#then I got to the grandview point

[yourtipsygrandma]

I saw the Northern Lights and I’m having an extreme emotional reaction excuse me

[gravelish]

Salt Lake City to Tucson

22 September - 13 October 2023

My last post was on September 14th, just before I headed to Salt Lake City to start my long-anticipated ride to Tucson. Since then I’ve had an amazing three-week adventure on the bike, I’ve had numerous enjoyable rides around Seattle, and I’ve spent hours going through the resulting photos and notes. But I’ve also struggled with my motivation and my interest in maintaining this blog. Regardless of what I end up doing with the blog, I thought it would be good to write up a summary of the recent trip. Whether I flesh out individual days of the ride or whether I continue to post about future rides remains unclear.

======

I rode out of Salt Lake City on Friday, September 22nd. I rode into Tucson on Friday, October 13th. Along the way, there were 22 days of amazing landscapes and incredible riding. I traveled around 1150 miles (50+ miles/day, more than 450 of it on gravel roads and dirt tracks. I suspect I walked my bike a total of 4-5 miles on steep or rough segments. There was 83,000’ of climbing, including several sustained climbs of 4-5,000’. Much of the first week was spent climbing to or riding above 10,000’. I camped a little less than half the nights. I never took a full day off, though I considered it in Flagstaff.

Highlights. There were a lot of them. Big Cottonwood Canyon and Guardsman Pass. Skyline Drive on the Wasatch Plateau. The aspens in the valley of Sevenmile Creek. Hell’s Backbone Road. Scenic Route 12 from Boulder to Escalante. Bryce and Red Canyons. Camping at Rock Point on the edge of Marble Canyon. The South Rim of the Grand Canyon. The San Francisco Peaks. The Mogollon Rim and the amazing descent to the Salt River.

The weather was great, except for some rain in southern Utah that required a major detour to avoid muddy roads and added two days to the trip. Temperatures were cold at night, particularly on the Wasatch Plateau, but it was great during the day. Heat was never a problem during the ride itself, though the weekend after I got to Tucson, temperatures rose into the high 90s.

My route evolved over many months of pouring over maps and checking online sources. Some of the territory was familiar to me and that influenced decisions about places I wanted to visit (or felt okay skipping). I wanted to experience as wide a range of landscapes and geologic provinces as I could. I wanted to avoid busy highways, but I also didn’t want a route that was too rough and too remote for my bike or my capabilities (particularly riding solo).

The result was a wonderful mix of roads and trails. Almost 600 miles of my route was on the Western Wildlands Route (courtesy of Bikepacking Roots), a north-south route from Canada to Mexico that parallels, but lies farther west than, the better known Great Divide Mountain Bike Route.

Here’s a list of each day, showing mileages and elevation gain. I may eventually work up descriptions of each day and link them here, but haven’t done so yet. I posted fairly regularly on Instagram (@gravelbeach) and that remains a source of photos and limited narrative.

9-22 Salt Lake City to Brighton 28.4 miles 4122’

9-23 Brighton to Currant Creek Summit 41.8 6634’

9-24 Currant Creek Summit - Scofield 67.6 5012’

9-25 Scofield - Skyline 45.1 5467’

9-26 Skyline - Salina 66.5 3856’

9-27 Salina - Fish Lake 44.2 5748’

9-28 Fish Lake - Posey Lake 54.1 4385’

9-29 Posey Lake - Boulder 23.7 2440’

9-30 Boulder - Cannonville 64.7 4176’

10-1 Cannonville - Hatch 33.1 2342’

10-2 Hatch - Kanab 57.4 2440’

10-3 Kanab - Page 76.8 2449’

10-4 Page - Rock Point 45.4 3348’

10-5 Rock Point - Cameron 65.1 1997’

10-6 Cameron - Grandview 47.6 4519’

10-7 Grandview - Kelly Tank 54.0 2709’

10-8 Kelly Tank - Flagstaff 35.6 2405’

10-9 Flagstaff - Kehl Springs 72.5 3618’

10-10 Kehl Springs - Young 64.9 3459’

10-11 Young - Globe 67.6 6032’

10-12 Globe - Willow Springs 53.7 4172’

10-13 Willow Springs - Tucson 61.0 1696’

LINK to Ride with GPS: Collection of all 22 rides

TOTALS (numbers vary depending on later corrections):

1170.6 miles (53.21 miles/day) (1884 kms)

690 miles paved / 480 milesunpaved

83016’ (3773’/day) (25,303 m)

My bike and my gear worked out well. I rode my Salsa Warbird with a bikepacking setup. I’m on 42mm tires (tubeless). I had no tire problems, despite sharp chunky volcanic rocks and the potential for goathead thorns. My suspension stem and seat post make the rough roads a little less jarring. My only mechanical problem was a missing chain ring bolt that I discovered on the second day and was able to get fixed. I replaced the brake pads in Flagstaff. Shifting worked fine (and continues to work smoothly after shipping the bike home and adding another few hundred miles around here).

My body held together, despite turning 65 on Day 4. I never had any problems with altitude besides the labored breathing you’d expect from 5000’ climbs to 10,000’. My lips were badly chapped and my skin got darker. My hands and seat were sore at times, but that was to be expected and was never an obstacle. My legs were sore when riding, but recovered quickly.

I’d been thinking about this ride ever since I wrapped last year’s trip from Whitefish MT to Salt Lake City. It was an inevitable second chapter to what became an epic ride that stretched from border to border (a one day’s ride from either end). Combined, the two-part adventure covered 2200 miles and 130,000’ climbing over 40 days of riding.

[truckmesideways]

DAY 3 - Nevadadada

Ask and ye shall receive. As soon as I finished up in Grandview, I was given a 700ish mile run to Fernley Nevada. By the time I got my next trailer I only had about 6 hours of driving left to burn, and there was a whole bunch of fun winter storm warnings on my route. By the time I reached the Blue Mountain pass on I-84 I realized it was all overblown, just a nice powdering of the Idaho hills and some slush on the road.

The snow cleared almost as abruptly as it appeared, like escaping the soft edge of a massive photoshop brush point. I saw a lot of dinky little frontier-era towns, they're all over the US, even where I grew up in Washington. But as I got deeper into Nevada the towns slowly became dustier and earthier, caked in orange sand like a well-worn shovel. The paint on the buildings grew warmer to match their surroundings, even the blues were dark and muted.

I wish I could've gotten more pictures but I haven't quite mastered the art of covert road photography yet.

Here's the journey so far, and tomorrow it's looking like another 700 miles or so southwest into luscious ~Arizonia~

Song of the day

[jeanhm]

14 Jan Grand Canyon

Bacon and eggs in bed for our first morning in the cabin but we were still off early to the Grand Canyon some 90 miles north. We had to take a slightly longer route due to the fact that there is a lot of snow but it was an easy drive and easy to get into the national park having pre bought our national parks pass. We parked easily being quite early and started our southern rim walk at Mather Point. I had not expected to be so amazed at the scenery, words do not really provide an adequate explanation so I will post a lot of photos as it really was a different view at every turn.

We followed the southern rim trail to the area called the Village where we got coffee and then took the free shuttle back to the Visitor centre where we had the car. being winter the route out to Hermits rest was closed but we did take the second shuttle to Yaki point and saw both deer and Elk on this route.

Once back in the car and sandwiches eaten we continued by car eastwards along the southern rim stopping at the various additional viewpoints at Grandview Point, Moran Point, Lipan Point and Navajo Point. From this point on we left the national park and continued to follow the little Colorado river towards Cameron.

Then it was back to the cabin to sort a million or so photos!

A truly amazing day and another tick on the bucket list.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“NO TRACE OF ESCAPED TRIO OF CONVICTS,” The Province (Vancouver). January 5, 1932. Page 1 & 5. ---- Bagley, Sorge and Fawcett Have Vanished Completely. ---- STRAY VAGRANTS HAVE HARD TIME --- Many Harassed Following Reports That Wanted Men Located. --- A squad of fifteen police officers from both city and provincial force, shortly after 1 o'clock this time visited the Ehurne and Marpole hotels, Marpole, where rumor had stated that Bagley and his companions were In hiding. 

The officers, under Deputy Chief John Murdock, made a complete search of both hotels but found nothing to justify the rumor. 

The police squad proceeded to Marpole in cars armed with tear bombs and shotguns. 

Streets reading to the buildings were, guarded by armed officers while squads entered the two hotels, half a mile apart, simultaneously. All available plain clothes and uniform officers were pressed Into duty at police headquarters as soon as the fruitless tip was received. ---- POLICE of the lower mainland have drawn a blank in all efforts to trace the movements of William Bagley, 39, notorious safe cracker and holdup man, and his two companions who escaped from Oakalla Prison Farm early Sunday evening. 

Bagley's companions are Frank Sorge, 27, considered a dangerous criminal, and Gordon Fawcett, 26 who was convicted of an attempted bank holdup.

Two other escaped prisoners, Norman Moore, 25, and William Lane, 23, who were captured by B Division police near Little Mountain Park on Monday afternoon, have been returned to their cells at Oakalla. 

Moore and Lane told police officers after their capture that they were not participants In planning the jailbreak, "We did not know that the others were planning to break out," said Lane, who was a trusty employed is a cleaner in a tier cell. "The first I knew of It was when I saw Bagley disappearing through the 14-inch hole they had cut in the wall. Then I decided that we had better go along too." 

Lane revealed that he and Moore waited for twenty minutes to see if an alarm were raised before they followed the others out of the Jail. 

When they got clear, Moore and Lane proceeded to Vancouver by way of Grandview Highway to Broadway and Main street, and then south toward Mountain view Cemetery.

"It's the third time I've tried to break out," Lane said ruefully. "I don't have any luck." He was serving a four-year sentence for breaking and entering and receiving stolen property. 

THREE AVENUES OF ESCAPE CONSIDERED.  The captured men declared that Bagley and his companions, who may have had confederates waiting with coats to hide their prison garb, fled In the stolen auto which was recovered at noon Monday in the 2000 block east Sixty-fifth. The auto was stolen about half a mile from Oakalla jail. 

Three theories are favored by police. The first Is that the men escaped over the U. S. Boundary line on Sunday night, which might have been possible before the alarm reached all border patrols. The second is that they are being sheltered In Vancouver where they have many mentis ana i the third Is that they escaped by boat I to the North Arm of the Fraser River. The block where the stolen auto was located Is only a short distance from the North Arm. 

SEARCH RANGESS FROM COQUITLAM WESTWARD. Vancouver and provincial police answered a score of calls on Monday from persons who reported seeing men who resembled the escaped convicts. They searched the bush near the wireless station at Point Grey following reports that two men had been seen hiding there. 

They also sent officers to Hastings East, where Bagley had been seen stepping off a street car; to Port Coquitlam where a C. P. R. engineer saw the escaped trio walking along the track; and to Port Moody where the three were reported camping In the bush. 

People who know Sorge personally reported seeing him In the 4400 block West Tenth and on Main street near police headquarters. 

Search of Still Creek area In Burnaby, like that of Kitsilano Indian Reserve earlier in the day, netted no results. Reports that three men had occupied an empty house near the Indian Reserve were Investigated but It Is thought they were merely vagrants and not the wanted trio. 

INVESTIGATION IS STILL PROCEEDING. While the search goes on. Assistant Commissioner W. R. Dunwoodv of the provincial police is continuing his investigation into circumstances surrounding the Jailbreak. He expects to conclude his enquiry today. On Monday afternoon he talked with Lane and Moore at city police headquarters before they were returned to Oakalla. 

Officials are much concerned by the fact that the fugitives managed to manipulate the centrally-controlled cell lock system In the tier on the second floor. The locks have been regarded as invulnerable. 

ENCLOSING WALL FOR JAIL SOUGHT Police and prison officials point to the escape as emphasizing the necessity for a surrounding wall for Oakalla buildings, similar to that at the penitentiary in New Westminster. They point out that once a man Is out of the building, his chances for escape are much greater than they would be if a wall surrounded the place. Such protection, it is said, has been sought for a long time, but provincial authorities are not prepared to appropriate funds necessary. 

It is also stated that an Increased to guard about 400 Inmates, there are forty-five men: while in the penitentiary, prison officials say, there is a staff of seventy-five for about an equal number of Inmates. 

SOUP KILLED BAGLEY’S BULLETS BELLINGHAM, Wash., Jan. 8. (AP) - While officers here and along the border line were watching every lane for William Bagley, notorious criminal who escaped from prison at Vancouver, Sunday, Prosecuting Attorney Lawrence Keplinger told for the first time details of Bagley's attempt to shoot his way out of the Whatcom County Jail last May. 

Jailer Bruce Loop owes his life, Keplinger said, to the fact that the gun Bagley used had been smuggled into his cell by a "trusty" in a bowl of soup. The soup "killed" the powder in the bullets. 

Heretofore it was believed that the mechanism of the gun was faulty.

[hawkfurze]

15 things my OCs would say as GFH

Tagged by @jack-morrison @lokidaemonium and @ja-crispea so three tags will make 3 characters! I’ll spice it up and go with some other babs of mine: Marin, Georgie, and Art!

Marin: A Peggie for Hire

1. (When in an outpost) Tread lightly.

2. The Father says you have the biggest role of all of us in the Collapse. Do what needs to be done.

3. (When in Falls End) I used to live here, before I joined Eden’s Gate. I’m glad I don’t anymore.

4. (At John’s Ranch) John Seed will not be happy seeing you here. We should leave.

5. What we are doing is good if it is God’s will, right?

6. I believe I know Joseph well, but sometimes the way he looks at me... never mind, forget I said anything.

7. (At Joseph’s statue) Isn’t it wonderful? He brings me hope.

