Road Tripping USA Part Ten by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

www.joandonaldsonyarmey.com

 

 

Author’s Note

I belong to Angels Abreast, a breast cancer survivor dragon boat race team in Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada. Every four years the International Breast Cancer Paddlers Commission IBCPC) holds an international festival somewhere in the world. In the spring of 2013, my team received a notice that the IBCPC had chosen Sarasota, Florida, USA, to hold the next festival in October 2014.
     We decided to attend and while the other members were going to fly down, tour around some of the sites and head home I wanted to see more of the country and meet some of the people. My husband, Mike, and I drove from our small acreage at Port Alberni, British Columbia, on the Pacific Ocean, to Sarasota, Florida on the Atlantic Ocean.
     Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the people I would meet nor the beautiful places I would see nor the adventures I would have on our ten week, 18,758km (11656 mile) journey. On the thirteenth day of every month in 2016 I will post a part of my trip that describes some of the excellent scenery, shows the generosity and friendliness of the people, and explains some of the history of the country. The people of the USA have much to be proud of.

Road Tripping USA Part Ten

We drove to Langtry, Texas, and stopped at the Judge Roy Bean Saloon and Museum. Roy Bean owned a store when he was appointed as Justice of the Peace of the Pecos County to combat the lawlessness of the area. He moved his court to Langtry and set up a tent saloon. He later built a wooden saloon which he named the Jersey Lilly after famous English actress, Lillie Langtry. She was his idol and he composed many letters to her inviting her to his town, which he claimed he named after her.
     Judge Roy Bean dispatched his own version of the law and was known as the ‘Law West of the Pecos’. Although he was also known as the ‘Hanging Judge’ there is conflicting information about that. Some say there is no evidence that he ever sentenced anyone to hang and others state that he sentenced two men to hang, one of whom escaped. His bar, or the front verandah, was his courtroom and his customers usually acted as a jury. He had one law book, his own idea of frontier justice, and a six gun to back his decisions.
     Lillie Langtry was born Emilie Le Breton on October 13, 1853, in Jersey, England. She married Edward Langtry in 1874. Her beauty won her many acclaims and she became a stage actress in 1881. She later formed her own production company. She toured the UK and went to the United States on tour in 1883. After many such trips, Lilly, as the American's spelled her name, became an American citizen in 1897. She died in Monaco on February 12, 1929. She did get to Langtry, Texas, in 1904, but it was a few months after Judge Roy Bean's death.  
     The buildings- the billiards hall, the saloon, and the opera hall- are all original and well preserved. We walked into the saloon and I bellied up to the bar. In the Opera House was a bed and some other furniture.
     Beside the museum is the Cactus Garden Interpretive Trail. We wandered the path through the different cacti reading their names and descriptions of their uses. I learned that the fruit and flowers of the Spanish Dagger are edible and the fiber is used for string, and that candy is made out of the Eagles Claw. It was a lovely walk through the garden and across a man-made dry river.
     Langtry is just a few houses near the museum and a post office. I bought a post card and mailed it to mom.
     We were on the eastern edge of the Chihuahuan Dessert and we drove through this desert over the next week as we went through southwestern Texas and into New Mexico and Arizona. The desert also goes south into Mexico. It covers 139,769 sq. miles (362,000 sq. km) and is the third largest desert on the Western hemisphere, and second only to the Great Basin in North America.

     At Marathon we headed south and passed a sign stating we had entered the Big Bend National Park. However, the headquarters were still 28 miles (45km) away and the campground 20 miles (32km) past that on the Rio Grande. We drove through a tunnel and finally reached the campground after dark.

