United States of America
While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer.
God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home
Watch, Listen, Remember
St. Johns Rivership Co.
433 N Palmetto Ave, Sanford, FL 32771
GPS: 28.815429o, -081.265673o
Sanford, Florida lies on the I-4 corridor between Orlando and Daytona Beach. Sanford occupies the southern shore of Lake Monroe. Lake Monroe is a major body of water on the St Johns River.
Lake Monroe and Sanford, FL
Today we enjoyed a lunch cruise on Lake Monroe in the paddle-wheel riverboat "Barbara-Lee." One of Michelle's social clubs (The Mad Hatters) sponsors day trips to interesting locations in central Florida and today was the event for March.
The Barbara-Lee
Sunny and cool with a stiff breeze was our weather today. Perfect for a riverboat cruise. Intended as a day of sociability, I had two other goals for my day.
First was to get some material to kick this blog back to life. Not traveling for over a year has caused 'Follow The Cougar' to languish. Michelle, I, and the Cougar have all spent too much time in the sick bay. With our summer 2017 'Great River Road' trip approaching, it's time to reclaim my little corner of cyberspace and breathe life back into this blog. What better source of material than a riverboat cruise?
Second, again motivated by our planned 2017 summer adventure, I recently purchased a new camera. Today would be a good practice session. Reluctant to get back into photography, I have been using the camera on my smartphone for the past few years. Postprocessing those pictures for use in my blog, magazine articles, and short stories, revealed many shortcomings. So I bit the bullet and bought a Canon Powershot G9X. Now I have to learn to use it. The User Manual is 261 pages. Camera technology certainly has changed. The picture possibilities are awesome, but the learning curve is steep.
The Barbara-Lee is a paddle-wheel riverboat berthed at the foot of Palmetto Ave in Sanford, FL. It belongs to St. Johns Rivership Co., a family owned business providing lunch, dinner, and evening cruises on Lake Monroe.
The paddle-wheel is real, not just for show, and actually drives the boat.
After boarding and getting situated, we went through the obligatory life jacket drill. No lifeboats, however. If this boat sinks, the instructions are to get out and walk. The Barbara-Lee draws three feet of water, and Lake Monroe is five feet deep. We couldn't even tell if the boat sank.
Our cruise was a lunch cruise, but it started with a snack. I guess it was supposed to be 'Brunch' and Barbara- Lee is famous for her sticky buns. The reputation is well-deserved.
Barbara- Lee's Famous Sticky Buns
Before and during Brunch was social time.
Then they hustled us out onto the deck so they could set up for lunch. Just in time to witness our passing under Interstate Route 4.
Everyone enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine.
Time to enjoy fresh air, sociability, and picture taking.
When they called us in for lunch, I noticed this little trinket which I'm sure is intended for the raucus crowd on the dinner cruise, not for a sedate group like us.
I don't know how they can afford to sponsor such a good deal.
I didn't take pictures during lunch. First, because I didn't want to interrupt my eating, and second I didn't think it polite to show all our friends stuffing their faces. So I'll just show you the menu and let you imagine the aromas and tastes that we enjoyed.
During lunch, we turned around and headed home. Downstream and downwind made this part of the trip much faster, but we did have time for more sightseeing from the top deck.
I have been on many boats – different sizes in different waters. I am always impressed with the skill shown by a captain when parking a boat. He/she has a very high and hard curb to work against, usually wind to contend with, and maybe a current or tide complicating his life. In this case, the boat was propelled by a paddle-wheel, not a propeller, making steering in close quarters nigh impossible. He successfully executed without breaking a sweat. Well done, Captain.
Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon. We'll have to do this again sometime.
Titusville, FL
The Cougar has been gone for quite a while, having the damage from our accident last November repaired. Recall our adventure where we went from this ...
... to this
While it was gone we had the garage floor redone so the parking space would befit the new face to be parked there.
Refinished Garage Floor
Welcome Home
Eagle's Pride did a beautiful job repairing our mess – both outside and inside. Eagle's Pride is our own RV Sales, Parts, and Service facility here in The Great Outdoors RV Resort
Outside looks brand new
Inside too
The front cap had been showing its age and wear and tear, so we had it repainted and new decals put on. The original decals were unavailable, so they went to other available decals and it looks just fine.