8. Is this what you really want?

9. (At Jessop Conservatory) Faith is fond of these flowers, but truth be told all they do to me is make me sneeze.

10. (By Bliss flowers) *sniffles* Sorry, I’ll try to be more quiet!

11. The Whitetails are lovely this time of year.

12. (At the Grandview Hotel) You can’t sacrifice anything when you have nothing left to give up. Except for yourself.

13. I can feel something coming...

14. All Joseph wants is what is best for us, his children. I hope someday you will see that too.

15. All I need to do is have faith in the Father and his siblings and they will have faith in me.

Georgie: The Highwaymen Hard Hitter

1. Are we done hanging around? I’m ready to get going.

2. (When in Prosperity or any outposts) Got any beer around here?

3. (At the Island Outpost) *sighs* You know, not the worst place the Twins ever stationed me.

4. (When nearing the Bullet Farm) Right, you can keep heading towards death, I’m going to turn around and go the other way.

5. You rabbits don’t know how to have any fun! Now Mickey and Lou, they know how to throw a party.

6. (Getting hurt in a fight) You’re starting to piss me off...

7. (in New Eden) Why the hell would anyone want to live out here like this? Hugging trees and shit. Get out here and suffer like the rest of us.

8. God, I know one guy named Irwin. Can’t trust shit he says, but the guy somehow always seems to get favors from the Twins. Dick head.

9. (When pointing a gun in her direction) Fuck off with that!

10. Shit around here is weird. I thought I saw a pretty lady in a dress once, I had half the nitwits I was running with laughing at me for weeks.

11. Sometimes other Highwaymen make fun of my height, so I knock them on their ass. They stop talking after that.

12. Stupid, uhg, turkeys.

13. Why the hell are we walking everywhere, don’t you scabs have bikes!?

14. (At the Chop Shop) I don’t know why you guys make such a big deal of getting this place back. The town looked like trash before we arrived.

15. I always get the last laugh.

Art: Hope County’s Unapreciated Artist

1. (At Prosperity) *sighs* You scabs have NO taste in design.

2. Can we stop somewhere, I think I’m out of spray paint.

3. (At Altier Zilon) I know the asshole who owns this place. He’s a mighty prick, but of course he gets a studio.

4. (When in a fight) Ha ha! Yeah, I’m going over here...

5. Hope County is like a big canvas, and I’m going to be the one to make it into a master piece, not an overrated mediocre artist like Zilon.

6. You know, Art’s not my real name, the Twins call me that ‘cause they said it’s all I’m good at. They’re right, of course, but it still hurts.

7. (When near Horatio) *nervous* O-oh, hey. N-nice piggie...

8. (At an outpost) You know, if you wanted to leave me here, I’d be fine with that.

9. Hmm, I think this needs a bit of a touch up...

10. I saw some guys who looked like cavemen coming out of the woods once. What a bunch of nutjobs.

11. Hey, is anyone going to talk about the fact that there used to be a cult here? A cult? Nobody? Am I the only one who cares?

12. (At New Eden) This place could use some work.

13. The Highwaymen are far from perfect, but it beats anything else.

14. You know, I wanted to climb that giant statue we took from the hippies, make a monument for the Twins instead, but none of my ideas are quite there yet.

15. *gives a big yawn* Am I annoying you?

[whitehotharlots]

So we’re just gonna straight up embrace conservatism?

A few months ago I came across the story of a group of young trans activists who wrecked up the opening of a feminist library in British Columbia. To avoid accusations of taking sides or whatever, here’s what the feminists had to say about it, and here’s what the trans activist kids had to say about it. (Direct link: https://www.facebook.com/notes/gag-gays-against-gentrification/response-to-vancouver-womens-library/379623995740078 )

Both sides agreed that the activists physically disrupted the opening of what was purported to be a feminist space, caused several hundred dollars worth of property damage, threatened physical violence against the library’s proprietors, and demanded that a dozen or so books be removed from the shelves.

I decided not to write about this. Firstly, because engaging with trans discourse in any way other than nodding politely guarantees you will be accused of Literal Murder, and I just don’t want to mess with that. More importantly, I felt I couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t amount to a simple, maybe even pedantic observation: namely, it’s kinda weird how we’ve begun to fear subjectively perceived, metaphorical “violence” so intensely that we’re willing to accept literal, physical violence as a response to it. It’s easy to make fun of people who say that using gendered pronouns is a direct cause of murder or whatever, but these people aren’t just obscure cranks anymore--they control the discourse; we’re living in the world they’ve built. 

Here’s a sample of what I tried to write:

Here, in the interest of objectivity, it’s traditional for a writer to point out the tremendous amount of danger faced by those trans people who committed violent acts against the cis feminists and have demanded that the cis feminists radically alter their own space. A writer should re-cite the oft-cited statistic that over twenty trans people were murdered in 2015--and that, no doubt, at least half of them were beaten to death with a copy of Andrea Dworkin’s Pornography. And I don’t mean to be facetious: should a trans activist suggest that these books were being wielded as literal, physical weapons, there might at least be a smidgen of logic behind their demands. But such a connection, however tenuous, is never proffered. We are left instead with a vague implication by association: the trans activists understandably don’t like trans people being murdered and they also don’t like books they assume question the essentialist foundation of their self-understanding, therefore a responsible author will make sure to establish a sense that the former is indeed caused by the latter. Or, if it’s not a case of actual causation--since obviously it’s not and no one would ever be so daft as to suggest that it is--at the very least we should respect the trans activists’ sensitivities toward literature they find upsetting, seeing as they’re acting out of a sense of extreme fear that they at least believe to be justified. Criticizing them at lashing out would be like getting mad a cornered raccoon for showing its teeth.

Just… can you believe this? Honestly? Here, very real violence and property damage is excused simply by putting in the context of the emotional state of those who committed it. Can you imagine any parallel situation taking place in contemporary America? A black man would have a much more solid case in going down to his local police station and wrecking up the place. Police violence against black people is an actual, direct, and literal thing--no flimsy metaphors are required to explain it. If such a thing were to happen, however, the black guy would be killed or imprisoned and his actions would be condemned in all but the most radical of spaces (try to find a mainstream publication that supported Chris Dorner. You can’t). Or more on point: let’s say a group of radical zionists entered a store the specializes in classical music, so at to disrupt a talk about Wagner. They post threats on social media. They wreck merchandise. They tear down posters, shove some elderly classical enthusiasts, cause several hundred dollars worth of damage, and leave a manifesto demanding that certain naughty works be banned. Again: they’d most likely be arrested. They would find no defense within the mainstream press. Their sense of victimhood would certainly not be used as justification for their actions, and no serious person would yield to their demands that certain works of music be banned from stores.

So… yeah. I was having trouble not sounding dismissive. But since then other shit has gone down, and it’s dawned on me that this tendency to prize the metaphorical over the literal isn’t new. It’s very old. It is, simply put, the general grounding of the American conservative worldview. It just happens to be coming from woke people now. 

For an example, take a look at a piece about trans activists vandalizing a rape crisis center with death threats. The vandalism was, of course, denounced on all sides. But check out the phrasing here: 

Trans people face employment and housing barriers, Jenkins said, and the graffiti could be a product of a trans person’s pent up frustration. Vancouver Rape Relief, she said, is a visible organization at which to point a finger.

“A lot of the actions of Vancouver Rape Relief through exclusion of trans women I think are symbolic of society’s disdain for trans people generally,” she said.

“So I can understand that for someone who is having a really hard time generally, this is a symbol of everything that is wrong with the world that is treating me terribly — which is no excuse, but I can see how someone could get to that point.”

Just… fucking seriously? Again, can you imagine this kind of even handedness being afforded to any other marginalized group? The only time you see violence regarded in such an apologetic or celebratory manner is when cops and soldiers do it. 

But, oh, it gets even weirder and stupider:

More graffiti adorns the sidewalks of Commercial Dr., further east from the Vancouver Rape Relief location. In support of trans people, the message “Trans women are women” appeared on sidewalks near Grandview Park earlier this summer.

Another message reads “Lesbians unite,” coupled with a double Venus symbol. Claire Ens, president of the Vancouver Dyke March and Festival Society, said the two Venus symbols are a coded threat to trans people.

“The two Venus symbols, that may seem innocent and to some even a call for lesbian rights and women-power, but in fact it is the opposite,” she said.

Two Venus symbols, side-by-side, is a larger symbol for “biological essentialism,” she said, a belief that peoples’ identities are determined by their genitals or chromosomes, which is inherently discriminatory to trans people who may have genitals that don’t match outdated ideas of what it means to be a man or a woman.

“The Venus symbols are meant as a warning sign to trans women, to state that trans women are not included nor welcomed, and is a perfect example of ... ‘dog whistling’ (because it is) innocent to those who aren’t in the know about it (but) harmful and hateful specifically to trans women,” she said.

Oh... oh dear. 

I’m reminded of the time when I was in 8th grade and my best friend did some weird art project where he put an arrow through a George Jetson doll he won at the carnival and painted the wound with a red marker. His mom found the doll. She spoke with her evangelical busybody cunt friends at work, who informed her that the “ritualistic sacrifice” of stuffed animals was a surefire sign that the boy had been brainwashed by Satanists. She then had him involuntarily committed. A state official determined him to to be depressed but not under any demonic influence, and so he was released under the condition that he start going to cut-rate therapy, where yet another evangelical busybody cunt informed him that the doll was, in fact, a sign that at least one satan lived within him (possibly several) and advised his mother to throw out all of his cds and videogames and keep him under constant watch. Oddly, this did not help with my friends’ depression. Made it a lot worse, in fact. Kicked off about a decade of severe substance abuse. But that’s neither here nor there--the point is, he did something objectively harmless that a bunch of hateful conservatives found offensive, and demonizing and bullying him was a small price to pay to get him to stop doing said harmless-but-offensive things. He might not have meant the plush art project to be a sign of aggression. A dispassionate observer would most likely not regard it as such. But the subjective, spiritual harm suffered by his mother engendered a violent reaction, and the cruelly conservative social structures of our community prized her perceived victimhood over any actual harms, and so they therefore encouraged her to damage the boy so as to make herself feel more safe. Nobody wins. Everyone was worse off. But the woman got some momentary catharsis, and that’s what was important.

Uhh… shit. I was gonna try to connect this to something else, but I think maybe I made my point. If you don’t agree with me yet, you’re never going to. But just remember, pedantic as this argument may be, there’s a reason censorship has historically resided in the conservative purview. There’s also a reason why it used to be considered virtuous, in liberal spaces, to not regard your own tastes and pet peeves as moral issues that warranted vicious remediation. Conservatives are conservatives, regardless of their color of their skin, the people they like to fuck, or whether or not they regard themselves to embody the gender they were asigned at birth. Cruelty is likewise always cruel. A cunt is a cunt. And there’s nothing to be gained by denying these basic truths.

[ehghtyseven]

sooooo this has taken forever to get round to, but I said I would post about my epicurean adventures in pittsburgh so for anyone who still cares...

(fwiw, I’m a vegetarian which definitely influences my choice of places to visit, and quite possibly my opinion on their quality)

going under the cut bc it got a bit long

de luca’s diner (penn ave, strip district)

I went here for brunch and had a veggie breakfast burrito, which was good but not out of this world.  I’m not generally into sweet things for breakfast, but I am into spying on what other people are eating, and everything I saw looked so good that I’d probably go for something non-savoury next time. 

there was a line when I got there, but it moved pretty fast, and any other time I walked past it was pretty short and I’d say it’s worth waiting imo :)

di anoia’s eatery (penn ave, strip district)

brunch again... savoury again... really really tasty again lol.  I had avocado and whipped feta on sourdough (omg so millennial of me) and it had this awesome honey dressing which was just *chef’s kiss*

it was really quiet when I went (around 10:30) and you just order at the counter and seat yourself.  lunch service is the same, though it was already getting busier when I left at 11:30, but if you want to go for dinner you need a reservation as it seems to always be pretty busy (I tried to make a reservation a couple of weeks ahead of time and they were already full).  

FYI, this one is a recommendation of rusty’s :)

sultry @ smallman galley (54 21st street, strip district)

smallman galley is a food hall concept and calls itself a ‘restaurant accelerator’.  basically they have 4 different (small) kitchens and they support chefs just starting out as it’s a platform to trial their restaurant/brand etc. 

I ate at sultry and it was truly delicious (cheesy, creamy, potatoey goodness), and it’s always kind of cool when the chef brings your plate to your table!  

would definitely recommend checking this place out.

altius (1230 grandview avenue)

not for the fainthearted bc it’s pricy but omg both the food and the view were 100% worth it in my opinion.  They have the view out over the point and the whole of downtown pittsburgh, and I was there as the sun was setting and it was amazing watching all the lights gradually come on and seeing how the view changed through the meal.  they won’t guarantee a window table when you book (and you need to book) but I was lucky enough to get one and it was awesome. 