     Big Bend National Park is named for the big curve in the Rio Grande. It covers 800,000 acres (323,760ha) of desert and mountains, and includes 118 miles (190km) of the Rio Grande. It is the largest protected area of the Chihuahuan desert in the U.S.
     In the shower/laundry room the next morning, I talked with a woman who said she and her husband had been in the park for five days and were planning on staying for a couple more. They had been RVers for a year, travelling around the countryside. She told me about some of the hiking trails in the park. She said to watch for the trinkets that were beside the hiking trails for people to buy. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about but I figured I would find out.
     Mike and I walked to the boat launch and Mike put his foot in the Rio Grande. We drove to the Rio Grande Village nature trail. Mike wasn’t sure how far he could get but we set out. Just as we crossed the bridge over a pond we met four people who had just finished the trail.
     “Is the trail worth going on?” I asked.
     “Oh, yes,” one of the men said.
     “Is it hard?”
     “Going around the bottom of the hill is okay but it is a steep climb to the top.”
     The other man wore a jacket with the name Jasper on it. Mike saw it and asked. “Are you from Jasper, Alberta?”
     “No. We’re from London, Ontario. We’re Canadians.”
     “We’re Canadians from Vancouver Island.”
      The man said they came down to Texas every fall to spend the winter with their friends in San Antonio. He asked us what we were doing. Mike said we had gone to an international breast cancer dragon boat survivor festival in Sarasota.
     “Oh,” one of the women said. “One of our friends in London belongs to a breast cancer survivor dragon boat team and she was at Sarasota.”
     I asked the name of the team was but they couldn’t remember.
     We started hiking along the trail and we hadn't gone very far when we found some hiking sticks, and scorpions, road runners, necklaces, ocotillos, roosters, and other items made out of beads and copper wire in a group by the trail. There was a piece of cardboard beside them with the prices on it and a plea for donations to support their school.
     These were the trinkets the woman in the laundromat had been talking about. They were left there by Mexicans who came across the river.
     It was on the honour system to pay and there was a container to leave the money. Mike and I each bought a hiking stick. Mike's had a bird and a cactus painted on it and mine had a snake. We carried on and found three more wayside trinket sites. We climbed up to a magnificent overlook where we could see Mexico across the Rio Grande. There were beautiful canyon rock walls and a town way in the distance. Donkeys grazed just on the other side of the river. Interpretive signs told about the border and the wild animals in the area.
     We descended and then I decided to walk around the hill. On the way I found a sign for a river spur trail. I strolled along it towards the river. On the way I saw bowl-like depressions in slabs of rock. I had talked with the woman in the store when we registered the night before and she told me that they had been notched by the natives centuries ago and every time they came through they used them to grind their grain into flour.
     On our way back to our camper, we met two women heading out on the trail. I told them to watch for the hiking sticks and trinkets. One of them said she thought it was against the law to buy stuff from illegal aliens.
     We headed to the Boquillas Crossing Port of Entry. There was a building at the Port of Entry but the crossing was closed. A man was doing some work on the building so I went and talked to him. He explained that anyone wanting to go to Mexico could walk down to the river. The Mexicans on the other side would come across in boats to pick them up and take them to the town we had seen across the river where they could shop or relax.
     “Many people just go across to chill and say they have been there,” he said.
     There is no guard at the crossing. There are cameras set up and it is monitored in El Paso. Inside the building is a kiosk where anyone wanting to cross could scan their passport. El Paso checks the passport and can keep track by camera when the tourists return.
     The man told me that for hundreds of years the Mexicans had been crossing the river into the US on a bridge at this crossing and no one said anything about it. Then the border patrol decided it wasn't right so they demolished the bridge. But, because they knew the crossings would continue anyway, they gave the Mexicans some green aluminum boats. Those boats are the ones they pick up tourists in.
     On the way to the Boquillas Canyon overlook we saw a sign that said: Purchase or possession of items obtained from Mexican Nationals is illegal.
     We weren’t sure if that meant the items at the trinket sites or if we bought something from them in person.
     From the overlook we could see the river below and a tall rock face in the distance on the Mexican side. There are more trinkets-necklaces, anklets, tea towels, hiking sticks. We looked down on three Mexicans on the other side of the river who were watching us through binoculars. They had a small fire going and one of those green boats sat on the river bank. Mike liked a rock with crystals embedded in it and he bought it. He held the money in the air before putting it in the jar then picked up the rock and showed them. He waved and they waved back.

     We had our oil changed in Alpine and then left on the Texas Mountain Trail. The scenery was wide open spaces, grass, cows, some cacti, some bush, and hills in the distance.

     We drove into Valentine. It has a population of 217 people and no services. Mike saw a sign for a library and he stopped. I still had some of my books so I went in to see if I could donate them to the library. The librarian was very friendly and told me about the founding of the Kay Johnson Library.
     "Kay and her husband owned a ranch near here and she always wanted to do something for Valentine but never got to it before she passed away. So her daughter, and her husband, from Austin Texas bought this old house, fixed it up, and started the library in Kay Johnson's name."
     She took me on a tour showing me the different rooms.
     "Each room has a different type of book: mysteries, romances, children's. There is even one for hard covers. All the books have been donated and anyone can borrow a book."
     "I am a mystery writer," I said. "I have copies of my three novels in the camper. Would you be interested in a set?"
     "Oh, yes." she said. "That would be wonderful."
     I came back and signed them. I gave them to her, then signed the guest book. The place is not advertised but tourists do stop in. A couple from Sweden had signed the book a few days before me.
     The West Texas Valentine's Day celebrations are held in Valentine on Valentine's Day, hosted by the Big Bend Brewing Company from Alpine, Texas. A building in the town has been renovated to hold the party. There are usually three bands, lots of food to eat, and a dance. People come from all over the area to celebrate.
     Valentine began as a station on the Southern Pacific Railroad. There are two stories as to how it received its name. One is that it was founded on Valentine's Day. The other is that it was named after John Valentine, a stockholder in the railroad. The population grew to 600 but when diesel engines were introduced in 1950 the roundhouse was closed. The crew change point was moved in 1984 and the population slowly dwindled.

     We decided we wanted Mexican food for lunch. We saw a sign for Chuy's Restaurant in Van Horne and stopped there. While we waited for our food we were told the story of a Monday night in 1987 when John Madden stopped in to watch Monday night football on their television. During his career Madden was an NFL football player, a super bowl winning coach, and a football commentator on television. He liked the food of this restaurant so much he mentioned it in articles he wrote for magazines. On one of his television shows he called it the "All Madden Haul (sic) of Fame". Madden had been coming to Chuy's for many years and had his own director’s chair with his name on it.