I'm happy to have the Cougar back. I think I hear her purring. Oh no, that's me.
We are excited to get summer 2017 underway – The Great River Road. My "Hitch Itch" needs scratchin'
This post is the result of a request. Shown below are the three possible ways to follow the blog. You can choose any one, two, or all three if you like.
Titusville, FL
I too have stressed over recent events in our national political scene. But this morning, this guy stopped in my tree and assured me we will be OK.
Thanks. I needed that.
I hesitated writing this post because my blog is supposed to be about our adventures in the Cougar, not other stuff.
But the cougar is in its den for much longer than I desire because CABG has entered my life.
When I woke up on 12 Feb 2016, Michelle and our daughter Tricia who came from North Carolina to be with Michelle during this adventure were waiting for me. They looked like they had been dragged through a wringer; I'm sure I looked much worse. I had just emerged from Triple Coronary Artery Bypass Grafting (CABG). CABG is a type of surgery. A vein from my leg was used to bypass the three blocked coronary arteries and improve blood flow to my heart.
After returning from our Christmas visit to Denver, I underwent a series of tests, over a period of several weeks, looking for an explanation for several episodes of dizziness I had experienced. The last test was a heart catheterization that revealed I should be dead (I exaggerate – just a little). Then things moved very fast. The cardiologist contacted a surgeon who rearranged his schedule for the next day, and suddenly I was in the hospital. I interviewed this surgeon for about ten minutes, found out he is a Drexel University grad (my alma mater) and decided to let him cut my chest open. How's that for rigorous comparison shopping?
What followed was five days in the hospital, two weeks in a rehabilitation hospital, then home rehabilitation with a visiting nurse and a visiting physical therapist. All of this for surgery healing rehabilitation.
I got to be best friends with my little heart pillow
I learned a lot about and practiced "Sternum Precautions." Those are behavior modifications necessary while the chest bone, which has been wired back together, heals. Everything from sitting down and getting up from a chair to dressing and undressing – all designed to avoid stretching the wires holding the sternum together. Wrapping my arms around my heart pillow whenever I coughed, sneezed, got up, or sat down both protected my chest and kept my arms occupied so I couldn't use them to push, pull, or lift.
My care at the hospital (Holmes Regional Medical Center, Melbourne, FL) and the rehab center (Sea Pines Rehabilitation Hospital) was excellent. I can't thank those folks enough.
Holmes Regional Medical Center, Melbourne, FL
The staff at Holmes had me up and walking the day after surgery. Otherwise, it was like any other hospital stay – a hospital gown that destroys all modesty; needles, pills, and vital signs every two hours 24/7; trying to pee lying down in bed; and meals made tasteless by anasthesia residue.
Sea Pines Rehabilitation Hospital, Melbourne, FL
My time at Sea Pines was better, probably because I was better. I had physical therapy twice a day (two, one hour sessions) where I exercised to protect muscle tone while not endangering the chest incision. I also had one hour per day of occupational therapy where I learned and practiced all the sternum precautions necessary to get through my healing period without damaging the chest repair work – much more to that than you might imagine. They have a practice bathroom and toward the end, I practiced getting into and out of my truck without using my arms. Boy, was that fun. Although I was up and about and had my laptop with me, for the most part, I could not get motivated to do anything. So what I was counting on for boredom relief didn't work. Reading helped a little.
I came home on 02 March – day 19 and was put under the supervision of a Visiting Nurse and Physical Therapist, who each came twice a week. I also had a remote unit for reading Blood Oxygen, Blood Pressure, and Weight. So every morning I had to sit down with this thing and go through a ritual of collecting data and transmitting it to a data center, who in turn transmitted to my doctor. Each session included a lecture on some phase of cardiac healthcare taught by the same lovely lady who inhabits your GPS and gives you verbal instructions on how to get lost on the highway. During this period, I slept in a recliner. Medication forced several trips to the bathroom during the night and getting in and out of bed was just too much work. I was still restricted to sleeping on my back. That was much easier to do in the recliner.
The surgeon released me on 09 March – day 26. That was a major victory for me because I was cleared to sleep on my side and no longer restricted to sleeping on my back.
Able to concentrate more, I got back to work on my new website. That is now up and running, but there is still a lot of work to do on it. You can see it at http://www.placesoffthemap.com.