This one was a dumo rec and, unsurprisingly coming from the foodie on the team, it’s a great one... the maple cream cheese dressing on the brussels sprouts side was so good I don’t even know how to explain it omg

these pics are actually last year, bc I was sick on the day I was meant to go this time & had to cancel my reservation :(

milkshake factory (5th avenue, and elsewhere inc. ppg)

I guess you could call this a rec of jake’s since I had the jake shake lol.  not exactly a meal, but tbh it’s so damn filling that it kind of is: that thing is one large cup of chocolatey goodness stuffed with oreos and brownies.  

the chocolate pucks and penguins pops are also tasty btw

prantl’s bakery (market street, but there are others)

me: eh... I don’t really like nuts, shall I bother with this ‘famous’ burnt almond torte thing? prantl’s: ... me: ok, let’s give it a go prantl’s: :) me: omg this thing is heaven I wonder if I can get one in my suitcase to bring home?

seriously.  so worth it.  go get that thing and stuff your face. (whoops - I ate it before I thought to take a picture)

honourable mentions:

bill’s burgers - I hung out here for ages on the day I was leaving bc I had to check out way before my flight, and it’s nothing super special but their veggie burger was really good and the homemade chips were a nice touch.

trader joe’s - because we don’t have it here and I’m sad about that bc I could eat an entire bucket of their everything but the bagel dip

for next time:

pamela’s onion maiden fish nor fowl (tanger’s rec) return visits to altius, smallman galley and dianoia’s (for dinner this time)

should anyone care, these places are also recommended by some of the pens but I won’t go bc they don’t have much/anything for veggies and/or are a pain to get to without a car:

butcher and the rye (rusty again) poulet bleu (horny) meat and potatoes (sully) monterey bay fish grotto (schultzy)

anyway... feel free to hit me up with other suggestions for my next trip if you have ‘em!

[blissfullylostinarabbithole]

At this point, John didn’t know who he wanted to get his hands on more; you, or whoever gave you the polaroid camera you liked using to taunt him.

It started almost instantly. Some VIPs would show up with news of the destruction you caused, and more often than not they would have pictures of his defaced billboards, burning church vehicles, or you posing with Eden’s Gate supplies before stealing them for the resistance.

He thought you had done your worst when you destroyed his sign, and left pictures of you holding Drubman’s launcher and pointing excitedly at the then still intact sign behind you. But you hadn’t. It turned out, you had an even more evil side to you than anyone could have imagined.

His armored convoy had been destroyed, and the Priestess sent to deliver the news held a small stack of photos in her hand.

“Leave them,” he said, dismissing her. 

He took the stack and headed to the office he dedicated solely to your hobby, and scanned every picture, every insult, you gave him before beginning to go through the new stack.

The first picture was enough to send his anger into overdrive.

Your filthy beasts were sleeping on his bed; on his silk sheets! 

The next photos showed Nick using his beard kit, and included ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures as well. 

Adelaide was drinking his wine, which was hidden, and was wearing one of his favorite moisturizing masks. 

You were in his bathtub, playfully blowing bubbles at the camera, at him, while Drubman tried on his clothes in the background.

You knew they wouldn’t fit him!

He had no idea what Charlemagne was doing in his pictures, but he was in his house, touching his things, and that was bad enough.

The archer… he forgot her name… tracked her muddy shoes all over his bear skin rug and plopped them on his coffee table. 

His posters had been dug out of storage and used as target practice. Each of you held up your bullet ridden poster with smiles on your faces. Miss Armstrong’s had shot the most at his forehead.

The next ones were the final kick in the teeth; you and your friends had painted his beloved Affirmation using cheap, red, wall paint. After you ruined her, you wrote ‘Jr. Pack Hunter’ on her sides, and took her for a joyride.

You had taken everything, and tainted it.

He screamed. He was sick and tired of being made to look the fool. The first thing he grabbed was a chair, and he flung it across the room. Then it was a small table, and another chair, and before he knew it, the room was in tatters, photos raining down around him. 

He caught his breath, straightening his hair and vest before leaving the room, finding a few members of the congregation nearby.

“Get the cars ready,” he ordered steadily. “We’re going to pay our dear deputy a visit.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Faith hadn’t heard from Joseph yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She’d gone to see it for herself, the pile of rubble that used to be the Father’s statue; the final destination of her pilgrimage. 

Tears silently fell down her cheeks as she waited for the others to retrieve her bible, trembling with the knowledge that at any moment her radio would come to life with Joseph’s disappointment.

“Sister Faith,” a member of the flock called. “It’s not up there.”

“It has to be,” she insisted, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

The people around her grew uncomfortable, and angry that you’d upset her, and quickly began to reassure her that it must’ve just fallen to the ground in the commotion. They scattered to search the area, calling for more angels to clean up all the debris.

Needing something to do other than wait to hear from Joseph, Faith began to search the area herself. It wasn’t long before someone came to her, holding a toolbox with a note attached.

To: Faith

Love,

‘Rook’ :)

She opened the box, gasping at the contents inside. 

“Nooo!” she wailed, pulling her burned bible from the box and clutching it tight. “Why, Deputy? Why?”

She wiped her eyes, and saw the other contents of the tool box. She placed her bible down and took the pictures, her lip trembling as she looked them over.

Dozens of her bliss fields had been put to flame. One of them showed Hurk squatting, with Sharky creating the illusion that the flames were coming out of his backside. 

In others, you and your friends were tearing the conservatory apart. Though it never felt like much of a home to her, it still hurt. All the bliss barrels that had gone missing, had turned up there. New bliss would be hard to come by now, and their stocks were slowly getting stolen.

Then, you were in a helicopter, the one you’d stolen for Adelaide. You were circling the statue, posing with an armful of remote explosives.

Finally, you had her bible in one hand, and a lighter in the other.

“Faith?”

She shut her eyes and shuddered, bringing the radio to her lips. “Yes, Joseph?”

“What’s happening over there?”

He would’ve sounded calm to anyone, but she knew better. “The deputy’s gotten a little out of hand.” There was silence, and she waited with bated breath.

“Do I need to come down there and help you?”

“No, Joseph. I’ve got it under control.”

“Good. Don’t disappoint me, Sister.”

In that moment, all the previous Faiths flashed in her mind, but she quickly shook them out. No, she would not disappoint Joseph again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jacob had heard of the games you liked playing with his siblings, so when he heard you’d entered his region, he wanted to make sure his soldiers were ready for you. He didn’t think much of you when you showed up to arrest Joseph, but he hadn’t gotten a good look. When he captured you, he still wasn’t all that impressed.

When his hunters returned, he knew they’d have something for him. When he flipped through the pictures, he almost laughed. It was some of the same shit you pulled with John: his wolf beacons destroyed, his posters had been graffitied on, many of them with devil horns or a cliche mustache.

“Childish,” he gruffed, tossing them aside. “If they think they can get to me with this petty shit, the little lamb’s even dumber than I thought.”

However, he’d underestimated you.

When he sent soldiers to stop you from freeing the prisoners at the Grandview, only one returned… holding a single photo.

You were holding a sign that said, ‘I’m just getting started’.

The following morning, there was a commotion in the yard. He walked to the window and shouted down, demanding to know what was going on. Everyone looked around, afraid and unsure, and he was losing his patience. Finally, a brave hunter stepped forward.

“It’s your judge, Sir. It’s gone.”

He didn’t bother getting fully dressed, just threw on a pair of pants and his boots before storming outside. He passed the cages, ignoring everyone as they shrank away from him, only stopping once he reached the cage housing his personal judge. It was empty except for a photo of you feeding it.

He made sure to shorten the gaps in between the loop of ‘Only You’ since.

After that, all your pictures were of you and his judge. It was muzzled at first, but he’d heard there was someone working on reversing some of the effects of the bliss, and figured you must’ve taken it to them. Now it was always cuddled up with you, or attacking and feeding on his own soldiers.

A hunter approached with a parcel in hand, and Jacob smiled as he took it from him.

“I’m gonna go visit Peaches for a bit. Don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.” He took the box and headed outside, tearing it open on the way to his truck. Inside, he chuckled darkly as he placed his own camera on the passenger seat. “You’ve had your fun, pup. Now it’s my turn.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It had been a long time since Joseph knew fear. It made a brief appearance the day he met you, the one who would make or break everything he’d worked for. But he pushed it aside, having faith in you that you’d made the right choice.

But he was wrong.

Perhaps he should’ve kept a closer eye on John, especially after your cleansing incident, but he needed to trust that his brother would get the job done. He wondered again if he should’ve stepped in when you began to toy with him, knowing full well that his brother’s temper would only work against him. John would’ve taken insult, and it might have undermined his authority within the Project, so he did nothing.

He feared, when he received his own set of photos, that you would be so cruel as to display his brother’s corpse for all of Eden’s Gate, for him to see that you were not a force to be reckoned with. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found no such photo.

Perhaps you’d been merciful, and there was still hope you would find your way to him.

When he received the ones from the Henbane, he knew you were reaching the point beyond salvation. He wasn’t angry as he studied your form throwing a grenade at one of the shrines, he was heartbroken. Over your dirtied tank top, you wore an all too familiar blue shirt, and an ostentatious belt on your pants.

Then, he feared you would humiliate Faith even further by stripping her, as there was no trophy for you to take other than her dress. He was again proven wrong when the next set of photos showed you wearing a floral headpiece Faith liked to wear on special occasions.

News of Jacob’s death reached him, and once again his faith was tested. His family was gone, most of his flock had been killed, and your influence only seemed to grow. He feared God had abandoned him.

He was in his chapel, praying for an answer, when he heard a loud thunk on the wall. Joseph walked outside as some of the few remaining members gathered to see what had happened.

“A boat drove by,” one woman explained. “That deputy threw this and then sped off.”

She handed Joseph the large rock with a photo tied to it, and told the others to return to their patrols.

Joseph untied it and flipped the photo over. Now you also wore Jacob’s jacket, tags, and rabbit’s foot. The picture must have just been taken, as it seemed you were on the river not far from the church. You were pointing at it, letting him know he was next. But that wasn’t all. In your other hand, you held a small sign with just one word: Glasses.

You’d already chosen your trophy.

He crumpled the picture in his hand and walked back inside. He prayed, trying desperately to rein in his anger, his wrath. He was glad no one was around to see him crumble. Joseph started to laugh. Softly at first, but it slowly grew as he felt madness begin to take him over. God had answered.

He would offer you one last chance; you, and the rest of your colleagues. 

“My children!” Joseph called as he stepped back outside. “I have a special favor to ask of you.”

The others gathered, eager to hear what the Father planned to do about you. Once they set off to bring in everyone who’d helped you, he left to prepare to give his brother’s eulogy, and a final message to you. 

One way or another, it would end the next time you crossed paths.

Permanent -  @melconnor2007 @ria132love @psychicwitchphilosopher @sireennotsiren @silence–in–the–library@thefridgeismybestie@hymnofthevalkyrie@abbybills22@mvasquez492@ek823@nicky10876@sophiealiice @madeof-ink@dugan365 @magnitude101999 @way-ward-whale @i-am-the-fandom-warrior @seabasstiantrash @eden-the-human-garden @curlyhairedblueeyedangel

[scbincx]

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭  𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚.

[ ESTER EXPOSITO, 22, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ] welcome to the du pont institute for the young & gifted, [ SABINA MARQUEZ ]. you have been accepted as a [ REGULAR ] student from [ SPAIN ], going into your [ SENIOR YEAR ] and majoring in [ INT'L BUSINESS MANAGEMENT ]. your peers at the institute say that you are [ ASTUTE & SELF-ASSURED ], but being [ VEXING & CONNIVING ] may be the reason why the police are asking about you. did you think they wouldn’t find out that you were michael’s [ GIRLFRIEND ]? [ ADMIN J, 23, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER, EST ]

hi friends! jocey here with my first bby, sabina. i’m just gonna get this out of the way right now - apologizing in advance for all that is sabina because she’s truly just the worst™. lol anyways, gimme a like or hmu on discord if you’d like to plot with my little demon child!

name : sabina isabella maria marquez nickname : friends call her sab age : twenty-two sexuality : bisexual hometown : madrid, spain major : int’l business management, minor in entrepreneurship extracurriculars : student council president, business leaders of tmrw, du pont editor, honour society, model UN (spain)

━  the marquez family is known to have a bit of a controversial reputation, mostly surrounding how they made their fortune. what started out as a small delivery company in the canary islands decades ago has now expanded to a global empire of sorts. officially, marquez enterprises is a shipping company that controls the major ports in spain, and owns several businesses throughout europe and latin america.

━  but off the books? well, let’s just say there may be rumours that they’re involved in some shady business and have quite a few shady interesting contacts from all around the world, from politicians to some less than savoury people. regardless, it’s common knowledge that the marquezes are filthy dirty rich, enjoy living extravagantly and lavishly, and are practically seen as spanish royalty in the social scene.

━  as the eldest born to the head of the marquez empire, sabina was always groomed to take over marquez enterprises one day. she has a younger brother, though he shows no interest (or any capabilities, for that matter) in even being a part of it. then there are all of her cousins who want the seat - her seat - at the head of the table for themselves, like her cousin cristiano. well, over her dead body. and even from the grave, she would never let that happen because this was her birthright. while most kids dreamt of flying to the moon or being a princess, sabina always knew she was going to rule the world marquez empire one day.

━  sabina is her parents’ daughter in every way possible. they taught her everything legal and illegal that she needed to know in order to be successful in life. but some things even they couldn’t quite explain themselves. like when three-year-old sabina stole all the crayons in daycare to force other kids to buy them back with their snacks. from a young age, she quickly learned that tricking people into giving her what she wanted out of their own dumb free will was so much more satisfying than stealing it from under their noses. she may be named after a saint, but anyone will tell you she is anything but.

━  a hustler with an alpha bitch mentality, she’s always outsmarting people and outsmarting the system to get things to work in her favour. and when that didn’t work, no one could ever say no to a big fat wad of cash. because sabina marquez never loses. she doesn’t just play the game, she owns it, makes the rules and wins. every. damn. time. sabina strongly believes that playing by the rules was for suckers and if you weren’t the best, then you were nothing at all. and sometimes being the best required playing dirty. if she has to ruin someone else’s life to get her way, then she will gladly pour a jug of gasoline, light a match and enjoy watching it go up in flames. hell, sometimes she’ll do that just for the fun of it anyways. and if that’s what she does for her own enjoyment, then you do not wanna know what she does when she’s pissed off.