     Mike ordered Quesadillas and I had Flautas, which is shredded beef in corn tortillas. The food was delicious but I don't think we will be back every year.
     As we continued north we are in the Guadeloupe Mountains. Guadeloupe Peak is the highest point in Texas at 8749 ft. (2667m).

Road Tripping USA Part Eight by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

www.joandonaldsonyarmey.com

 

Author’s Note

I belong to Angels Abreast, a breast cancer survivor dragon boat race team in Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada. Every four years the International Breast Cancer Paddlers Commission IBCPC) holds an international festival somewhere in the world. In the spring of 2013, my team received a notice that the IBCPC had chosen Sarasota, Florida, USA, to hold the next festival in October 2014.
     We decided to attend and while the other members were going to fly down, tour around some of the sites and head home I wanted to see more of the country and meet some of the people. My husband, Mike, and I drove from our small acreage at Port Alberni, British Columbia, on the Pacific Ocean, to Sarasota, Florida on the Atlantic Ocean.
     Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the people I would meet nor the beautiful places I would see nor the adventures I would have on our ten week, 18,758km (11656 mile) journey. On the thirteenth day of every month in 2016 I will post a part of my trip that describes some of the excellent scenery, shows the generosity and friendliness of the people, and explains some of the history of the country. The people of the USA have much to be proud of.

 Road Tripping USA Part Eight

In the morning I went into the McDonalds in Panama City, Florida,

 

to check emails. While I was there Mike saw a man sitting on the parking lot curb.

Mike’s Story: So there I was sitting in the motorhome all by myself because my wife had left me. The cats got tired of talking with me. I looked around and saw a guy sitting on a curb. Cats won't talk with me, wife is gone so I hobbled on my cane out to the guy on the curb. He was sitting with his head down and a cardboard sign propped beside him: Need Help, Thank You.

     He looked very depressed. I stood there. He looked up at me.
     “Hello,” he said.
     “Hello,” I said. I was in bad shape so I had a hard time rolling onto my knees, to my bum, to the ground to sit beside him. “So tell me your story.”
     He came from Tennessee to look for a job because he heard there was a lot of work in Florida. He was a painter and worked new construction. In order to get here, though, he had to sell everything. Once he arrived he found there was a lot of work but no one would hire him. First, because he was 60 years of age and they didn't think he could do the work, and secondly because he didn't have a means of transportation. He didn't own a car. There were places that would hire him if he had a car. He didn't know what to do. He doesn't have a pension to fall back on.
     I could tell he had a lot of pride. He missed his dad and phoned him once in a while. His dad is in his 80s and when he hears his son, he cries.
     I asked him why he wouldn't go home because it didn't make sense after that story and he said he didn't want his family to see him like he was, his dad, his brother, his sister. I asked him if he thought his dad would love him any more if he was the president of the US. It sounded that if his dad cried when they talked on the phone it didn't make any difference to him.
     “You should go home,” I said.
     “Maybe you're right,” he agreed. “Thank you for taking the time to sit down on the curb beside me and talk with me.
     “I wish I could help you more but I can't.”
     “That’s okay. The time you spent was lots and the talk was lots.”
     We talked some more and he said it was cold, he hated the nights sleeping out. I told him yes, I had done it myself when a teenager.
     “Sleeping out is a bugger,” I said “Where I come from you could freeze your ass off.”
     “Where are you from?”
     “Canada.”
     “Yeah,” he said. “Canada's cold.”
     “When did you eat last?”
     “Three days.”
     “That's counting today?” I asked.
     “No today is the fourth day.
     “How much would it cost to buy a meal?
     “I don’t know what to ask you for, you can eat cheap at McDonalds for $5.00.”
     “Could you have a good meal if I gave you twenty dollars?”
     “With twenty dollars I could eat for four days and I could start on my way home.”
     So I gave him twenty bucks and he thanked me. When he said he thought he should go home I said it would be a good idea because it doesn't matter how much money you have if you don't have family you don't have anything. He agreed.
     “Don’t give up,” I said.
     “I’m not giving up and I wouldn't give up.” He shook my hand. “God bless you. I'll walk you to your camper so you don’t fall down.”
     It was night when we entered Biloxi, Mississippi. We found a place to camp and the next morning drove to the Boomtown Casino. Part of it is on a barge where Mullet Lake empties into Biloxi Bay so it is considered a floating casino, a throw back to when gambling on land was illegal. To get around that law, paddle wheelers with poker games and machines plied the rivers and lakes. When the law was changed those paddle wheelers disappeared and casinos were built on land.
      We actually came out ahead on this floating casino. Mike spent $72.00 and won $100.00 and I spent $20.00 and made $30.00 so we were $38.00 ahead. We went to the buffet in the casino for lunch. It cost us $54.00 but what a meal: catfish, flounder, all the snow crab we could eat, roast beef, potatoes, shrimp, sushi, pizza, vegetables, salads and much more.
     As we drove through Biloxi, the Gulf of Mexico with soft sandy beaches was to our left. There were stately old houses to our right. We travelled about 30 miles (48km) with beside the beach. Then we crossed a bridge over St. Louis Bay with the gulf to the left and bay to right. At the end of bridge we were in St Louis and away from the water.