We also have a subscription to Netflix, and we have been binge-watching "House of Cards". It took several evenings to get through season 1. That is where we are now. We'll start with season 2 soon.
Next week I go back under the care of the cardiologist for a program of heart rehabilitation. I don't know how long it will last, but I do know we will not be roaming the country this summer.
Through it all, my dear wife Michelle has borne the burden of being nurse, pharmacist, appointment scheduler, and overall patient guardian – traveling over 90 miles each day to do it. For that, she has my everlasting gratitude.
Another side of this situation is that the spring break visit by our grandson Joshua has to be postponed until summer. There is no way that Gramps is going to be able to navigate Disney World in March of 2016. We're rolling that back to June. That gave Michelle a big task of replanning and reticketing. I don't think we lost any money, but it was still a lot of work. I know Joshua is disappointed, and so are we. We are looking forward to his visit, and we'll try to make it an extra special adventure for him.
The bottom line is that I am doing well having finished surgery rehab and getting ready to start cardiac rehab. For excitement, I think I'll do our income taxes.
Highlands Ranch, CO
Belt or Suspenders? Age old question. My answer is "both". Not at the same time, of course. I wear a belt with dress and casual pants, and I almost always wear suspenders with work jeans. They give me more freedom of movement and help avoid "plumber's butt".
During our Christmas visit with my son and his family, my youngest grandson Ben (oops, not anymore, he now has a younger brother, Daniel, age eight weeks) became fascinated with my suspenders that he called overalls. We had a discussion about the difference between suspenders, overalls, and coveralls. Having gotten that straight, Ben protested vehemently that he would NEVER wear suspenders!!! This protest repeated several times over the next few days. Finally, the challenge was on; "Me thinks thou dost protest too much". I got together with his two older brothers, and we hatched a plan. I would buy suspenders for all of them and then we would all wear them to church on Sunday. We would shame Ben into wearing them.
Shopping for boy's suspenders on the Saturday after a Friday New Year's Day was an unintended adventure. All the usual places had them available on–line, not so in the stores. At Wal–Mart, Target, JCPenney; the clerks looked at me like I was crazy. At Wal–Mart, I checked out adult suspenders, hoping they might be adjusted small enough to fit the boys. That idea didn't work.
I was being drawn in a direction I didn't want to go ... a shopping mall. I hate them and everything they represent, but occasionally a man must rise above his principles. Today was that kind of day. I soon found myself in Park Meadows Center, an upscale mall with all the overpriced department stores packed with their kind of people (those who pay extra to get torn jeans). I struck out at the anchor stores: Macy's, Nordstrom, Dillards. However a clerk at Macy's suggested I try the kid's store "Janie and Jack". I never heard of it but that means nothing. Of course, it was at the far end of the mall, and I was already a million miles away from my car. But this had become a quest, and I refused to quit.
At Janie and Jack, my query was rewarded with "Yes, what size?". What size??? Suspenders don't have sizes; they are adjustable! I was so happy to hear yes, I didn't care about the rest. So I bought one size 8-10, and two size 6-8.
I followed my trail of breadcrumbs back to my car and headed home. By now it was almost dark and my quick errand had turned into a full afternoon shopping expedition. When I got home, Ben was still away at a friend's house, but Andrew and Josh were home and eager to get on with this game. They had fun trying on their suspenders while waiting for Ben to return.
Ben was surprised and disappointed that I had gotten the suspenders. He thought I was joking. Protesting resumed but this time his brothers were wearing their suspenders and got all over him about being a wuss.
This morning we all got dressed for church wearing our suspenders. Sunday church dress is pretty casual here. I only had the one pair I brought from home. Adam wore a good looking pair that have been decorating the back of his dresser drawer for several years. Andrew and Joshua looked great in their new suspenders. So did Ben, but he fussed a lot.
The boys got the best of me, however. They attend Sunday school classes and do not accompany adults to church service. Being out of sight and out of reach, they just kept their jackets on.
Gramps, Joshua, Andrew, Ben, Adam
So here is the question. Why are suspenders plural?
Obviously not from me. This morning I fired up my computer to check my email. On Google's Home Page (in small print) was a note that the 2015 Breakthrough Prize Ceremony is tonight at 10 PM EST on the NatGeo channel. "What is this?" "Where Have I Been?"