━  with that mentality, it’s no surprise that sabina easily became the top student of her program and student council president. though she may have lied and cheated her way to the top on several occasions, there’s no denying that she’s fucking brilliant. yes, she could have done it the right way, but where’s the fun in that? if anything, pulling off all the lying, cheating and scheming proved just how smart she really was. and maybe that’s why michael fell for her. 

━  sabina always thought she was too good for michael. in fact, too good for almost anyone at this school. the whole golden boy, mr. popular act was boring and cliche, and she saw right through it. and yet somehow, almost as if it’d happened overnight, michael had won her over and they were quickly known as du pont’s ‘it’ couple. everyone envied them and wanted to be them. they couldn’t be a more perfect couple and she was the perfect girlfriend - sweet, adoring, supportive. in fact, so perfect that no one ever knew that deep down, sabina had never hated anyone more in her life than michael fucking valmont. and she couldn’t be happier now that he’s dead.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

BEST FRIEND  ━  someone who can put up with sabina’s awfulness, or maybe they’re just as awful as she is. this is probably one of the few people she’s actually relatively nice to (at least, by her standards) and will always have their back. possibly even one of the few people she’ll ever let her guard down for. preferably m/nb tbh bcuz she tends to be a bigger bitch to girls cuz they’re obvs more threatening than dumb boys are lol.  taken by simon bexley, cade harrington, sofia gonzalez-cortes MORAL CONSCIENCE  ━  does sabina even have a moral compass? your guess is as good as mine. this is someone she is more likely to listen to and could try to sway her from doing, y’know, ~*just sabine things*~. kind of the angel on her shoulder? often tries to get her to be nicer and overall be a decent human being.  taken by grant winter-grandview EXES  ━  either she dumped him/her, or she was dumped (in which case, rip my friend). maybe there are lingering feelings. who knows?? could be interesting if they’re very different from sabina and that’s why it didn’t work out despite the chemistry or whatever. RIVALS/ENEMIES  ━  ho’boy. homegirl can piss off a lot of people just for shits and giggles, nor does she care to be likeable and personable, so i’m sure she’s got a hella long list of enemies/people she rubs the wrong way. also people she’s sabotaged and manipulated to get her way? plz.  taken by adelaide montserrat, alice coltell, saylor winter-grandview, daisy kennedy CHILDHOOD FRIEND  ━  self-explan. they’ve known each other since they were kids and their parents are likely friends.  taken by madelyn vasquez UNWANTED CHILD  ━  sabina somehow ended up being this person’s very reluctant mom friend. she hates it, she does not want to deal with them, and yet she’ll still go pick up their drunk ass at 4am. she’s all about tough love, so while she may be super harsh and hard on them, she does it out of love and because she cares. not that she’d ever admit caring.  taken by nicollo fernez, james thompson UNLIKELY/ACCIDENTAL FRIENDS  ━  they shouldn’t get along, but somehow, they just do and their friendship works. not typically someone sabina would see herself being friends with, but somehow an accidental friendship of sorts developed.  taken by aurora van der berg, crimson cooper SECRET FLING  ━  the person sabina cheated on michael with. it’s definitely more than a one-time hook-up, but not quite a relationship yet either. she cares about them a lot more than she’d ever care to admit out loud, but it shows through her actions.  taken by william acher CAT & MOUSE  ━  the more sabina can’t have something, the more she’s driven to go after it, even if it’s just to prove a point. and that point is that she’s always right and she always wins. so she’ll flirt, sweet talk and pull out all the stops just to get them to admit that they’re wrong about her. could also work the other way - the more they want her to cave, the more she’ll push and fight it.  taken by gabriel johnson

okay, that’s all i can think of off the top of my head. some plots i’m open for multiple characters to fill, unless it has been crossed out. and ofc, i’m always open to new ideas too!

[jwood719]

A Ramble Off the Main Course: March 2019.

On a recent (and sadly short) trip to Pittsburgh, I figured since I have a camera, I should avail myself of its use.  On an evening in Carnegie, PA, before attending a performance at off the WALL theatre, I snapped a few shots along Main Street.

Old bank building, now home of the Historical Society of Carnegie.

I mean, I’d been in Carnegie a couple of times, and been through it many times, but - I’d never taken any photos until now.

Crossing Main Street above Chartiers Creek.

Plus, while driving through Pittsburgh, I turned along a street I had walked down a couple of times (that’s a very long story), and had the realization that probably not too many, if any, tourists were likely to view the city from that pavement.  Again, I had a camera, so why not?

Not for tourists view: the Mon Valley from E. Sycamore at Wyoming St., up on the Mount.  This view is only recently available as several residential buildings that once stood on the corner got sold off and torn down.  This view may not last long.

Looking down E. Sycamore from Wyoming St.

East Sycamore takes a winding path down Mt. Washington to Arlington Ave. near Station Square.  At its uphill end, E. Sycamore is near the Mon Incline station, and not far from the grand view of Grandview Ave., but - there’s not much to attract the tourist.  It’s residential, it’s hard to find (there are Belgian blocks - ew!), it doesn’t take you anywhere unless you already know where you’re going.  But I knew where I was going.

Under the P.J. McArdle - right under the McArdle, in fact.

The old street: above the entrance to the Mt. Washington Transit Tunnel (bus and trolley) and Norfolk Southern trackage.  In the distance are the Mon Incline tracks and the ramp to the Wabash Transit Tunnel (automotive).

And, as I got a decent start on the morning, I took a little extra time along the Ohio River heading back to Indiana.  Call it “taking the tourist shots.”

Wheeling, WV, has an old suspension bridge over the Ohio that has, like some other old things, caught my eye for years.  I drove across it way back in 2014, but traffic was a pain, so I didn’t stop that year.  I figured I’d have better luck on a Sunday.

View from Wheeling Wharf.

What I didn’t know was that this particular suspension bridge, originally the Wheeling-Belmont Suspension, dates back to 1849.  There have been repairs in the intervening years, of course (new steel deck, fresh paint where needed, and the like) but it’s essentially the same structure as when designed and built.  Before the Eisenhower System started installing highway bridges for the Interstates, the Wheeling bridge carried, and still does, U.S. 40, the “National Road.”

Yep, even in Wheeling: my fellow Americans.

What I’d never noticed until now: the bridge is higher on the east end: yes, it does rise as it leaves Wheeling Island.

The steel deck: that’s the Ohio River down there!

And shortly after, I was back in the saloon and heading on down the road.  

off the WALL productions (Pittsburgh’s Alternative Theater).

Wheeling Suspension Bridge on wikipedia.

Photos: R. Jake Wood, 2019.

The “companion piece” to this is a “then and now” post on Jake Ponders, concerning (yet another) search for an old point of view taken during the Farm Security Administration photography years.

[illustratedvancouver]

I’ve always wanted to cover the legacy of Fraser Wilson with more depth, and I’ve never been able to crack the case. I recently learned of The Fraser Wilson Collection at heritageburnaby.ca. Fraser Wilson was one of the founding members of the Burnaby Historical Society, and his role establishing the society was covered in the media last fall when the society disbanded:

Created in 1957, the Burnaby Historical Society was the brainchild of Barry Mather, a columnist for the ​Vancouver Sun​ and ​Province​ newspapers. In the summer of '57 he phoned his friend Fraser Wilson, a ​Sun​ cartoonist, to suggest they form a Burnaby historical society.

There’s precious little about Fraser Wilson on the Interwebs, so here’s the best overview we’ve got from the Fraser Wilson chapter in the book Pioneer Tales of Burnaby which can be read online here: 

Although Fraser Wilson was born and raised in the Grandview district of Vancouver and was not to move to Burnaby until he had reached adulthood, his kin was connected to the municipality in what surely must have been its most critical years. The municipality was not even a municipality, in fact, when various relatives of his arrived in 1891 to help build the rail line which was to become the B.C. Electric Railway Co.'s Central Park interurban. It was this interurban, the super-efficient transportation system with the folksy touch, which hastened incorporation of Burnaby as a municipality on Sept. 24, 1892. The original single line, opened in late 1891, was double tracked 20 years later for even greater capacity. The BCER, which inherited the line from the bankrupt Westminster & Vancouver Tramway Co., did indeed encourage and abet the development of the rural municipality by offering so-called settlers' tickets for years. They cost $3.50 for 50 rides and entitled the rider to transfer onto the street car system. The BCER did not feature this special for wholly altruistic reasons, granted, but more to help fill the company coffers. A well-populated municipality was insurance for a healthy bottom line, especially after a second interurban was built along the south side of Burnaby Lake. Greater ridership, in turn, would utilize more electricity produced by the company's new hydro-electric projects at Buntzen Lake and Stave Falls. Fraser Wilson's grand-uncle, Roderick Sample, was the road foreman during construction of the Central Park interurban and was named its first roadmaster in 1897. The BCER later promoted him to track inspector. He cut an impressive figure what with his six-foot-plus height and magnificent white beard. Mr. Sample also built a 15-room boarding house beside the Westminster & Vancouver Tramway Co.'s steam power house and car barn on Griffiths near Kingsway. The company had decided at the last minute to use electricity over horses to mobilize the interurban trams. The boarding house was run single handedly at first by Mr. Sample's wife, Minnie, who soon summoned her widowed sister, Catherine McRae, from Everett, Wash. So Mrs. McRae arrived in Burnaby with her daughter, Alexandra, who was called Allie; she would become Mr. Wilson's mother. The boarding house was the centre of both social and business activity for the Westminster & Vancouver Tramway Co. and its successor, the BCER. Gandy dancers, many of them Chinese, would eat their lunch on the veranda on rainy days. Adney James Wilson, called Ab, started with the BCER as a machinist in 1898. An ingenious man who had a number of inventions to his credit, he became BCER inspector of rolling stock in 1916. He established the company's original medical insurance plan. Ab Wilson married Allie McRae, the newly-weds moving into a house at 1648 Graveley Street in east Vancouver. Here their son, Fraser, was born and raised; his interest in the BCER, avid to this day, was understandably instilled in him at an early age. The Wilson family connection with the BCER goes even further. The grandly named Eli Egriphan Sampson Joseph Jeffrey Maneer, his cousin Eli, was a gifted sign writer who designed the gold leaf script used on all BCER street cars, trams and freight rolling stock. Cousin Eli, who talked with a decided stutter, also applied the numbers and logos by hand. Fraser Wilson and other children in the family delighted in chanting Cousin Eli's name over and over; he can do so without hesitation today. Mr. Wilson learned the skills of sign writing from Cousin Eli and continues in the business as an octogenarian. Some years ago, Mr. Wilson painted a portrait of Robert Burnaby and donated it to Burnaby; it still hangs in a place of honor at Municipal Hall. As a postscript to his story, Mr. Wilson points out that many historians, those from the B.C. Electric Co. included, have misspelled his grand-uncle's name as Semple. He thinks the error can be traced to Roderick Sample's signature in which the 'a' can easily be mistaken for an 'e'.

"I was born in Vancouver in 1905, growing up in the Grandview area right next to Burnaby. But it wasn't until 1944 that I actually moved there. Many members of our family, though, including my father Adney Wilson, were connected in some way with the interurban which ran through Burnaby. Dad became a working machinist for the B.C. Electric Railway in 1898, and was promoted to rolling stock inspector in 1916. He started the Medical Attendance Association, which was like an insurance plan. Father was also an inventor but never marketed his inventions. He did hold the patent, however, for a device which elevated a platform for a truck or wagon, inventing it before the First World War. He also invented a draftsman's rotating table and a roller coaster which used man power rather than machine power. My mother, Alexandra McRae Wilson, was one of the first switchboard operators for the B.C. Telephone Co. Around 1891 when the Central Park interurban was being built, my great-aunt Minnie Sample and grand-uncle Roderick Sample - their name has incorrectly been spelled Semple by some - built a 15-room boarding house beside the B.C. Electric Company's power house and car barn on Griffiths Avenue close to Kingsway. Roderick Sample was the interurban's first roadmaster in 1897, and later became track inspector for the BCER. The boarding house was used by the personnel of the B.C. Electric Railway, and was often the site of various meetings. It lasted only as long as the construction of the Central Park line did, closing in 1902. When the boarding house became too much for Aunt Minnie to handle all by herself, she sent for her widowed sister, Mrs. McRae, who came to Canada from Everett, Wash. with her daughter. The daughter, Alexandra, was to become my mother. Many of the gandy dancers, or railroad construction workers, were Chinese who had worked on the Canadian Pacific Railway. Aunt Minnie had them eat lunch on the veranda of the boarding house when the weather was poor. She and my grandmother would put out towels, soap and bowls of water so the workers could wash up. One particular morning, Grandmother was leaning against the door when the Chinese workers were filing onto the front porch. Just for some conversation, she said to one of them: 'Heap lainy day today, eh, John?' The young man replied: 'Yes, ma'am, it sure is an inclement morning.' Well, she never spoke pidgin English to them again. Out of the 50 or 60 Chinese men, the one she had spoken to had been born in Victoria. His name was Cumyow, and he was working there only so he could earn his tuition fees at Victoria College. He later became a lawyer in Vancouver. I would often visit my dad in the car barns. What could well have become my last visit there was the time I climbed into the cab of an electrical locomotive and touched the controls, causing the engine to move backwards. In a few moments the coupler broke, so through the barn door I went, a motorman for the B.C. Electric Railway for all of two minutes. It was a thrilling moment for me whenever I could ride at the front of a street car with my dad. My parents were quite keen on lacrosse games, so we often rode through Burnaby on our way to a game in New Westminster. We'd sit on benches on a flat car which was pulled by the tram to Queens Park. Sometimes, we'd visit a family by the name of Cleghorn; they lived on Jubilee Avenue in Burnaby, just north of Jubilee Station. At that time, Burnaby was a small group of stores and houses on Kingsway, with another such grouping on East Hastings. The population was perhaps 500 or 600 until the 1920s, concentrated mainly in the corners but not at the centre. Burnaby had a ward system with the administration over in Edmonds. My cousin, who taught me the trade of sign writing, was a very interesting man. Cousin Eli had a decided stutter, and on Sunday afternoons, his visit with us would begin with 'h-h-h-hello' and end with 'g-g-g-got to go'. During his visit, he would light up his pipe and nod his head at the comments made by my father. His name was about the only thing he could say without a stutter or stammer. That was some feat in itself, because his full name was Eli Egriphan Nimrod Sampson Joseph Jeffrey Maneer. Eli himself not only liked telling people what his full name was, but got some pleasure out of us chanting it over and over again. Cousin Eli enjoyed hearing it, and we enjoyed saying it. Eli Maneer was a fine craftsman, and had developed the familiar and distinctive script used in the B.C. Electric insignia. He numbered and applied the BCER signs on all the street cars by hand in gold leaf. The growth of Burnaby, even the relatively little I've seen, has truly been staggering. From such a small farming community to a flourishing residential area - the progress has been magnificent."