     As we neared New Orleans in Louisiana I asked Lola for a tourist information center. I wanted to go to one on the outskirts of the city so that we could find out where the French Quarter was and go straight there. Lola gave me about ten choices. Not knowing the city I just randomly picked one and hoped for the best. She took us right downtown.

     We didn't know where we were going but followed her directions to the Basin St. Station Tourist Information Center. We found a parking lot facing St Louis Street near the information center that charged $3.00 for a ten-hour stay or $10.00 for twenty-four hours. There were a few other vehicles and a motorhome was set up in the far corner. We paid 3.00 thinking we would only be there long enough to get our information and then be gone.
     In the center we discovered we were just a block from the French Quarter. And that we could also book a dinner cruise on the Mississippi, which we did for 7:00pm that evening. We got a map and headed out on St Louis Street to tour the French Quarter. The French Quarter is the oldest neighbourhood in New Orleans. Also known as Vieux Carre, it has been designated as a National Historic Landmark.
     As we walked down one of the streets a young lady came across the street towards us. She wore skimpy shorts and nothing else. She had painted her boobies all different colours. There was money sticking out of the waistband of her shorts and she had some in her hand. Mike got so excited that he took a picture of her.
     “That's going to cost you,” she yelled at him.
     “What?” he asked
     “It costs you to take my picture.”
     “Okay, my wife will pay.”
     “What?” I tried to hide my smile.
     Mike didn’t even look at me. He was staring at the young girl. “Yup, my wife will pay.”
     I gave her some money then took a picture of the two of them together. She didn't charge me.  As we walked away I thought, what an excellent way of make a living. Just paint your boobs and walk around in skimpy shorts collecting money. I wondered if maybe I could do the same only I would cover the seniors’ age group. I looked around and saw that there were quite a few potential customers.

     On Bourbon Street we went into a bar and ordered drinks. We had a good visit with the bartender who said he was hoping to leave New Orleans soon and pursue a different career. We continued our tour stopping in at a shop to buy bead necklaces. I wanted to take a swamp tour and we went into an agency. The man was willing to book at that time but Mike wanted to wait until the next day to see how he felt. The man said we could come early in the morning and book.

     On our way back to our camper we tried to take a tour of Cemetery #1 which was across St Louis Street from the parking lot. The gate was locked. I decided to check the next day.
     In the motorhome Mike laid down and I read. When he got up we decided we might as well stay the night in the parking lot. The cruise ended at 10:00pm and we figured we wouldn’t be getting back until around 11:00pm. Before we left at 5:00pm I went and put in another $3.00 to last us until three in the morning. We had been told that there was a trolley car we could catch to take us down Canal Street to the harbour but we wanted to walk. Mike took his cane for support.
     It was getting dark as we walked down Canal Street. It was brightly lit with lots of people, traffic, and the trolley cars going by. We arrived early at the ticket booth of the cruise. We took pictures of the cruise ship, named the Creole Queen, and then went into an outlet mall to wander around. There was a Lindt Lindor chocolate store. Each piece of chocolate was 26 cents or 150 for $44.00 dollars. Christmas was coming and those are my chocolate of choice during the holiday season. But rather than buy them and have to carry them with me on the cruise, I decided I would walk back in the morning and get some. Plus, I have absolutely no will power and I knew that if I took them with me I wouldn't have room for the meal on the cruise.
     We lined up to board the ship. We were seated and told to help ourselves to the buffet. I decided to take everything and at least taste it. I tried the chicken and sausage jambalaya although I didn't take the sausage. The rice with bean sauce and the Cajun green beans were both very spicy. The corn dish was delicious. I felt safe taking a lot of the garlic potatoes. I was told the gumbo was flavourful but not spicy and that was true. The corn muffins were sweet. For dessert there was bread pudding that tasted like a cinnamon bun with raisins. It was so good I had two helpings. There was also roast beef and Caesar salad but I didn't sample them. I can get them at home. I had water because there was either that, or an alcoholic drink or coffee and I’m not a coffee drinker.
     The meal was served between 7:00pm and 8:00pm and a three-piece band played jazz. At 8:00pm we started our cruise up the river. It was very dark and we could see the lights of New Orleans as we left. The Creole Queen is an authentic paddle wheeler. She is powered by a 24 foot (7.3m) diameter paddle wheel and made her maiden voyage in 1983. Mike and I headed outside but we were going against the wind so it was chilly. We went back inside and listened to the music. When the Creole Queen turned around we were sailing with the wind and it was quite balmy.
     I spent a lot of time out on the deck watching the water churn by and seeing the lights on shore. The river was busy even in the dark as a number of boats and barges went by. I walked to the back end and watched the paddle wheel work for a while then leaned on the railing and just enjoyed the fact that I was on the mighty Mississippi River.
     Mike talked with one of the band members. The man had been to Nanaimo when he was a member of a different band that was touring British Columbia.
     The riverboat docked at 10:00pm and Mike and I started our walk back. We went slowly and Mike had to use his cane. We decided to see the French Quarter at night so we walked to Bourbon Street again. Barricades were at the ends of the street and it was closed to traffic. All the bars and stores were open and people wandered up and down the street talking and laughing. It had the party atmosphere we’d expected to see.
     We turned onto St. Louis Street to continue our way back. It wasn't as well-lit and we were nervous. As we walked we heard steps behind us. We looked back and saw a guy who appeared to be following us. When we got to a corner we walked kitty corner to the other side. Once there we turned and stared back at him. He hesitated on his corner then left.
     As we continued to walk there was another guy behind us. We looked back a couple of times which must have made him nervous or uncomfortable because he changed to the other side of the street to walk. We got back safely just before 11:00. I went across the lot to put in three more dollars which would take us to 9:00am in the morning. There was lots more that we wanted to do like take the swamp tour, go buy my chocolates, and see the river in daylight. The only other vehicle in the lot was the motorhome. At last, a quiet night.