THE BREAKTHROUGH PRIZES
The prizes were founded by Sergey Brin and Anne Wojcicki, Mark Zuckerberg and Priscilla Chan+here, Yuri and Julia Milner, Jack Ma, and Cathy Zhang. Committees of previous laureates choose the winners from candidates nominated in a process that’s online and open to the public.
Laureates receive $3 million each in prize money and a Trophy. Multiple winners are possible and the prize money is NOT split. Every winner gets a full $3 million.They attend a televised award ceremony designed to celebrate their achievements and inspire the next generation of scientists. As part of the ceremony schedule, they also engage in a program of lectures and discussions. Those that go on to make fresh discoveries remain eligible for future Breakthrough Prizes.
QUICK HISTORY
31 July 2012: The Milner Foundation launches the Fundamental Physics Prize
20 Feb 2013: Art Levinson, Sergey Brin, Anne Wojcicki, Mark Zuckerberg, Priscilla Chan and Yuri Milner launch the Breakthrough Prize in Life Sciences
Dec 2013: The Breakthrough Prize Foundation launches the Breakthrough Prize in Mathematics
WHY
Knowledge is humanity’s greatest asset. It defines our nature, and it will shape our future.
The body of knowledge is assembled over centuries. Yet a single mind can extend it immensely. Einstein reimagined space and time. Darwin distilled the chaos of life to a single idea. Turing figured out what it means to think.
Great scientists enrich us all. They enable technologies that ease our lives, but they also show us what’s beyond our horizons.
Science is revealing worlds far beyond the everyday scale, from the subatomic and cellular to the stellar and galactic. Increasingly we can think at these levels and trace the connections between them. And as we do, we are making progress on the truly big questions.
The disciplines that ask the biggest questions and find the deepest explanations are the fundamental sciences. The Breakthrough Prizes honor important, primarily recent, achievements in the categories of Fundamental Physics, Life Sciences, and Mathematics.
TROPHY
The Breakthrough Prize trophy was created by Olafur Eliasson. Like much of Eliasson's work, the sculpture explores the common ground between art and science.
molded into the shape of a toroid, it recalls natural forms found
from black holes and galaxies to seashells and coils of DNA
Good news: I learned something wonderful today.
Bad news: We only have basic cable so I don't get NatGeo. Now that's dumb.
Grand Canyon National Park, AZ
A while back, I did a post titled Cloudburst. The photo in that post didn't even come close to capturing the grandeur of a cloudburst over the Grand Canyon. Photographer Amit Lamba came much closer.
On 29 Sep, the US National Park Service published the winners of their 5th Annual National Parks Photo Contest. A Storm Is Coming by Amit Lambda won first prize. Amit won a Tamron SP 150-600mm Di VC USD Lens (for Canon, Nikon and Sony Full-Frame and APS-C DSLR cameras; $1069 value)
"A Storm is Coming!" by photographer Amit Lambda
That is some place; that is some storm; that is some picture. Wow!
I try to keep politics out of this blog and, for the most part, keep my political opinions to myself. But I can't believe any American, liberal or conservative, should tolerate the financial irresponsibility practiced by the Congress of the United States year after year.
The "Continuing Resolution" is the vehicle to keep from shutting down the government while Congress fails to act. While the government does not shut down, it must perform foolish and expensive actions to continue to operate without proper spending authority.
My experience is in the Defense Department, but I'm sure it is similar in other departments. Here is a simplified example.
Based on Congressional approval, as a government contracting officer, I have signed a contract with ABC Airplane Company to develop, build, and deliver 150 F-XX fighter aircraft. The contract is laid out to run for ten years with payments to be made monthly based on invoices presented to the US Treasury Dept. Congress has approved this program and I am obligated to execute it. Now Congress decides to give me only enough money to operate for a week. When ABC Airplane Company presents invoices to the Treasury for a month's worth of work, the Treasury can only pay for one week.
Here is an even simpler hypothetical: "You are directed to operate your household on a monthly basis and to buy groceries accordingly in the most efficient manner possible." My job is to provide the funds for you to do so. Oh, by the way, I'm only going to give you enough money for one week.
This absurdity happens every year in every government department. Once during my time in the Air Force, it got so bad they moved the fiscal year start from 01 July to 01 Oct to try to recover.