If you ever come across more info about Fraser Wilson, or find more original signed artwork by the cartoonist, please let me know!

[arabvllas-blog]

          i don’t actually know how to write intros, i’d rather just kms but let’s give it a try anyway . . . also, disclaimer / i started writing this like three hours ago but right as i was getting to the good stuff my stomach did some freaky weird shit so i had to improvise the rest which is. . . messy, At Best ! but regardless, i hope you don’t judge me too much ? my name is zee, i’m 20 years old and i’m from the gmt timezone. i also use she/her pronouns. under the cut, i’ll be introducing you to ARABELLA HOWARD, who’s small, blonde, and troubled. sounds interesting ? then please give it a like and i’ll hop on your IMs so that we can plot something dramatic and juicy <3

&. 【 is that OLIVIA HOLT ? oh, never mind, it’s just ARABELLA HOWARD. the CIS FEMALE originally from GRANDVIEW. SHE is majoring in FINANCE and is TWENTY years old. i also hear they’re INCISIVE, yet sometimes PITILESS. they apparently told detective’s they were ava’s TUTOR. i have a feeling there’s more to the story than that !

tw: abuse mention b a c k s t o r y : 

arabella elise howard was born to a fairytale — her mother had been a professor with her round glasses hidden by stacks of books, while her father lived life without a worry, flying from country to country and enjoying the best money could buy. it didn’t make sense for their paths to cross, and it didn’t make sense for matthew howard to fall head over heels for the shy yet headstrong theresa wayne, but they did ; he did. and soon enough, he was whispering loving words to a big belly that housed the very product of their love.

but perhaps because it all seemed too good to be true, their happiness was short-lived. on the eve of arabella’s 3rd birthday, matthew’s car skidded along the icy roads, ending the couple’s life. too young to even notice their absence, arabella was handed over to her mother’s sister — she was a toddler reaching aimlessly for the same head of blonde hair that she’d known since birth. except this one wasn’t as kind, and surely not as loving.

leila wayne had loved her little sister, and had taken care of her when their senile parents couldn’t. growing up, there wasn’t one without the other. theresa was leila’s pride, the one wayne that would succeed and remember her big sister on the way up. that was until matthew barged in, corrupting her sibling, feeding her lies and stealing her away across the country. there wasn’t a day that went by that leila was sure theresa would still be alive if not for that man. him and his lies, convincing theresa that leila was too controlling, too obsessed, that she wanted her little sister to stay in the gutter with her.

the more she looked at arabella, and those dark eyes she’d inherited from her father, the more hatred festered in leila’s heart. she was the only living family that could take care of the orphaned howard child; how ironic.

growing up, arabella was almost fooled into thinking her home life was normal. the screaming at every mistake, the poor dinner comprised of day-old takeouts, the wasted mattress on the corner of the room that she curled into, whimpering as the lights went off and leila locked the door for the night. but still, some part of her knew deep down, that she had once known more; known better. and it was those blurry dreams of loving hugs and white-teeth smiles that kept the child, then teenager, alive.  

after here i got sick so bear with me as i try to complete this fajsidas

she was often alone for most part of her teenage years, burying herself in whatever books she got at the school library. because she couldn’t relate to the rest of the peers her age, arabella focused all her attention towards studying and making sure she could one day get as far away from her aunt as possible. she got a competitive streak, often harboring anger and envy towards anyone that got a better grade than her, though it meant she was always pushing herself to do better — but not always better for her, but better than them.

teachers and counselors often considered arabella as a rare gem, supporting her all the way to college applications and assuring her there was no way she wouldn’t get a scholarship with her record. so it was really a slap to the face when everyone started getting acceptance letters but her. until she discovered them ripped apart and half burnt in the trash, courtesy of leila. when confronted, the older woman claimed she was just like her mother. so eager to get away, to act like she was a monster they had to run from. but she refused to let arabella leave, like theresa had. ( i’m sure there would be a way to reverse this but idk enough about american education so let’s just go w it for the sake of the story). it was a tipping point, the last drop of water that would send the vase tipping over. that night, arabella locked her aunt in the same room she had spent her childhood in, lights turned off, the only sound the faint rumble of cars passing by. no matter how much the woman yelled, slammed, begged, she turned her back and packed the little she had been given. two days later, as the cab driver hauled up her luggage in the trunk, arabella unlocked the door to a passed out and starving leila, and left without saying goodbye.

she ended up going to her last choice aka grandview, while living alone in her little shoebox apt that was all hers, with lots of light. and when the opportunity actually came to attend oakridge, arabella was the first to take it. while it wasn’t her dream college, it was still a prestigious one, and since ridding herself of the dead weight in her life, she’d started planning to rise as far as they would let her go. far enough that the whispers in the dark couldn’t get to her.

p e r s o n a l i t y and t i d b i t s : 

very self-centered, only ever concerned about her and what happens to her and will this affect her ? really the last person to go to if you want someone to listen… that one girl that zones out when someone starts monologuing and comes back only when her name is mentioned. has a hard time feeling sympathy, especially if you’re rich.

always overthinks her words and waits 5 seconds before speaking to make sure it’s exactly what she wants to say and if it’s something bitchy then that’s just the way it is. but she’s more reserved than outgoing, so if she does say smth mean you just really asked for it. or it’s finals time. 

driven and dedicated about her academics…. like obviously they all are but she’s a freak about it. i’m talking redbull intoxication feat. one of those pinterest pics of like a bunch of coffee cups just laying around like someone’s got time to spare. if she’s not studying, she’s reading…. likes classics but also occasionally reads NA in the middle of the night because no one will ever know.

is very scared of the dark. can’t sleep without a light on, or two on very hard days. once in highschool some kids decided to prank the teacher and turn off all lights and blinds in the classroom and she had a panic attack that led them all to detention. it was a very rough year, kids are cruel.

tutored ava for a while in english because it meant some cash on the side, but was about to quit before she died simply because ava was getting better grades and that was really a bitch ass of a situation. her first reaction when she heard of her death was that at least she didn’t have to have an awkward conversation with her about it. . . but then she was a shocked and a little sad, i promise. well, i don’t promise promise but. . .

majors in finance, hates it. she was definitely going for a english major but realistically decided it wasn’t worth putting herself in debt for it ( no offense for any english majors. ) doesn’t actually know what she wants to do with her life after she graduates. she only knows how to be a student, not an actual working woman. 

in summary, arabella elise howard is a broke, over-achieving, cold twenty year old who’s only 5′3 and thinks she can still be intimidating.

[fereality-indy]

Wendip Week 2018 Day 6 Moving In Together

Monday June 12th, 2017

Mystery Shack

 “Ok, would you be so kind as to tell me again why I’m covering you at the front counter. I mean why are you sitting out here waiting on Stu?” Gideon asked as he came out to the front porch of the Shack.

 "Well, I’m waiting on a letter from Grandview University. Mom and dad were pushing for me to go to one of their alma maters but that would take me all way across the country. I rally want to stay near home and Grandview has an excellent Cryptography and Mythology departments.“ I say as I continue to watch the drive up to Shack.

“And what about you?” Gideon said as he turned towards Mabel.

 “Nunya,” Mabel said before taking a sip out of her can of Pitt.

 “Oh, come on. You can tell lil ol’ me, for old times sake.” He said as he tried to ply his old charm. The problem is my sister and I are two of the people who have been able to see through his malarkey.

 “You know what, I’ll tell you why I’m out here if you tell us where you disappear to once a month. And don’t give me that ‘exchange’ program excuse.  I don’t know of any exchange programs that last through the summer months.” Mabel shot back, tired of Gideon’s attempts to find out about her business. He had gotten over his crush on her a couple years ago, but he still is nosey about her life.

 “Uhm, well I think I heard a customer. I better get back to the register.” Gideon said as he quickly dodged the issue. One of these days I’m gonna have to look into that, I already would have but Grunkle Ford said to left him have a few secrets.

 Once I was certain that he was gone I turned to my twin and asked, “So what are you actually waiting for?”

 “Pacifica is having some paperwork delivered from her lawyer and I’m one of people she has authorized to be able to accept it for her.  She can’t have her parents know she’s doing this.” Mabel said as she went back to work on the sweater she was knitting. It was a little sweater for Stacey, and she has an applique of a cartoon heart talking on a phone that she is gonna add when she has it done. “Actually between the two of us we have nearly forty-eight percent bought and she has feelers out to get even more. At the next board… oh hey there’s Stu.”

 I hopped up and met Stu as his truck made it into the lot. “How are you doing today, Stu?”

 “Pretty good Dipper,” he said in his low gravelly voice, that and his stout body and it’s not that hard to see the family resemblance to his niece Grenda. Though he is definitely more hirsute than his sister and niece. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a stack of envelopes and handed them to me, “Here you go.”

 I glanced through them quickly and saw that none of them were from Grandview. Disappointed I turn and started to head in when Stu called, “Oh, hey Dipper. I have one more. It was in the large mail pile.”

 He was holding a nine by twelve manila envelope. I rushed back and took ahold it. When I saw it was from Grandview I ripped it open. With a cursory look I saw that it was the acceptance letter I was looking for and  quickly reached up and pulled Stu into a hug.

 “Well I take it that was good news.” Stu remarked as I let him go.

 “Yep, college acceptance letter. Thanks.” I said before I turned and ran around towards the back of the Shack. Wendy was working on replacing the kitchen door from where someone had tied Waddles to the handle this morning. He was okay with it till a gnome ran by him with a bag of puffed cheese curds that Soos had ‘thrown out’. Soos put out a second trash can and started tossing new cans of Wrinkle potato crisps, bags of puffed VegStix, and other non-perishable foods when he learned that some gnomes struggle most of the summer to build up a enough supplies to survive through winter. The old door is now part of the ‘I Survived An Attack By A Wereboar’ display along with a photo-shopped picture of Wendy’s brother Kevin with Waddles head and front hooves.  

 I turned the corner and was struck by the scene before me. She was there in her tank top, with her flannel tied around her waist. She had her hair pulled back in a braid so that it wouldn't get in her face while she worked. Surrounding her was a group of tools she had borrowed from her dad when she heard what was needed. I was once again struck by how lucky I am that she had chose me. Snapping out of it I strode forward,  “Wendy, it’s here. I made it. This fall I’ll be a freshman at Grandview University.”

 “Sweet.” She said as she prepared to drill the hole into the door so that she would be able to put the handle and lock in.  “I knew you could do it, I mean with your grades you could have gotten in anywhere you wanted. Now I know we’ve had this discussion before, but are you sure you didn’t chose Grandview because I’m going there?”

 “Nope, that is just an added benefit. I chose it because it has nationally ranked departments in both cryptography and mythology.” I said as I braced the door as she pressed the hole saw against the frame, “Also since I got several base credits out of the way with my AP classes, there are a few elective courses I want to take that the combination of which is only offered there.”  

 When she was done drilling, she put down the drill and looked at me. “Well now that I’ve got the obligatory ‘Choose Your School For Yourself And Not For Someone Else’ protest out of the way, congratulations.”

 She pulled me to her and pressed her lips to mine. When we came up for air she said, “We should go out to celebrate.”

 “Already ahead of you, there’s a fairly new Vietnamese place in Schaal Lake that a customer told me about. It’s an hour and a half drive to get there but the Banh Mi and the summer rolls are supposed to be worth it. I’ll even drive, cause I know you’ve been working hard today.” I said as she went back to work on the door.

 “Sounds good to me. Pick me up around six, ok.” She said followed by a quick a peck.

 Later That Evening

 After a shave and a shower I got dressed in jeans and grey flannel. I had made most of my preparations weeks ago and only had to call the restaurant earlier when I got home to make sure they would be open when we get to Schaal Lake. I made sure I had everything I needed and headed down to my Fjord Hauler. Even though it is nearly a decade old, it’s a reliable little truck. As I prepared to leave, I shot out a few texts I one to Wendy to let her know I was on the way.

 It didn’t take long at all to get to Wendy’s. She has been staying with her dad since spring session. Dan was having some trouble over the winter season, what with Wendy in college and Marcus getting married  and moved out. Though he dotes on little Colin. If it wasn’t for Mayor Tyler I think Manly Dan would have accidentally destroyed his house by now. He was over nearly every night cooking dinner and teaching the Kevin and Gus how to care for themselves now that Wendy wasn’t there to do things for them. It wouldn’t surprise me if the two of them follow Blubs and Durland’s example soon. They really aren’t hiding it that well.