     At about 2:00am a tap, tap, tap woke me up. It wasn’t a knock so I didn't know what it was. Mike came up and I asked him what it was and he said there is a sheriff outside. He got dressed and went out to talk with him. Our girls were on high alert at the tap on the door and when Mike went outside they headed to the windows and tried to look outside. My window was open so I could hear what the sheriff had to say.

     Apparently there had been a break in of a motorhome somewhere in the area and he was wondering if it was us.
     “No, we’re fine,” Mike said.
     “Why are you camping here?”
     “We were told we could by someone at the information center.”
     “This is a bad area and you shouldn’t really be camping here. Criminals will look at your license plate and see that you are from Canada. They know that you won’t be carrying a gun, so you will be an easy target. Last year we had 300 murders in this area and people disappear without a trace.”
      He wondered if we had any protection because we could carry a gun in Louisiana as long as it was not hidden. At one point someone walked by on the street and the sheriff pointed to him and said that was one of the people he was warning us about.
     Once he had delivered his message he and Mike chatted for an hour about fishing, hunting, places for us to eat, and more. He said he wanted to come to Canada someday so Mike opened the outside door and asked me for my business card. Purple and Red both went and sat on the step looking at him. After I'd given him my card I went back to bed.
     As he was leaving the sheriff advised us that maybe we should find a different place to stay. He said that because of all the disasters that have happened in Louisiana over the years there are a lot of homeless people who can't get back on their feet.
     We took his warning to heart. We put Walmart into Lola, picked one and drove to the west end of the city.
     We figured we were pretty lucky. Lola directed us to the visitor centre right beside the French Quarter, the place we wanted to see, the sheriff came along and possibly saved us a lot of hassle or even worse, and then Lola got us to the Walmart to stay for the rest of the night.
     We have a saying that we live by: The Lord looks after kids and idiots and we’re not kids anymore.

Road Tripping USA Part Three by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PEOSJR8

My website: www.joandonaldsonyarmey.com

Author’s Note

I belong to Angels Abreast, a breast cancer survivor dragon boat race team in Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada. Every four years the International Breast Cancer Paddlers Commission IBCPC) holds an international festival somewhere in the world. In the spring of 2013, my team received a notice that the IBCPC had chosen Sarasota, Florida, USA, to hold the next festival in October 2014.

     We decided to attend and while the other members were going to fly down, tour around some of the sites and head home I wanted to see more of the country and meet some of the people. My husband, Mike, and I drove from our small acreage at Port Alberni, British Columbia, on the Pacific Ocean, to Sarasota, Florida on the Atlantic Ocean.
     Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the people I would meet nor the beautiful places I would see nor the adventures I would have on our ten week, 18,758km (11656 mile) journey. On the thirteenth day of every month in 2016 I will post a part of my trip that describes some of the excellent scenery, shows the generosity and friendliness of the people, and explains some of the history of the country. The people of the USA have much to be proud of.

 Road Tripping USA Part Three

We have been to the Great Salt Lake and the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah and the Salt Plains in the Northwest Territories, Canada, so we thought we would look for the crystals that form in the Salt Plains of Oklahoma. The end of the season for digging for crystal was October 15 and it was October 13. We were just under the wire.

