Ft. Craig & The Overlanders

Fred, the host at Ft. Craig Visitor Center, said he gets lots of Germans. He said they know more about Western History than most Americans. And they're willing to make the four-mile trip, one way, from the highway.

We'd solved all the world problems and were basking in self-satisfaction when Ed and Mary came in. They're overlanders and had just concluded an expedition across the Navajo Reservation. They'd been forced to backtrack 60 miles by a locked gate that wasn't shown on the old map they were using and were a tad concerned about the time. But Ed said they'd met several folks who'd invited them to stay and it'd been a great time. Unfortunately, they had to be in Tuscon by the next evening.

They've been married 37 years and retired at age 50 when they began traveling...eight years ago. Mary had hiked to Phantom Ranch, at the bottom of The Grand Canyon, a few days before. Ed said he felt incredibly lucky as there aren't many women who enjoy the lifestyle. 

They had bought several fixer-uppers and then rented them out. The houses provide most of their income, but they're both nurses and, when necessary, can easily find work. 

Ed said they live frugally; no children except their pets and they're down to one 20-year-old cat. It usually travels with them but had decided to layover in Tuscon (thus the need to return). Repairs to their vehicle have been minor. It has a little over 150,000 miles on it. They look pretty happy, don' chew tink?

The Fluffiness of Ocotillos

The plan was to visit a little-known overlook at the South Rim of Grand Canyon followed by a slow wend up to the North Side. 

               At camp that evening, 

                                  not far from Williams, Arizona, 

                                                  it was warm enough to comfortably make dinner

                                                                                                                         and 

                                                                           enjoy the evening sky.



In the morn however, it was a different story. Mixed clouds with a chance of dog biscuits (we're cat people, dontchya know?) discouraged any inclinations toward the breakfast lingers. We wuz on duh rode at an unprecedented 10:30 a.m.

By noon I was at the Geology Museum on the South Rim. There was (similar to there is instead of there are) intermittent drizzles whose localized sheets of misting made for great photos; they also helped distract from the fact that you can no longer clearly see farther than the first line of formations.  I was surprised to read on the big info placard outside the museum about how the haze is man-made and even comes from as far away as Asia (wow!!..to quote Andy Warhol). And although on a good day, they go on to say, it's now clearer than it was, on a bad day it's as bad as ever.

It took a while to locate the spot, but the Great Cosmic Furrball beneficently held the wet at bay during the hike out, while the sun set, and all the way back to the parking lot. But by Tusayan, the supply hamlet a few miles south of The Park Entrance, it was pouring. It was reaaallly dark when I pulled under the big ponderosa back at the North-of-Williams camp (NOT Kaibab Lake C.G. If boondocking-curious, email for directions).

The next two weeks were spent one-jumping ahead of the reins. Between grumbles about mildew & wet tarps, I marveled at the fluffiness (fluffiness!!!) of the ocotillos along Chicken Springs Road, the first leg to Alamo Lake*. When everyone else was ready to hang it up after a long, hot summer, they are partying heartily. 

Fluffy

This is as close as I wanted to get. Water, especially lakes, gives me the heebie-jeebies. 

Kingman's blue sky inspired new optimism. Happily humming We've Only Just Begun, I took highway 93 twenty miles (perzakly) to Big Wash Rd, about two miles beyond Chloride. I'd read about Big Wash in a trip log on Overland Frontier (couldn't find it now) and was eager to see for my self. But, again, the rains came. 

After some reflection I recalled that my new, improved, laptop-charger had probably arrived from China and I should return to Albuq to get it. While there I volunteered to fix fence in the Gila Wilderness to keep cows out of wolf habitat. Hopefully Obama's and Governor Brown's (of California) 


                       efforts to mitigate climate change 


                                       will have an effect


                                       within the next few days


                       and it'll stop raining. 


This too may have potential. 

* I made it to within about five miles of Alamo Lake, but espying, thru binocs, a bevy of RVs, I decided to put down roots where I wuz. If u 2 eschew (it rhymes!) close proximity of others, watch for the spot on the left near the top of the hill overlooking the lake. There's one right at the top on the right, but it doesn't have the view of the canyon to the northeast.

Phil Endicott's '32 Dodge

It was like Mulberry Street. Toodling along on the freeway with nothing but the usual. Then suddenly...a golden flash from the HEADLIGHT of a car behind me. What was this?! A turn signal the size of a cantaloupe?!!

As the radiator came along side its texture hinted at what was to come. And then, at the firewall I began to experience the excitement Marco sought; something different!

When they stopped at the Arizona line I pulled in behind.

Phil Endicott claims he's just a Missouri farmer; never thought of himself as an artist. He spent three years hammering the copper sheets that are the body, forging the myriad other accoutrements and cutting, sanding and polishing the teak that compliments the interior. (That's teak under the windshield and the sideview mirror in the photo below.)

It was hot in the sun but Wanda managed to smile. 

They were on their way to Los Angeles to take delivery on the custom front wheels to match the rears. 