 When I pulled up Wendy was on the porch waiting on me. Since we were going out to eat she seems to have eschewed her hat and instead still had her hair in the braid from earlier. A fresh emerald flannel and some stone washed denim jeans completed her look. I reached over and opened the door as she walked up. She gave me a kiss as she got in. once she fastened her belt we were off.

 During the trip we listened to some music and talked about some of the customers we had today, the music that was playing, Antonio and Stacey’s antics, and what courses we planned on taking. That last one lead into talking about how the school’s freshman housing regulations didn’t require me to live in a dorm like so many movies make you believe just as we entered Schaal Lake. I turned down a side road that by all appearances lead away from the interstate and into town.

 “I mean really if we wanted to we could just stay in Gravity Falls and drive to classes every day.” Wendy said as we entered  into a residential neighborhood.

 “Lord no, if I wanted to have a two and a half hour commute I’d have stayed in California.” I said as we neared a house with a ‘For Rent’ sign out in front of it.  I stopped in front of it as I continued, “I mean take this house. From here we would have a maybe a half hour to forty-five minute drive to school and still be close enough to the falls that we could be there quickly if there is some sort trouble.”  

“Yeah and it would still far enough that dad couldn’t expect me to drop everything if Tyler couldn’t make it over for the night.” Wendy added as she looked around the neighborhood.

 “Let’s take a look at it.” I say shutting off the truck. Wendy seemed reluctant at first but when I open the door and gently took her hand she came with me. As we passed the sign I pointed out that it said ‘Open House’ and ‘Hal Forrester Reality Inc.’.

 “Maybe we can call for a tour, it says the realtor is based in Gravity Falls. But I can’t say that I recognize the name.” she said as we reached the front of the house.

 Looking around we found all of the windows had their curtains closed. “Alright, I’m gonna look on this side to see if there are any windows where we can peek through the curtains. You check that side.”

 “You sure?” Wendy asked looking a little apprehensive.

  “Ok, who are you what did you do to my Wendy?” I said with a smile so she would know I was kidding.

 “Hey this could be serious, the neighbors could call the police on us and neither of us have a juvenile record to fall back behind.” She said straight-faced before she started cracking up. “You’re right dude. Anyone asks were prospective renters.”

 She gave me a kiss and then headed her way I started towards the other side but once I knew she had turned the corner I rushed out and grabbed the sign. Then back to the front door. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key and let myself in, leaving the door cracked. Taking a quick look around I saw that everything was in order, so I headed to the to dining room for the next phase of my plan.  I flash a thumbs up to the little red light shining from the bookshelf in the room.

 I hear the door creak open with a call of “Dipper? Are you in here? Ok, man this isn’t funny. Wait a minute, what is Mr. Panduck doing here? And that’s one of my axes.”

 Her voice was getting closer and my nerves were beginning to falter. What if she doesn’t like it. Oh man, get it together Pines.

 Wendy then walked into the room, Mr. Panduck in one arm and her ax (not the one in the hall) in her other. And she looked ready for combat. Once she saw me and that I was ok she relaxed. Seeing that I said, “Well Wendy how do you like our little house?”

 That seemed to shock her, “Our… our house? What are you talking about Dipper?”

 “Well, we’ve been talking for a bit about moving in together once school started and on my last trip out to visit you I came across this house for sale and went through the whole spiel we went through outside by myself. When I talked it over with Grunkle Stan we decided to come check it out. After he finagled a better deal he ended up buying the house. And before you start, we are renting it from him. I hope you don’t mind that I took the initiative and found us some where that fit a lot of our requirements.” I said as I started to lose all of the bluster I had built up.    

 “Dip,” Wendy started.

 “Alright I know I should’ve waited. I should’ve asked you first. I shouldn’t gotten your dad to help move stuff out here. He also checked the plumbing and fixtures. But it was mainly so he would know it was a two bedroom and I wouldn’t be putting any type of pressure on you. And now there is pressure. I screwed up. The whole premise here is screwed up. And now I’m rambling. Why am I rambling? Why can’t I stop?” I was saying till Wendy placed a finger on my lips hushing me immediately.

 “It’s ok man, calm down. While, Yes I would have liked to have been in on the decision, you did good here. So take a slow, deep breath.” She said as she helped me calm down. “So dad knew about this huh? I guess that’s why he told me to ‘Don’t worry about being out late’ as I was heading out tonight.”

 She started looking around some, as she continued “You say it has two bedrooms? The living room looked comfortable enough for when we do movie night. The kitchen is a little cozy, but having this pass-through certainly makes up for it. The backyard is big enough that we could host a barbeque if we wanted. So yeah, you did good. But we make the rest of the decisions together, alright?”

 While her back was towards me, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my second surprise of the night. When she turned back towards me I was down on one knee with a ring on a simple plaid cloth in my hand. “Sounds good to me, why don’t we start with: Wendy Blerble Corduroy, will you marry me?”

 She stood there stock still for almost a minute and I began to wonder if I screwed up, before she tackled me with tears in her eyes. “So is this a yes?”

 “Yes, you idiot.” She said before she pulled me into a searing kiss. Breaking it I placed the ring on her finger. As she was getting ready to plant another one on me both her phone and mine went off signaling that we had texts.

 “Ok, I just got three texts. One from Tambry saying ‘Congrats’, another from Lee saying ‘About time’ and finally one from Nate that I ‘Make an honest man out of you’.” Wendy said looking a little perplexed.

 Looking up from mine I read, “And I got ‘Treat her right or else’ from your dad, ‘Mazel Tov’ from Mabel and Pacifica, and the Stans send their love.”  

 Still perplexed she asked, “How did they know?”

 I pointed over towards the red light on the bookcase, “I was streaming. It was the only way to be able to do it with out Mabel being here and making a spectacle of it. Her first suggestion was to have the proposal written out in fireworks.”

 Wendy chuckled at that and then got up. She walked over to the light and pulling the camera up before saying “That’s all folks. Shows over.”  

 Then she followed the cord and turned the computer off when she reached it. She turned back towards me and said, “Now not to complain, but the original reason I thought we were coming out this way was to get some Vietnamese food and I’m hungry.”

 And as if she spoke it into exisistance there was a knock on the front door. As I passed her I said, “That’s another good thing about living here, they deliver.”

[needspacedumphere]

"My mind never shuts up, you know. Always whirling. Always thinking. That's what you like so much, right? Even though I know you get annoyed-" The professor's voice was cut off by Jim's fingers pressing harshly against his lips and then down, pulling him toward. Rick nearly whimpered and flicked his eyes towards where Jim's wrist was pressing against his chin.

"Jim, be nice. We don't want our guest to get scared, so we?" Melinda chided. Sometimes, the professor just needed to be quieted. He needed to have his active mind brought to its limits until he finally shut down and started begging for them. Started being clear again. They had discussed various things before starting this but one thing was a mystery- and they could tell it. When Rick was asked if he was likely to call them any titles he had gone red and actually stuttered. said you wish you could-”

PEG/ORDE/M-D/M-S/CRY/VUL ^^^-----ORIGINAL TEXT-----^^^ "My mind never shuts up, you know. Always whirling. Always thinking. That's what you like so much, right? Even though I know you get annoyed and I’m s-” Rick’s voice was cut off by Jim reaching forward and hooking him in the mouth and dragging him close. The professor whined softly and looked up at the paramedic with slightly lidded eyes and his shoulders curled in a little. Jim roughly stroked across Rick’s cheek with his thumb and the other leaned into it. “‘orry…” “Jim, be nice. Don’t scare him off.” Melinda chided. She had been lounging on the opposite side of Rick and gently stroking down his arm when he had started chattering. She winced a little at the comment as she remembered the context. If she had known his issues ran so deep she wouldn’t have said anything but the fact was, she did. It had meant to be a friendly jab but it had hurt him. He had even told her about how he avoided making personal connections because he was wary of being hurt. “What did we say about negative talk, hmm?” With a soft croon she scratched her fingers through his hair- dry and hard, he hadn't been taking care of it- and across his scalp, drawing a content moan from around the thick fingers in his mouth. His gaze flicked to her and he whined softly. "Good boy. You are doing so good, Professor, so good for us." Melinda murmured. Her black nightgown brushed against the back of his thighs and he relaxed a little more. Jim withdrew his fingers and traced along Rick’s jawline after wiping off his fingers on the sheet with the professor following him. It sometimes came as a shock to them how much Rick just… blended in. To their- her and Jim’s- relationship. It hadn’t been planned or plotted, but it didn’t mean there weren’t signs either. Still, nothing might have come of it if not for what happened. He had been brought in after a particularly difficult ghost ‘case’ and had confided in Melissa. In a way. He had a slight mental breakdown that resulted in them taking him to their home- and not long after, his- in a shock blanket. They hadn’t known exactly what was going on until they found him with a finger between his teeth and rocking slightly back and forth. Both of them had exchanged glances before kneeling down and holding him till he calmed down. --- “I- I felt it- her- inside of me. It wasn’t like when-” Rick’s stuttering increased to the point that he could no longer talk and he buried his face into Melinda’s chest. Jim had narrowed his eyes a little but a slight shake of Melinda’s head quickly had him biting his tongue and placing a hand on Rick’s back. The professor flinched and burrowed deeper into Melinda with a soft whine. “It wasn’t like last time. I saw her. She- she-” It had been a little girl. She had gone missing nearly forty years earlier and no one had ever found out what happened to her. Until now. A body had been found in Grandview. A four foot body of a little girl.... but missing a head. They had pulled her out of a lake and scoured it but they never found her head. Not until Melinda had gotten the little girl to write out the name of her killer. It had been an old man who no one had even considered a suspect back then. It turned out that he had been killing children- mostly girls, but one boy had been killed after trying to protect his sister (“He was three! He was-”). The boy was the one who had led them to her body. The girl had latched onto Payne after he was the first one to touch her skull and practically possessed him. By speaking through him he had seen her final memories. The ones of her murder and the events afterwards. She had been the first one killed. The rest followed over the course of thirty years. Each one she saw, and each one she felt their death resonate through the Layer. Each one added to her energy, and she grew angrier and angrier until she had the energy to possess and share from the simple contact with her skull. He had come with Melinda and Jim after practically begging. Ever since he had seen the ghost on his machines he

had been eager to see one. His eagerness was barely diminished by the fact it was a child. He hadn’t expected it to be so gruesome. There was no way to imagine what had happened to her. Payne had gotten a full view of all the deaths of all the children and felt all the emotions they had. Felt the rage, the fear, the confusion that they had felt. It had overwhelmed him to the point of incoherency.

Her- his (?) head had been ripped off while she was alive by a tractor. It had ripped it clean off. It was an accident at first, but her killer liked it. Liked it so much he would spend the next thirty years killing more. Payne had been forced to go through all of those memories, all of those feelings, all of them compressed to just under 2 minutes. Two minutes of terror, pain, and anger so strong that he had a seizure and was nonverbal for nearly an hour later. In a way of coping with the harsh memories he had fallen upon what the first little girl did. After her death, but before she realized she was a ghost, she had stayed where she died for nearly ten years, holding her doll, crying for her mommy and daddy, and rocking. Her head hadn’t remained on this entire time. She had also ‘hallucinated’ seeing her parents- who had really been her grandparents calling her from the Light- but she hadn’t understood. Older ghosts had tried to help her but she was so distressed that she couldn’t understand them. Understand their helpful intentions. That had been reflected in Payne’s reaction to her trauma. He had started mimicking her, from her childish tones to gripping a doll that only he could see. At least until Melissa had Jim run to her shop and grab one of the vintage teddy bears for sale. It had a beautiful red, silk ribbon wrapped around the neck of the toy and plush paw pads. It was obviously a loved toy by a child long since grown up, and now it was a toy for a man who could not tell the difference. --- Rick had fled after he gained enough consciousness and awareness to finally drive home. Or at least try. He couldn’t get in his car because Jim had taken his keys, having anticipated this act of his. It wasn’t uncommon for those with inflated pride who had taken a massive blow. That and trauma victims. He was an EMS worker, he saw people with various levels of trauma- physical and mental- daily. After the plane crash well… he hadn’t had any direct victims to work with, but the families and his fellow EMS workers had gained their fair share. It would have been a dramatic scene for the neighbors if it hadn’t been raining so hard that it was forcing everyone inside. Everyone but the hyperventilating, pasty man and Jim. Melissa had tried to rush out after him but he had insisted she stay inside.If both of them got sick then they were screwed. That didn’t stop her from rushing to the closet the moment she realized that Jim was carrying Rick in his arms, soaked with both his tears and the rain. As soon as they were both under the safety of the overhang she tossed a towel at Jim but more carefully wrapped one around the professor. He had flinched and glanced around like he wasn’t quite there. Almost, but not yet. There was still a heavy haziness in his eyes that showed that he was still somewhat lost. “Shh, shh, baby, it’s going to be alright.” Melissa murmured. She brought him into a tight hug and rocked him gently, whispering into his ears soft reassurances. “Come here, Professor, we’re going to keep you safe.” She couldn’t believe how Payne was practically melting against her and how his hands were curling into her shirt. He’d never gotten like this before. This wasn’t like the hugs they had shared, both brief and long. This was desperate. Clinging. There was warmth running down her neck and she realized he was crying again. She had never seen anyone so affected (effected) by a possession. Then again, most weren’t so violent and rarely with children. Children were always more powerful. More emotional. She narrowed her eyes a little at a murmur, more of a whimper. “You’re doing so good, baby boy. Just breathe. Breathe for Mommy.” Jim’s eyes widened as he heard Melissa speak but he didn’t say anything. He could see that his wife was doing something, and that she knew what she was doing. Or at least had an idea. She flicked her eyes at the ground, then at Rick, and he obeyed her silent requests. He wrapped his arms around Rick and Melissa both, pulling them into a warm bear hug. Rick had flinched violently but hadn’t

pulled away. Jim seemed hesitant but an encouraging nod from Melissa had him speaking softly only a moment later. “Daddy’s here, little one. We’ll protect you from all those scary ghosts.” He knew he would be getting a talking-to later about how ghosts weren’t scary, just misunderstood, but he couldn’t make himself care.