     We crossed the Salt Fork of the Arkansas River four times on our way to the Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge near the Salt Plains State Park. The refuge is home to over 300 species of birds and about thirty species of mammals. The plains were formed millions of years ago by repeated flooding of seawater. When the source of the seawater was cut off, the water evaporated and thick layers of salt were left. The water of the Great Salt Plains Lake is about half as salty as the water of the oceans.
     Ground water continues to flow through the salt plains and when it rises to the surface and evaporates it leaves a thin crust of salt. It is a combination of this saline solution and the gypsum in the area that forms the selenite crystal. Selenite is a crystallized form of gypsum and the crystals are usually found just below the crusty surface. The iron oxide in the soil gives these crystals their brownish colour.
     We drove our motorhome to the edge of the salt flats and parked beside a wooden observation tower. There was a sign that told us to dig for crystals only in designated areas.
     The guide at the Alabaster Caves I had visited earlier that day (last month’s installment) had told me that on a sunny day the lake reflects the sun so much that I would have to wear sunglasses and sun screen. Luckily for us it was a cloudy day. Unluckily for us, it was a very windy day. The guide had also said that we really didn’t need a shovel. We could just use the holes dug by other people.
     “Most people find crystals and some of them are fairly big,” she told me.
     The crystals from the Salt Plains are called hour glass crystals. This is the only place in the world where they can be found and it is illegal to sell them. There are various sections that are open to the public on a rotating basis. This gives time for more crystals to form.
     We looked out over the large area of hard salt. There were pilings with ropes between them that looked like they marked the edges of a driveway or walkway. It went a long way out into the salt flat. We knew we had to drive on the marked roadway because in some of the unmarked areas there is only a shallow crust over quicksand.
     We weren’t sure if we should try it. We were the only ones out there. If we went off the track we could get stuck or worse yet, end up in quicksand. It was such a cold, blustery day that we doubted anyone else would come out so we would have to walk to a farm for help and there weren’t many around.
     There were a couple of restrictions. We could only harvest ten pounds (4.5kg) of crystal plus one large cluster in one day. I wasn’t worried about breaking that rule. The second one was that we were not to disturb or destroy nests, eggs, or birds. It was fall so there weren’t any nests or eggs and any birds in the area were smart enough to hide under shelter on this day.
     We decided to walk. Since we didn’t have shovels I rummaged through our drawers and cupboards. I came up with one metal and one plastic plate to use as a scoops, a large soup ladle, a soup spoon, and a metal measuring cup. We walked out onto the salt with my paraphernalia. The wind was strong and it pelted us with salt, whipped at our clothes and our hair, and blew us sideways. We had a hard time moving. There was no way we could walk to the end of the driveway where the crystals were. I tried digging in some places beside the posts. The salt was too hard to make much of a hole. We picked up a few small rocks, or maybe they were miniature crystals, and headed to our motorhome.
     We had just put everything away when a man in a four wheel drive pick-up truck drove past us and out onto the flats. We watched him go to the end and back. As he pulled up beside us he stopped and rolled down his window.
     “Did you go out?” he asked.
     “No,” Mike said. “We weren’t sure if the salt would support our motorhome.”
     “It’s fairly firm. I went to check on it because my daughter is bringing a class of high school students tomorrow in a school bus. You probably wouldn’t have any problems with your motorhome.”
     But our time had passed and we were leaving.
     When we arrived at Fort Gibson, Oklahoma, there was a sign on the lawn stating the fort was being renovated and we could visit for free. We walked into the bakery and looked at the huge stone and brick oven. The magazine building held boxes of ammunition. In the Commissary a video was shown giving some information about the history of the fort and then a man dressed in a union uniform gave a talk about the civil war.
     Fort Gibson was founded in 1824 and a town was established nearby soon after. The fort was abandoned in 1857 but reoccupied during the civil war. The army again abandoned the fort in 1890 and the town relocated to higher ground in 1900. The town is one of the oldest non-native settlements in Oklahoma. It was the first community in the state to have telephone service, a drama theater, a steamboat landing, and a school for the blind.
     When we were there, the stockade and barracks were closed to visitors because of the renovations to the log buildings. As much of the original material as possible was being used. We drove to them and from the road did see some of the log buildings with their huge brick fireplaces.
     We crossed into Arkansas and reached Board Camp where we saw a sign for Board Camp Campground and Crystal Mine. With the poor luck we’d had at the salt plains, we stopped in and talked with the owner, Cheryl. She gave us the choice of going into the field and digging our own or buying some already dug. We weren’t interested in digging so we looked at the large rock-encrusted raw crystals in the yard. Then we went into the store and browsed the crystals that they had cleaned up (removed the rock from around them), the crystal jewellery, and pails of raw crystals still in rock.
     “I’m open to any type of bartering,” Cheryl said. “Nothing has a fixed price.”
     “Joan is a mystery writer,” Mike said. “Would you be interested in some books?”
     “Sure, I like reading.”
     I went to the motorhome and brought back my set of mystery novels. I traded them and $20.00 for a 2.5 gallon pail of rock and crystals.
     “Where are you from and where are you going?” Cheryl asked.
     “We’re from Vancouver Island and we’re on our way to an international breast cancer dragon boat festival in Sarasota,” I told her.
     When she asked for an explanation I told her the story of how dragon boating was a great exercise for women after breast cancer surgery.
     “I had a friend who died from cancer not long ago,” Cheryl said. “She fought hard but didn’t make it.”
     By the time we left we were new friends and the next time I went on the Internet I friended her on Facebook.
     We stopped at a Flea Market and bought two folding shovels then continued to the Crater of Diamonds State Park.  After dumping the crystals from the pail into a box, we grabbed our shovels and gloves, and headed out to find a huge diamond. We paid our entrance fee, received some papers on what to watch for, and walked out of the building to survey the field. Someone turned the soil over every couple of weeks with a breaking plow so the land had long furrows with dips between. We were told to look for anything shiny. We walked to one of the furrows and began digging. I quickly found two shinies and showed them to Mike. He told me one was mica and the other quartz and he broke both of them. So I quit showing him my shinies.
     There was constant movement in the field. People carried pails, shovels, rakes, and hoes, and pulled wagons on their way to find a lucky spot. Others walked up and down the rows scanning the ground.
     We spent about two hours digging and searching before calling it a day. Mike stopped to talk with a woman who had found a diamond the day before. She showed him the gem and the certificate she had received. She said she had just been walking and watching the ground. Anyone who finds a diamond can take it to the shop where the staff will grade it for carats and give out a certificate.
     I spoke with a couple who said a woman had found a diamond that morning but somehow on her way to the building to get it looked at, she had lost it. She retraced her steps but never did find it.
     A man named John Huddleston owned this property in the early 1900s and found the first diamond in 1906. He eventually sold the land and, as it changed hands over the years, there were unsuccessful attempts to make it into a commercial mine. In 1972, the State bought the site and developed it into a 911 acre state park along the Little Missouri River. Thirty-seven of those acres make up the Crater of Diamonds.
     It is believed these diamonds were formed millions of years ago and were spewed out to fall to the earth during a volcanic eruption. There are about 700 diamonds found each year and over 28,000 have been found since 1972. It is the only such site open to the public in North America and is thought to be the eighth largest diamond reserve in the world.

