when the second is so much closer.  That’s because they have never (a) checked the cost and availability of flights to Flagstaff, or (b) compared the fun quotient of the two places.  While your friends are swooning over the majesty of the Cirque du Soleil performers in Vegas, you’ll be enraptured by the Haunted Downtown Segway Tour in “The City in the Pines.”  Hey, some people like a nice ghost hunt.



The Big Ditch

Since we’re starting our Road Trip at the Grand Canyon, there may be some prior decisions to be made.  Way priorIf you want to say in the Canyon, itself, there are limited accommodations.  You’ll have to make reservations as much as a year ahead, and it’s not cheap.  One alternative is the almost-adjacent gateway village, Tusayan.  Reservations must still be made in advance but not as early and hotels can be usually be found for less than $200 a night.  Don’t expect a lot from Tusayan in your downtime.  There are no amusement parks and the Rockettes will not be appearing anytime soon.  There is a nice IMAX theater nearby and the films featuring the Canyon are informative and exciting.  One hour away and much less expensive is the lively town of Williams, where there is a wide choice of hotels and restaurants and the kids can watch staged gunfights in the streets.  The Grand Canyon Railway train leaves Williams each morning and returns at night, but it takes forever.

There are many hiking trails in the Grand Canyon, most prominent of which is the Bright Angel, walking distance from the visitor center.  This is where most hikers or casual observers get their feet wet.  The trail is wider than some of the others, although easily the busiest in the park.  As with virtually all others, the further you go, the less people you run into.  It’s good place for inexperienced hikers to test themselves.

One major consideration at the Big Ditch must be taken into account, even for hikers with a modicum of experience.  Unlike most places, you will be climbing for the last leg of the hike rather than descending and there is no place to hide from the sun.  Exercise care, especially on your first day, and take more water than usual.

It’s also a good idea to start early on summer mornings, perhaps as soon as 7 a.m., depending on how far you want to go.  Showers often roll in from the west as early as 1 p.m.---you can see them coming from far away---and as much as you might want to cool off, you’d rather not get too chilly.  The temperatures often drop into the middle sixties during and after the rain, quite a drastic change.

Any serious hiker should also consider a jaunt down the South Kaibab Trail, which can easily be reached by the free park shuttle.  The South Kaibab is more colorful than the Bright Angel.  It is also narrower and steeper, two of Siobhan’s least favorable qualities.  If you run into her during your trek, you will be staying on the outside of the path.  She doesn’t look dangerous under ordinary circumstances but can quickly turn into a wolverine when someone tries to take her inside passage away.  The bottom of the Canyon is littered with the bodies of those who have tested her mettle.





Mule Train

Perhaps you’ve heard of and been charmed by the notion of the daily mule ride to the bottom of the Grand Canyon led by experienced guides wise to the ways of the trail and, more importantly, the mules.  I know I was, thus made this adventure the first stop on our wild-west honeymoon after Siobhan and I lit the candle in Las Vegas.

Not everyone is allowed to make this trip, which includes a meal and an overnight stay at the mysterious-sounding Phantom Ranch at the bottom of the canyon.  First of all, an applicant must pony up $1000 (for two) a year in advance.  Second, don’t bother if you weigh over 200 pounds.  The equine union, the International Brotherhood of Mules, isn’t letting Jabba the Hutt jump on any of their critters for a 5+ hour trip.  Third, speak English, or even better....Cowboy.  Two sad-eyed German ladies were given their walking papers by Colonel Hardboil, head wrangler of the operation, who insists on a rider’s ability to act quickly on the trail.  And finally, forget it if you’re not in exemplary health, you’ll collapse in the bargain.

Colonel Hardboil doesn’t make a tough proposition any easier by disallowing sissified saddle-softening devices—that’s not “the Cowboy Way.”  You will sit on your hard-as-any-rock saddle all the way, till your butt is battered and bruised from bouncing up and down for five-and-a half ouchy hours (when I returned home, my massage therapist asked me if my wife had been beating me with a stick).

Most important of all, you will NOT get off your mule said Colonel Hardboil.  “I don’t care WHAT happens, you WILL stay on your mule.  The mule may fall to his or her knees.  The mule may stumble and knock a few rocks over the cliff.  The mule may put a foot over the edge of the trail or lay down in a creek, you will NOT jump off that mule.  If your mule jumps off the cliff, you will STAY on that mule because the mule is valuable and has a parachute and last time I looked, you DIDN’T.”  We got the gist of this valuable advice.  The Colonel wanted us to stay on our mules.

We started out in crisp mid-sixties temperatures from the mule corral near the beginning of the Bright Angel Trail at 6:30 a.m.  A few suspect passengers were weighed and passed, if barely.  It was a beautiful gradual descent into the giant maw with an occasional comment from Billy, the folksy trail boss, or Alicia, the crusty cowgirl who had little patience for rulebreakers or whiners and would probably have been happier rassling alligators.  After a couple of hours, we stopped to soak ourselves with water for the sweltering finale ahead.  Alicia told us we couldn’t get wet enough and she was right.  After four hours, I was looking around for the depot where you pick up the Wabash Cannonball for the duration of the trip.  Temperatures were now well over 100, and that might have included mine.  Billy and Alicia, of course, looked like they were riding in air-conditioned limos.

Nearing a suspension bridge on which we eventually crossed the Colorado, we could make out our final destination, the Phantom Ranch.  I hate to be critical, but I don’t believe The Phantom, himself would stay there.  The most invisible thing on the place was the air-conditioning, which couldn’t cope with 104 degrees and only kicked in late at night.  The greeters at the unsaddling area were waiting with cold lemonade, shots of adrenaline and folksy wisdom as we fell off our horses.  I winced in relief as I gently hit the ground, not running.  I looked over at Siobhan, who was tired but in no immediate danger.  “Welcome to the floor of the Grand Canyon,” I chirped.  “Where Romance meets Reality.”  Noone had any trouble sleeping, though nightmares of Hardboil danced in our heads.

The Dining Room at Phantom Ranch.  Free steaks if you make it.


Next Week: Sedona & Beyond


That’s all, folks….

bill.killeen094@gmail.com