Rick whimpered softly and curled in more into Melissa. He didn’t protest the titles though, so they saw no reason to backtrack. Not now. Not while Melissa was bringing them both to the ground and leaning against the couch, keeping her arms wrapped tight around him and comforting him with all she had. “W-why.... Why? Why are they so…” Rick lifted his head away from her shoulder to speak but it was practically incoherent. His voice was strained from the screaming of earlier and the general stress of tears. He saw out of the corner of his eye Jim moving to put a hand on his back and he fought to suppress a flinch. Apparently not enough given by his recoil, then slow retry. He didn’t fight it that time. What was the point? They took his keys, they gave him a bear, they saw him begging and screaming for his (her, she was running through the field, she didn’t mean to cross the land, she was sorry-) parents as he clutched at his own head like it was going to pop off. It wasn’t only that, either. No, he had felt… special when Melissa called him ‘baby boy’. When she and Jim called themselves ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’. It latched onto something inside him that he hadn’t known he had- or perhaps it was something entirely new. He wasn’t going to protest either way. He’d deal with that crisis later once he was sure that it wasn’t just the remnants of the little girl who was screaming in the back of his mind. With a thick, cloying swallow he looked up at Melinda and forced his eyes to meet her. Expecting judgment, amusement, he couldn’t hold it for more than a moment but that was all that he needed. He didn’t see anything like he had been expecting. It was the opposite, really. Melissa looked sincere, and almost loving. Like… like he deserved it. It made him flush red and he buried his face back into her collar and verging on her chest. He felt her put a hand in his hair and gently stroke, massaging a soothing pattern. He couldn’t yet bring himself to call her by her appointed title. It was the last of his pride clinging on to rusted chains. “Jim, go into the drawer on the right side of the kitchen. There are sippy cups and baby bottles that I brought home to clean before they went on sale. Start up a pot of milk and honey and boil the bottles in another pot to sterilize.” Melissa instructed softly. She could feel the professor’s breath hitch against her chest and she cooed quietly. With a gentle maneuver she laid Rick down so his head was in her lap and his eyes closed. Her husband nodded and left to complete her instructions. It definitely wasn’t what he expected his first bottle feeding session to go like but he wasn’t complaining. At least with Rick it would involve less fussy-crying. He sighed as he started up the stove and pots. He truly hoped that his wife knew what she was doing. She normally did, but this was something new for both of them. They had taken care of that baby while Melissa had dealt with the little boy. He could hear her softly murmuring to Rick as he worked. It was… cute. Almost fitting. He had used to be quite irritating, Jim would admit. Always calling him “Melissa’s Husband” “The pretty one” and, on one occasion, blatantly flirted with him in front of her. He had already had a suspicion that the professor was bisexual- he’d flirted with him and Melissa enough to at least give off the idea that he could be- but there was no way to be positive without outright asking him. “Hey, Mel, ask him if he’s lactose. Don’t want to make him sick.” He called from the kitchen. Melissa occasionally stress baked- attempted too, really, Jim almost always took over in the end- so they had both types for various recipes. He could hear her asking the question and paused till he got a response. Almond milk it was. He got the milk out of the fridge and started to warm it, keeping an eye on the old bottle. It was a sturdy thing, he could tell. Thick glass. It took about ten minutes before everything was finished and he wrapped the bottle in a thick kitchen towel. He walked back out to where Melissa was still sitting across the

couch and where Rick had his head resting in her lap. She had her head tipped back back and was still threading her fingers across his scalp. When she heard him return she tipped her head back down and smiled. “Come on, baby. I had Daddy make you something to drink.” Rick raised his head and shuffled back so he could lean against the couch next to her. He brought his knees up to his chest and glanced over his knees at Jim. There was a soft sort of vulnerability in his gaze and he side-eyed Melissa nervously. He relaxed a little at the nod she gave him and took the bottle carefully. It was warm and oddly alluring. There was something in the back of his mind that screamed at him that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he should be drinking beer or something, but there was just something about it that made the fuzziness encroaching on his mind so much thicker. It took a few seconds before he had the courage to bring the bottle to his lips. He kept it mostly hidden behind his drawn knees and one arm draped over them, but Melissa had a full view. It was okay if she did. She had already seen him at some of his worst moments. Moments where he was possessed and blood dripping from his lips. His best friend’s blood that, on bad days, he could still taste the iron.

[aureliasaid]

Arizona & Utah - National Parks

30 Years & Parkatecture

A 9 day tour of the National Parks of Arizona and Utah. 

The Short Version (read on for more details)

Thursday-Saturday, April 23-25 2021

Historic El Tovar

Dinner in the dining room both nights

Kaibab Trail

Scenic Drive

 Saturday, April 24

All en route to our next set of stops:

Glen Canyon

Navajo Historical Bridge over the Colorado  River and numerous rafts having just started their jaunt into the Grand Canyon from Lee’s Ferry Page Horseshoe Bend Under Cover Lake Powell glamping “resort.” 

 Sunday, April 25

Boat rentals were out due to weather/winds so visited Wahweap Marina Lone Rock Beach Zion and Zion Lodge Zion Adventures to figure out the Narrows Hike dinner in Springdale at Oscar’s

 Monday, April 26

Angel’s Landing hike

Whiptail restaurant in Springdale for lunch Zion Lodge for dinner

 Tuesday, April 27

Bryce Canyon National Park is a much higher altitude at 9100 ft and thus the rain of Zion was snow at Bryce. 

The Lodge at Bryce Canyon

Figure 8 trail which combines the Navajo, Peekaboo and Queen’s Garden Trails Dinner in Zion Lodge

 Wednesday, April 28

Capital Reef National Park via Scenic Highway 12 Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument Cassidy’s Arch Trail. A+.

12 mile very rustic scenic drive

Moab Hilton Curio Collection Hoo Doo Hotel Antica Forma Italian restaurant

 Thursday, April 29

Canyonlands National Park

The Maze

scenic drive, hiked several 2-3 mile hikes (XXX) Dead Horse State Park Dinner at Josie Wyatt restaurant

 Friday, April 30

Arches

Salt Lake City - Kimpton Monaco Hotel.

HSL restaurant

LDS Temple

 Know before you go

Utah liquor laws are odd. No food no drinks. 1.5 oz only per drink Lots of places with only beer and wine, though marijuana is legal. Go figure.

Study up on the Moab area esp how to attack Canyonlands which takes more than a day unless you just do Island in the Sky area, but it deserves much more than that. And there is something for everyone - esp if hiking is not for you - 4x4, airplane flights, etc.

Avoid the parks on the weekend if at all possible.  Esp Zion and Arches I would not go to any of the Utah parks if you are going to do fairly serious hiking much after mid-May IMO. And def not the Grand Canyon. Books say start back in Sept...TBD. The heat and dry air are dangerous.

The Utah parks in particular are great for families as there are lots of short and fairly easy options climbing all over the rocks. Not so much for the Grand Canyon.

I might do southern Utah separate from the Moab area....so much to do in both areas on their own.  Could combine Moab with some of Colorado.

Consider going to the parks during winter for a different experience esp Bryce where there is lots of cross country skiing and snowshoeing. There would also be plenty of snowmobiling.

Capital Reef is an easy park to do in a day. No huge need to spend a night here.  We were glad we went on to Moab. Great park though cause it’s not crowded.

If you are visiting 3 parks in one year, an $80 annual pass will be a great investment and for a good cause.

Gran Canyon Tips

Def do the Kaibab Trail over the Bright Angel Trail...way better scenery and more dramatic Don’t go in the summer months period; Early May would be the latest I would go It’s coldest on the rim where it at 6000’. Every 1000’ descent, add 5 degrees Do lots of the overlooks on the rim scenic drive; all a bit different Layers and more layers Electrolytes The Grandview Trail looked like a great option as well.

THE FULL VERSION

Thursday, April 22, 2021 - Grand Canyon

In yet another reason to hate Ameican Airlines, our direct flight was cancelled 48 hrs before departure now with stop and change in DFW. 😡 But such is a travel and it didn’t suppress excitement and anticipation other than cut down on a potential late afternoon activity. Arrived Phoenix 1:30 and set off in our new home, a Mazda CX-5 past Sedona, to Flagstaff and felt right at home on I-40, except the end destination is LA, not Wilmington.

First stop is What-a-Burger for lunch and convenience store for styrofoam cooler and provisions. On to Grand Canyon Village with a stop outside the park for more substantial provisions. Don’t forget your yearly NPS pass if you have it!

Covid regs very prevalent as all museums and visitor centers closed, limited bus service and seats, mandatory masking, and reduced capacity in the restaurants that are open. BUT still packed. Lots of lodging options.....Historic El Tovar is the place of choice, designed in the 1904 by famed Mary Coltar, it has the divine feel of the parkatecture meant to be in keeping with the environment, but also more “luxurious” and cozy than the X Stanley Underwood historic lodges in many of the of parks. El Tovar def considers itself luxury and the prices reflect that both in lodging and in the delicious, highly desired dining room where tuxedoed wait staff show off their desserts as you enter and offer main courses $35 and up.  The main theme is to highlight the Native American culture (Navajo, Hopi, etc.) through artwork, rugs, aesthetics, carvings and on the hotel china. Rooms are modernized and very comfortable with spacious and updated bathrooms.

If you don’t want to afford the EL Tovar, check out the equally historic, but perhaps less lux accommodations at the Bright Angel Lodge just down the way, also built in 1935 in the same log cabin feel. This also has individual cabins that look quite quaint and several dining options and bar. Aside from these, there are several other hotels right in the village with great views and up the way by the Visitor Center area.

 A quick jaunt on the Rim Trail to get acclimated to Canyon Village and breathless views esp at sunset before having a relaxing dinner in the EL Tovar dining room which is a must whether staying there or not. Open breakfast, lunch and diner, reservations are essential though walk-ins are welcomed (the line had already started at 5pm!) It is the best room in the hotel....large, yet cozy with large stone fireplaces at either end flanked by large window views of the Canyon.  Very sumptuous in its own way.

Friday, April 23 - Rim to Rim Hike, Grand Canyon

East Coast time works to your advantage as the earlier the better in getting on the trails. The Kaibab trail is considered the most picturesque and we can vouch for that. We had our styrofoam cooler breakfast at 6am, caught the hikers shuttle at 6:30 and got on the trail at 6:50 though the sun had long been up since 5am. You can pick your turnaround point at various miles. We had thought to turnaround at the 4 mile point of Tip Off, but the Colorado RIver was just (seemingly) close and lured us as if sirens beckoning us on. And so we did. After all it was only 2 more miles and all those other seemingly unlikely people were doing it. In fact they were going Rim-to-Rim. Why not? We had plenty of provisions after all and it wasn’t too hot.

The Colorado River was in fact gorgeous. the color of grass and so inviting, we made it to Black Bridge, the lunch-stopping point for rafters and the home to the famed Phantom Ranch and campgrounds. BTW, reservations to Ghost Ranch is by lottery and a year out.  Good luck. And so, against all better judgement, we recklessly decide to go the Rim-to-Rim following the RIver Trail since Silver Bridge was closed and hooking up with the Bright Angel Trail which meant another 10 miles after having done 7. The theory was that it was different and not as steep as the return on Kaibab, but would be 3 more miles. Hm....lesser of two evils?? The River Trail was gorgeous, but as for the Bright Angel.....well, its a grueling slog. We are milking our R to R feat, but our feet (and knees) are still recovering. In hindsight, we shoulda stuck with the original plan which was down to Tip Off and then back (still uber strenuous) but then rent bikes and bike the Rim Trail which for non-canyon hiking sorts is perfectly gorgeous and can be 26 miles or 100 yards, whatever you want, and all flat!

Recovery consisted of ice cream, bath soak, laid out on the bed, and a martini with dinner back in El Tovar dining room.

TIPS: Def do the Kaibab Trail over the Bright Angel Trail...way better scenery and more dramatic Don’t go in the summer months period; Early May would be the latest I would go It’s coldest on the rim where it at 6000’. Every 1000’ descent, add 5 degrees Do lots of the overlooks on the rim scenic drive; all a bit different Layers and more layers Electrolytes The Grandview Trail looked like a great option as well.

 Saturday, April 24 - On to Lake Powell, Under Canvas

An early, but comparatively relaxed morning. Though breakfast starts at 7am, there was already a 45 minute wait at 7:15, which may be more likely cause of Covid restrictions, but worth the wait with a divine breakfast that we deserved having eaten in rationed portions throughout the previous day’s death march.

Off by way of the Canyon Rim drive to numerous overlooks....check out Mather Point at the Visitor Center for a great view of all your previous hiking (bike rentals here too); then Hance Point for great river views and on to Lipton and Grand View.

Onward waving good bye to the GC our next set of stops including the Glen Canyon for the Navajo Historical Bridge which is just an awesome view over the multi shades of the deliciously green Colorado  River and numerous rafts having just started their jaunt into the Grand Canyon from Lee’s Ferry which is the put in point and considered the start of the Grand Canyon. Back to do the Cathedral Wash hike, this seems an easy and unique 3 mile round trip walk through a gully canyon that can be a death trap during summer storms from flash floods.  Beautiful, it is unique, but not easy and it involves lots of rock climbing, some butt walking, all fours at times, and some bread crumbs would be good too as the trail, inevitably always changing, is not well marked other than by some well meaning folks placing rock stacks/cairns.  The prize though at the end is the Colorado riverside and a delightful foot dip is invigorating in its icy temps.