Road Tripping USA Part Two by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B017LJOL2K/ref=cm_sw_su_dp

my website: www.joandonaldsonyarmey.com

Author’s Note

I belong to Angels Abreast, a breast cancer survivor dragon boat race team in Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada. Every four years the International Breast Cancer Paddlers Commission IBCPC) holds an international festival somewhere in the world. In the spring of 2013, my team received a notice that the IBCPC had chosen Sarasota, Florida, USA, to hold the next festival in October 2014.

     We decided to attend and while the other members were going to fly down, tour around some of the sites and head home I wanted to see more of the country and meet some of the people. My husband, Mike, and I drove from our small acreage at Port Alberni, British Columbia, on the Pacific Ocean, to Sarasota, Florida on the Atlantic Ocean.
     Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the people I would meet nor the beautiful places I would see nor the adventures I would have on our ten week, 18,758km (11656 mile) journey. On the thirteenth day of every month in 2016 I will post a part of my trip that describes some of the excellent scenery, shows the generosity and friendliness of the people, and explains some of the history of the country. The people of the USA have much to be proud of.

 Road Tripping USA Part Two

After leaving Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Monument, Colorado, we went to Mesa Verda (Spanish for ‘green table’) National Park. We stopped in at the information center, picked up booklets and maps of the area, and began our tour. We drove to the Montezuma, Park Point, and Geologic Overlooks where we had panoramic views of the area. Mike parked at the museum and I took the Spruce House trail. I lost 100ft (30 m) in elevation as I descended on the paved switchbacks for a quarter mile. There were interpretive signs along the trail about the flora in the area.