Contrary to what it looks like, Phil said the interconnected triangles were personal symbols of the Dodge brothers...not the Star of David. It's use was discontinued in 1932.

Brint Brown's TR3

I'm continually amazed by the timing. I'd spent the day exploring dirt tracks off highway 128 and had just returned from the one that begins at The Dewey Bridge. I was swigging water and contemplating my next move when a TR3 turned into the parking area. I nearly choked!! 

I'd owned one in my youth and that experience plus a later one with a Triumph Bonneville 650 motorcycle had inspired awe for anyone that ventured more than a few blocks from their mechanic. And here, at The Bridge, it's 25 MILES to Moab! 

Brint Brown became enamored of British cars in his teens and has (and still does) owned several including 40 years with the gleaming specimen shown above. He bought it from a friend whose parents used to drive it, on weekends, from Salt Lake City to Elko, Nevada (naivete/chutzpah?!!).

He also told the tale of the bridge. When you're there you'll notice there's no deck...just cables dangling like a bunch of dead daddy-longlegs. Brint said a local philanthropist paid for the bridge's restoration and it was, for years, enjoyed by hikers and sight-seers from near and far. Then, in 2008, an unsupervised 6-year-old set fire to the bosque. When the fire reached the bridge, the deck, which was wood, went up in smoke...leaving nought, as you'll see, but the cables.

When Brint heard I needed water he invited me to his shop where I got to see his other vehicles: a 1973 Land Rover that looked as if it'd just come in from an episode of Marlin Perkins' Wild Kingdom 

and a 1968 VW camper bus with its original wood paneling still gleaming under a fine coat of dust. He also has a '60s model Baja Bug with the full sunroof that extends back to the rear seats. All were in road-ready condition and only in need of fuel and a battery to be on their way.

He said he'd started at the Porsche dealership after high-school and had been factory trained. He owned his own business for many years and since retiring does some work now and then for friends. But he said he'd be happy to recommend someone if you're in need. His shop, Sandstone Garage, is at 1238 S. Hwy 191, Moab. Phone: 801-259-8516.

Yampa Bench Road - Dinosaur National Monument

Yampa Bench Road, also known as County Road 14N, continues the experience of being indescribable (see prev post). 

That said...

There's one wet spot near the Echo Park junction that looks much worse than it is; the sides are soft but the middle is rock solid. That, of course, was determined after careful assessment. (I once spent an afternoon extricating us from a creek that LiED to me about its passability. Fortunately, it was a nice day and we had no other commitments.)


Unbeknownst, Nadja & Bruno (link to their photos) were documenting my risk-analysis. 

And though speed was unnecessary, the windshield splatters leant drama to the moment.

Photo Courtesy of Nadja Krebs - Bern, Switzerland

Bruno took the video while Nadja captured stills from their vehicle. (The date on the vid is incorrect. I left it that way as proof of something.) 

It's 42 miles from the junction of the Echo Park turnoff to Elk Springs, Colorado, with 15% grades on the switchbacks, some ruts and an occasional large rock. Top speed is 15mph. The views of the Yampa River from the overlooks are (lest you arrived with lingering skepticism) worth it.

LAND spreddin' out far & wide!! 

The switchbacks are steep and tight. Perhaps, as you began the descent to Echo Park, you noticed the cautionary note about trailers over 25 feet.

I got water at Echo Park Campground before setting out. The first day a young woman in a Jeep stopped to discuss the location of the trails. Later, in the afternoon, a guy went by going the other way.

Still Life with Sunglasses

The day after -- 9/23/15 -- was busy....four cars. The 3rd day, which included the 15 miles from the Monument Boundary to Elk Springs, I had it to myself. 

Echo Park - Dinosaur Nat'l Monument

This is Canyon Country non-pareil....words don't exist to describe it. Suffice to say there's water (during the summer) at Echo Park C.G.


Somewhere not far from the Yampa's convergence with the Green.

(I'm a Buster Keaton fan and when asked of my whereabouts frequently have to answer, "Damfino.")

Rafts landing.

Now you can see...

A short vid of river reflections. 

The kind of thing that makes bein' out there diff from bein' in town.

The old Chew place. Homesteaded in the late 1800s...

The Chew's RV (aluminum siding was de rigueur in the mid-1800s)...

A lite cleaning and it'd be ready to go... 

Somebody coulda been killed!!!!!

After fording...sorta like post-coital, but diff. ; - )

Landsailing

It's the web, right? So it was only a couple of taps from the Washington State International Kite Fest to landsailing in New Mexico (THIS vid is in Wyoming.) 

I emailed to ask about building plans and was surprised to be invited to try one out in SW Wyoming. 

Waiting to Go

The design is the result of over fifteen years of testing. They're built to withstand the challenges of difficult terrain and the abuse of newbies such as myself. Contact Rick Hypes at windisfun.com for more info.

Jim & Dave

Wahu!!!!





They also had a very cool firepit made from the tub of a washing machine. It breathes better than the National Forest fire rings, is deep enough to contain sparks and leaves no trace.