Highway 89 to Page where the famed Antelope Canyon Slots are closed after 11 people perished in a storm induced flash flood. (Another option to see this is by guided Kayak tours from page which we didn’t pay much attention since we planned to see it buy rented motorboat. Unfortunate decision.) A stop by Horseshoe Bend is a good bathroom break and leg stretcher for a beautiful view of the Colorado. BTW, Page, clearly a jumping off point for Lake Powell, is seemingly very skippable. On to Under Cover Lake Powell glamping “resort.”  A nifty spread of 50 “permanent” tents and the main tent with lots of outdoor seating, fire pits, and food truck type kitchen for breakfast, lunch and dinner. An engineering marvel, each tent is set up with all the modern conveniences. More of a Radisson than a Ritz in the world of glamping, you want for nothing other than decent weather and maybe a pair of earplugs for that tent down the way on their 3rd bottle of wine. Each tent is outfitted with full working toilet, wood burning stove, sink with potable water, hot shower (hand held) delightful bed linens and full USB mighty battery packs for lighting, and any personal charging needs.  A porch and porch furniture, inside leather chairs, and a king bed made for very attractive and comfy digs right down to the wicker tissue holder.

Winds were really blowing so we ate inside the main tent where there was live music and very fresh and creative food cooked on demand. A fun experience that may not be for all, but certainly unique and well done. Would be great with kids, though not small children IMO.

Sunday, April 25 - on to Zion National Park

Our MO of Lake Powell was to see it by boat. Alas, the weather did not cooperate. So what to do? A drive by. So back to Wahweap Marina where the house boats that are 3 stories high and sleep up to 20 are docked like dominoes. Something to behold. The lake is HUGE with majestic and classic red rock formations all around. We scooted over to Lone Rock Beach to see....Lone Rock....a huge rock in the middle of this part of the lake and a big “sandy” beach with tons of people camping, etc. Then onto check out the Amangiri Hotel, tucked away in the desert mountains...but alas...the intercom person at the gated subtle entrance said “we are fully booked and are not giving tours at this time.” Eye-roll. At $4000 a night, ok whatever. We skipped the suggested Wire Canyon slots in Buckskin Gulch and headed for Zion.

Beautiful day and clearly everyone else thought so too. Zion is not for Zion, but for Zoo! Our main goal is to hike the Narrows and when we see the weather for Monday looking rainy and cold, we hustle it up to get going today since its warm and sunny.

Zion is a large park, but very cut up, so the mainly visited section is actually very small. To cut down on traffic, the park closed the lone in and out road to cars except those staying at Zion Lodge, who get a special parking pass and code for the gate. If not at the Lodge, PLAN this well ahead to get your shuttle ticket, reserve your dry gear for the Narrows, food, etc. Otherwise you are dooking it out with the masses. Springdale borders the park and is a  touristy but very attractive town with plenty of places to stay and loads of restaurants.  There aren’t that many hikes, so you really don’t need more than 2 days here unless you want to horseback ride. They tout biking, but it is really mostly as a way to get about in the park. Rentals abound and I would get an e-bike if you need it. But just if you can’t navigate the shuttle, cause the road is not really suited to biking.

So we hurried to Zion Adventures to figure out the Narrows. Supposedly 6 hrs round trip, we decided just to do as much as we could. It can be 1.5 miles or 13 miles.  But MOST important is a good hiking stick, then the water shoes and socks. Additionally, we were geared up in springtime recommended dry pants and very happy with that as well. And we are off. Shuttle to Sinawava, the last stop, walk the riverside trail and get in the Virgin River.  We started at 2:30 and were like Salmon swimming upstream. The masses, hoards and throngs of people were amazing. A river of people in everything from Tevas and shorts with logs as walking poles to one woman with a 6 month old in her arms which is crazy as the walking is quite tricky picking your way thorough and around the rocks, quick current, and various water levels, typically to your calves, but to my waist in some sections. Fortunately most people were returning and we could avoid them. At its widest, the river is maybe 25 yards wide and at the point where we turned around about 2 miles upstream in the Wall Street area, its perhaps 5-8 yards wide. And beautiful. There is a reason it is so popular. Smooth canyon walls and cliffs straight up with varying colors of red, black, gray, and white plus the green vegetation, not often seen in the other desert areas.  Totally unique and worth the effort. I would have been very bummed not to do it. Oh, and it took 3.5 hours, not 6 for a total of about 6 miles from the shuttle drop off.

Feeling very satisfied with ourselves, we had to have the equipment back by 8pm, so decided on dinner in Springdale at Oscar’s was recommended by the young staff at Zion Adventures. Excellent. Super casual indoors and outdoor seating with excellent Mexican and creative burgers. Outstanding. Note: Utah ain’t big on drinking, but know its big revenue, so they allow it with lots of regs: must have food with the drink, lots of places beer and wine only. Another note: my buddy Kirsten is a native Ute and Mormon who said that Mexican is the way to go in Utah and the Utah burger which is a burger with pastrami and gruyere cheese plus “Fry Sauce” -  1000 island/aioli type concoction of mayo, ketchup, pickle juice and salt. It’s quite tasty, but will opt for Mexican over the Utah burger....

 Monday, April 26 - Zion National Park

Not sure if its the weather or that its Monday, but the crowds have slightly dissipated. Nevertheless, our hike to the famed Angel’s Landing was also packed. This is quite the hike. Straight up and on the cliff and ridges. Not for the faint of heart or fear of heights. I bailed about halfway through. Then on to do all the 3 Emerald Pools, which are a great set of trails throughout the rugged terrain with great views, though once again, it felt like Mt. Everest with stop and go hiking at times. A store owner said that Zion had more visitors last year than Yellowstone though minute in size compared to Yellowstone and is busy 9 months out of the year. Something to think about.  Go in very off months IMO.

Then the rains and wind came and with the chilly temps, we packed it in to Whiptail for another delish meal not unlike Oscar’s. We toured some shops, art galleries, and checked out the visitor center which is open because of course its open air...funny that the Park museums and centers such are closed but the shops are open......and then took it in to give our calves and thighs a break.

Had to eat in the dining room, which given Covid and maybe (Utah) and the weather, was not ideal. Disappointing dining room in general with a cafeteria type buffet line, though closed, that made the atmosphere pretty utilitarian. Add ordering everything at the host staton and it delivered to your table. There was a full bar, so that was a bonus. And if we could have easten on the great deck, it would have been significantly better.  Back in the room by 8pm....

 Tuesday, April 27 - on to Bryce Canyon Nat Park

Cold and overcast, we blew out for Bryce by 7:30. Bryce Canyon National Park is a much higher altitude at 9100 ft and thus the rain of Zion was snow at Bryce.  Beautiful drive through the Red Canyon in the Dixie National Forest which was gorgeous. Snow everywhere and the red cliffs and hoodoo formations of Bryce were simply magical with a dusting of snow.

The Lodge at Bryce Canyon was much more what we hoped for in terms of parkatecture expectations. Not grand, but cozy log cabin style with good common spaces around the large fireplace, comfortable dining room with several fireplaces and overall homey and welcoming. The historic cabins looked desirable, but alas are not heated and don’t open til summer. Which was good since more snow arrived late afternoon and night.

We took off immediately for the Figure 8 trail which combines the Navajo, Peekaboo and Queen’s Garden Trails for about 7 miles.  Fantastical scenery of the hoo doo formations with the trail carved into the side of the cliffs and through the canyon bottom.  Lots of fun and challenging.  Afterwards, the scenic drive is a good way to rest legs and see remarkable scenery along the 18 mile way. A quick mile loop at the end for views (and the 1800 year old Bristlecone Pine tree.)

And the snow came again. Gorgeous wet, granular (called Grapple) flakes accumulated quickly and was beyond beautiful. A break in the clouds gave way for a blue sky sunset, but the snow showers returned covering the firs and junipers.

Dinner was much the same as Zion Lodge, only more utilitarian, but at least a more inviting setting. Order with the host, pay and they give it to you not on Poland but literally in complete take out paper bags. You can at least sit at the tables after sanitizing and if discreet, the staff looks the other way with regard to the no alcohol in the building. Makers and water in our water bottle worked just fine with the elk chili.

 Wednesday, April 28 - Capital Reef Nat Park to Moab

Once again, a “take-in” breakfast at the Lodge and then on the road to Capital Reef National Park. The big question: is Scenic Highway 12 ok to drive after the snow?  The pass at Boulder is almost 10000 ft and can be tricky. With temps predicted to be 60 by afternoon, we decided yes. And well worth it. Ducking through the Dixie NF and the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, which BTW is not a monument per se, but 1.9 million miles of area that refers to the stairstepped terrain from the seismic shift 60 million years from the Colorado Plateau down to and help setting the stage for the development of the Grand Canyon.

Anywho, arrived CRNP to low fanfare. A mid-major park, it is unique in its own right of white sandstone domes like Capital buildings and reef by the seafaring pioneers who were finding the travel difficult to navigate like reefs. Those determined Mormons MUCH later than the Paiute and Fremont natives) who did make a success here as the canyon bottom is quite fertile from the Fremont River. WIth limited time, we headed for the two starred hikes - 3.5 mile 1200 elevation Cassidy’s Arch Trail. A+. Get your knees limbered and Mountain Goat Shoes on as you climb the rocks - challenging and gorgeous but not scary and great rewards at the end for Cassidy’s Arch (so named since the area was a fav haunt for Butch and the Wild Bunch.) Then the 12 mile very rustic scenic drive to the Canyon Groge in and out. The last section is dirt road and is the Narrows for carsa Dan is more entertaining than the dry canyon narrows walk, which is still good. And that’s it folks for CRNP. Check. Off for another 3 hr drive to Moab.

So Moab....well described in the guide book - a cross between Aspen and Gatlinburg. The main drag is just that....Main Street is 4 lane and constantly busy and loud with major 18 wheelers heading right through town. We were very uneducated about Moab and it was much different from what we expected as were the parks there too. Much revolves around motorized sports - 4x4 wheeling, motocross, airplanes, etc. We missed that whole aspect.  Places renting every kind of vehicle with it without guides, then  all the mechanical shops to fix it right on Main Street.  It has exploded with 7 new hotels having gone up in the past 2 years, but it is a real mishmash of tourists stuff. It clearly developed as a means to an end and gentrification and sophisticated take a back seat.....so far. And that’s true with restaurants too. Plan ahead and get a rezzie at the Desert Bistro. 

Checked into the Hilton Curio Collection Hoo Doo Hotel which is new and quite nice. ANd quite nice after 7 days to be in some commercialism. Get Hoo Doo has a great heated pool area, with excellent restaurant Josie Wells with a big outdoor space and also opens up into the pool.  Quiet, spa and right in town which is just what we wanted vs the much pricier and out from town Sorrel Lodge.  We walked to dinner at Antica Forma Italian restaurant, which left ALOT to be desired in terms of atmosphere - loud, a sort of independentyl owned Olive Garden type, BUT  the food was quite good - thin crust pizza and light, homemade tomato sauce in the lasagna. 

 Thursday, April 29 - Canyonlands National Park

A more relaxed, sunny and beautiful day going to 80 degrees with a sit down breakfast with Canyonlands National Park as the day’s destination. About 30 miles outside Moab, Canyonlands is all about the 4x4 and seeing the park is almost next to impossible without it. Not having planned for this, we decided to enjoy only the more popular section of Islands in the Sky. It’s almost 2 hrs to get to The Needles section or a different 1.5 hrs to get to the XXX section and The Maze is basically  only reachable by 4x4 or long hikes. So, we did the ubiquitous scenic drive, hiked several 2-3 mile hikes (XXX) and called it a day to go back and explore Moab, the pool, and get needed lunch provisions.  Great decision.  BUT if we had researched more or had more time or probably just now that we know, we would allow more time and plan for some of the other activities because it is beautiful and amazing.  Maybe more than the Grand Canyon, which while awesome, is just one canyon and this is HUGE, vast millions of canyons in every direction being carved by both the Green and Colorado rivers.  We were dumbstruck. Once again, the hikes were sorta crowded so ice there is not so much that can be done in one day for the average tourist like us.

Dinner at Josie Wyatt restaurant at the hotel which was quite good.

 Friday, April 30 - Arches National Park

We had seen the long lines of cars to get in Arches en route to Canyonlands, so we were up and atta’em at the gate by 8:30 still to a mass of cars filing in. Perhaps the horse heading back to the barn, or 9 straight days of hiking or the heat or the loads of people, but we were somewhat underwhelmed by Arches.  Still a wonder to see, this is the park for families. Like many of the other Utah parks, there is endless rock climbing hikes, but here there lots of short hikes just off the road easy for all.  And they were there.  Packed and wither ranger directed parking or circling lots hoping for someone to leave.  Ugh. We saw the most impressive arches and they were fun, had our picnic and pointed our car north to Salt Lake City where we stayed in town at the Kimpton Monaco Hotel. We scouted out the nest eats and landed at HSL about 10 blocks away and scored major.  Creative and outstanding followed by a night walk around the city where the Temple is something to see for sure.

 Saturday, May 1 - Salt Lake City departure

Flying the friendly skies, which BTW, the Salt Lake Airport is pretty great. Very close to town (stay in town unless your flight is seriously 0:dawn thirty) new, clean (like all Mormon stuff plus organized.) The Delta terminal is quite nice.