     The construction of Spruce Tree House began by the ancient Pueblo people, sometimes called Anasazi, around the year 1200. It had about 120 rooms and housed 60 to 90 residents. Spruce Tree House was the first site excavated in 1908. It has been rebuilt using as much of the original material as possible and is considered the best preserved dwelling in Mesa Verda National Park.
     The word kiva comes from the Hopi language and refers to a round chamber in or near the village that may have been used for social and religious purposes. It was like a basement or underground dwelling. There were eight kivas on the original Spruce Tree House site and one has been rebuilt for the public to visit. I climbed down a ladder into the large, round, empty room. The only light was from the hole above. It made me shiver to think I was in a place that had been built more than one thousand years ago.
     There are more than 600 cliff dwellings within the park. Most of them were constructed between the 1190s and the 1270s and were abandoned by about 1300. The houses were built in shallow caves and under rock overhangs. They were made of hard sandstone blocks held together with adobe mortar. The Anasazi were famous for their pottery and basket weaving.
     When I walked back up the trail, I found myself out of breath. It bothered me because I liked to consider myself in good shape. Then I realized why. I live at sea level and I was about 7000ft (2133m) above sea level where the air is lighter.
     We drove to Cliff Palace which, along with Balcony House and Long House, is a ranger guided tour. I took the 250ft (76m) walk to the overlook and gazed down at the cliff dwelling. There is a sign that states the site was found by two men in 1888 and there is a picture of it in 1891 showing the rubble and the deterioration. Over the years it has been partially restored.
     After a couple more lookouts we headed downhill to the highway through some lovely scenery. We could see into the gorge and had beautiful views of a valley below.
     A sign welcomed us to New Mexico, Land of Enchantment. The scenery was beautiful sandstone rock cliffs on right and a valley on the left. As we neared Aztec there were a lot of farms and some residences.
     In Aztec we stopped at the visitor’s centre and got information about the area. I was given directions to the Aztec ruins and also how to go to the Aztec Arches. As I was leaving the woman gave me a warning.
     “It’s very dry here and you have to make sure you keep hydrated by drinking lots of water. You don’t sweat but you lose a lot of moisture from your body.”
     Mike parked at the ruins but his back was sore and he wanted to relax so I went alone. When I paid at the gift shop/museum I was given the option of borrowing a booklet that would explain the ruins or buying one. I bought one as a souvenir. The day was overcast with some sunshine as I started out and I could see heavy black clouds in the distance.
     The ancestors of the American Indian, also called ‘ancestral Puebloan people’ lived here from the late 1000s to the late 1200s. The Aztec Ruins National Monument was established in 1923 and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. However, the Aztec people never lived there. The term Aztec was given to many ancient sites by the early Spanish explorers.
     Some of the site has been restored, some of it has remained in its ruin condition. I used the booklet as a guide to view the Kiva, the inner rooms, and the doorways set in the corners of some rooms. Going from room to room, I had to duck to get through the doorways. In those rooms 900 year old timbers still support the ceiling or roof.
     There are a number of Aztec Arches and we found a few close to town. The roads were sandy and wet and the black clouds were still in the distance. However, the sun shone overhead. We took the Potter Canyon tour and saw the Outcrop, a hole between two outcrops of sandstone. I hiked to the Pillar, where a hole has been formed in the middle of a tall sandstone rock. Plus, we wandered between high sandstone walls and climbed into sandstone canyons. These arches are hundreds of thousands years old and have been formed by the erosion of the sandstone.
     We passed through Dulce and at the far end of town the Jacarilla Apache native band of Dulce, New Mexico, was putting on a little market alongside the road. There were open-sided tents with food, jewellery, and jelly for sale. We pulled over and walked through the site. Many of the vendors were selling fry bread which we had never tried. We went to one of the tents and placed an order. We talked with the mother and son while she deep fried the dough. They explained how the food was made.
     As we ate the fry bread Mike told them about our trip and why we were headed to Sarasota. The son had heard of dragon boating and knew what we were talking about. We also bought a small loaf of their regular bread and some apple pie. Their pieces of pie however were not like the triangle shaped ones I am used to. It looked like they made them in square pans then cut them into squares.
     We walked to another tent and Mike bought a tamale. We carried our goodies to the camper where Mike ate the tamale and I tried the pie. I wanted to see some more so we went to a table where there were jars of jelly. I was wearing a black baseball cap with a pink ribbon, the sign of breast cancer, on it.
     “I like your hat,” the woman at the table said.
     “Thank you,” I said.
     “I’m a five year survivor,” she said.
     “I’m thirteen years.” I then explained that I belonged to a breast cancer survivor dragon boat team and I was headed to an international festival in Florida. She had never heard of dragon boating so I gave her a quick overview of the hundreds of breast cancer survivor teams and the thousands of regular teams that there are around the world and what attending a festival is like. I mentioned that she could form a team.
     "I don't think there are enough women here to start a team," she said.
     I wrote down her email address and said I would sent her info on it next time I was on the Internet.
     I bought a jar of her homemade chokecherry jelly which was very good.
     Just before the town of Questa we turned to go to the Rio Grande Gorge and reached the Rio Grande Del Norte National Monument. Seventy-four miles of the Rio Grande are within this monument. At the Sheep Crossing overlook there was a sign stating: Vertical Cliffs Along Rim. Keep a Safe Distance.
     The Rio Grande Gorge Chiflo Trail is 7538ft (2298m) above sea level. There is a 0.4 mile trail down to the river with an elevation change of 320ft (97m). The trail difficulty was easy. The canyon walls have gray, sandy and red rock throughout it. In places, this gorge can be up to 800ft (244m) deep.
     We met a couple of men from Texas who had come to fish for brown trout. They started down the trail but one guy’s knees began to bother him so they came back up. They decided to head to a different spot where the climb wasn’t so steep. I went down the sometimes rock, sometimes dirt trail. As I walked I watched for snakes which make this area their home. I didn’t go all the way but reached a place where I had a great view of the river and was able to take pictures of the river and the canyon.

In Oklahoma, we were on our way to the Alabaster Caves. We drove through the tall banks of reddish rock along the Cimarron River then climbed out of the river valley and into grasslands and farmland. When we turned onto Highway 508 we were on the Great Plains Trail of Oklahoma.

     I was the only customer for their first tour. The temperature of the caves is about 50F (10C). I wore a light jacket and the guide was in shirt sleeves.
     “The caves are the largest alabaster or gypsum caverns in the world that offers tours to the public,” the guide told me as we entered them. “They are about three times as long as the three-quarters of a mile that you will be shown.”
     The floor was slippery because of the humidity. There were lights in the cavern but only in sections. As we left one part the guide pushed a button to turn on the lights ahead and shut off the ones behind us.    
     We chatted as we walked. She asked me what I did because I had told her I had taken three months off work.
     “I work twenty hours a week in a group home looking after mentally and physically challenged people,” I said. “But I really envy you your job. I would enjoy a job like this.”
     “Well, I’m hiring part time,” she said.
     “Would you hire a Canadian?”
     “Why not?
     So I could have stayed if I wanted.
     In one spot of the cave there is algae growing so it has turned the rock turquois/green. It is very pretty. She showed me where names and dates have been carved in the rock. One was from 1920, another from 1922.
     Five of the twenty-four different species of bats in Oklahoma live in the caves. I could hear some of them flying as we went further and a few flew around as we walked. They didn’t bother us, didn’t even seem to mind that we were in their space. One of the bats species, the Mexican Free-Tailed Bat calls Mexico home during the winter and comes to the caves in the spring to bear their young.
     The guide told me the story about a school group that was on a trip through the caves many years ago. Four boys snuck off from the group and started exploring on their own. They crawled up and into one area where they claimed they found a saddle, a knife and a skeleton. However, in the decades since no one has found that part of the cave to confirm their story.
     There is one section of the cave that is called The Dagger Cave because it is shaped like a dagger. At one time during the Cold War the Alabaster Caverns was considered a place to hide in case of attack. The local residents kept barrels of water and some food stored in it.