Unfortunately, CRs aren’t uncommon. The last time Congress passed all of its annual appropriations bills in time was almost 20 years ago with the FY 1997 budget. CRs can last for as little as a day or as long as an entire fiscal year. Deputy Defense Secretary Bob Work recently lamented, “There is no organization on this earth that would be able to remain in business, operating under these conditions.”
Read this article. If you are one who communicates with your elected official, please ask him/her to earn their pay by doing their job. That would be refreshing.
Strategic Air Command Museum
28210 W. Park Hwy
Ashland, NE 68003
GPS: 41.015450, -96.318925
Two items I saw that are worth reflection on 9/11. I have reproduced the words in case the pictures are not readable.
We must never forget that freedom is never really free.
It is the most costly thing in the world.
Freedom is never paid in a lump sum.
Installments come due in every generation.
All any of us can do is offer the generations that follow a chance for freedom.
The War on Terror ...
REMBERING OUR FALLEN
The warriors of the 21st Century, professionals who volunteered to join the United States Armed Forces, grew up in the shadow of September 11, 2001, a defining moment for most of them. They come from all walks of life and every corner of our country, daring to go where so many never would. They retain the face of freedom and build upon the legacies of those who went before them in a cause greater than themselves.
We cannot all pick up the sword -- nor should we -- but we owe our support and gratitude to those who do, and to their families. Each Fallen Hero, shown here, left behind family and friends who will never forget them and we must be there to support them. Remember their loved ones, continue to pray for them and speak their names ... most importantly, speak their names.
Relish the freedom consecrated by that last full measure of devotion and paid for, on your behalf, by these Heroes and their Fallen Comrades.
STAND DOWN YOUNG WARRIOR
YOUR MISSION IS COMPLETE
Written and published by The Omaha World Herald
In my later years, after too many in a suit with a mortgage, I became a full-time RVer. I love it; I wish I had started thirty years earlier; I wish I could do it forever; I hope to be doing it on the day I die. I used to hate Sunday afternoon because of impending Monday morning. No more. Between now and the end of my days, the romance of the open road is real for me and I face every day with eager anticipation. This RV life excites all five senses every day.
When traveling, the ever changing view through my windshield exhilarates me – mountains, valleys, plains, rivers; summer, autumn, winter, spring; awesome sunrises, spectacular sunsets. When parked, new places intrigue me – old forts, lighthouses, museums, ghost towns, truck stops, small town diners, backwoods campgrounds, even the couple in the next campsite. Wherever I am, I love the scene that greets me every morning when I open my door.
Pulling on an old shirt, jeans, and boots to head out for a day to be spent my way is both comforting and exciting. I never use a watch and seldom a calendar. What time I go out doesn't matter; what time I come home matters even less. Like everyone, my life was a mixture of success and failure, hits and misses, good decisions and bad. My age and my RV lifestyle comfort me with the thought that none of that matters now – and in reality never did.
Fresh coffee brewing over a campfire, campfire smoke, diesel fumes at a busy truck stop, the smell of horses and cows on a ranch, the smell of the ocean or a mountain pine forest all tickle my nose and make me feel good inside. The smell of ozone in the air after an afternoon cloudburst on the eastern side of a mountain range somewhere makes the world smell clean.
God's greatest creation was bourbon in a tin cup. I usually sip that quietly at sunset in a nice place. Close behind is freshly brewed coffee in the morning. But I also love lobster and clams at a New England Lobster Pound and Tex–Mex in a border town on the Rio Grande. Then there is the home cooked special at a little non–descript Momma's restaurant along some back road in the middle of nowhere that turns out to be a meal I'll never forget.
The purr of diesel engines in a truck stop; the night sounds in a campground; birds in the morning; screaming tires on the highway; the bugling of an elk on a frosty autumn morning are all part of my world. But the best sound of all is the clang of my fifth – wheel hitch slamming shut signaling the start a new adventure.
I'm sure glad God gave me five senses so I wouldn't miss any of it.
Highlands Ranch, CO
Most of us have heard or read the poem High Flight composed in August 1941 by Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee, Jr., an American serving with the Royal Canadian Air Force. He died in a mid-air collision over Lincolnshire in December 1941.
I have read it many times but recently the words struck a new chord and called to mind new pictures. Enjoy.
"Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds -
and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of -
wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
Hovering there I've chased the shouting wind along
and flung my eager craft through footless halls of air.
"Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
and, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
the high untrespassed sanctity of space,
put out my hand and touched the face of God."
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth ...
... and touched the face of God
Truth or Consequences, NM
You can see things out west that you can't see back east. Growing up in an eastern city in the 40s and 50s, I imagined a lot about the west. Sometimes my imagination was helped by music.
Ferde Grofé (27 March 1892 – 3 April 1972) was a 20th century American composer, arranger, and pianist whose primary works were musical pictures of places in the US. Grofé is best known for his composition The Grand Canyon Suite (1931), a work regarded highly enough to be recorded for RCA Victor with the NBC Symphony conducted by Arturo Toscanini in Carnegie Hall in 1945. The movements of the suite are: I. Sunrise; II. Painted Desert; III. On the Trail; IV. Sunset; V. Cloudburst.
The best known movement was 'On The Trail' portraying the donkey ride down to the bottom of the canyon. Everyone knows that tune, even if they don't know where it came from. 'Cloudburst' vividly pictures the fury of nature in a summer thunderstorm over the Grand Canyon.
Years ago, the music helped me imagine the scene. Today the scene brought back the music. Life is good.
Geronimo Trail, NM
Our habit when traveling is to pick up every piece of travel literature we touch, then sort it out back at the Cougar. Early in our time at Chloride, I grabbed the booklet Day Trips Along the Geronimo Trail – A Guide to the Scenic Byways of Sierra County, New Mexico. Filled with pictures and historic documentation, it triggered our desire to explore the area. So we used it as a planning tool for the sightseeing adventure we took today.
The Geronimo Trail National Scenic Byway
As you can see on the map, The Geronimo Trail National Scenic Byway runs from Beaverhead in the northwest to San Lorenzo in the southwest and includes (almost) our location in Chloride. While we didn't get on the heavy green line, Chloride did get prominent coverage in the booklet.
For today, we chose to do the southern leg of the trail. So we started at Exit 63 of I-25 where we picked up Hwy 152 west.
Hillsboro, NM
Hillsboro was the first town along this leg of The Geronimo Trail National Scenic Byway. Hillsboro dates back to 1877 when gold was discovered in nearby mountains along Percha Creek. The town had its ups and downs and is now a small community of artists, ranchers, and retirees. "Main Street has a variety of shops, art galleries, and restaurants" says the tourism literature. Maybe so but today everything except one café was closed. We stopped there for a muffin and a cup of coffee.
A group of bikers thought the café was a good place for a pit stop
A number of our visitors at Chloride say they are from Hillsboro. I guess I expected a little more.
Hillsboro Mental Health Clinic
Kingston, NM
A small sign and an unimpressive turn off highway 152 put us in Kingston. By quickly applying the brakes, we managed to stop before running through the whole town. The history of this region of New Mexico is all related to mining. Kingston is no exception. It was founded in 1882 as the result of a rich gold strike. Dubbed "one of the west's wildest mining camps", in it's heyday, it boasted 7,000 people, 22 saloons, 14 stores, three newspapers, numerous hotels and boarding houses, and an Opera House. Today the Percha Bank Building is the only fully intact original structure in town. It houses the Percha Bank Museum (open by appointment).
I did get this picture of an interesting fence. Someone must have had a tree that could not be made into anything else and a sawmill that needed some exercise.
While Hillsboro and Kingston were disappointing, the spectacular views in the Gila National Forest were not – especially these two shots in Emory Pass. I'm reminded of the futility of trying to take a picture of the Grand Canyon. A camera cannot capture the scope of the scene. So it is here. Maybe the picture will give a hint.
Emory Pass Overlook #1 N32.895638o, W107.729878o Elevation: 7,224 ft
Emory Pass Overlook #2 N32.906153o, W107.766520o Elevation: 8,090 ft
Here are a few more pictures of the mountains along Hwy 152.
Winding our way down out of the Black Range mountains, we reached San Lorenzo. Compared to what we had just seen, San Lorenzo (GPS: 32.810000, -107.920000) is a fairly large town. Its population was 97 as of the 2010 census. Our odometer told us that we had covered 120 miles – most of that on a winding mountain road.
We stopped at a gas station café for a much needed pit stop, gas, and lunch. Mexican food of course.
Going home by retracing our route was not inviting. Although beautiful, it was fatiguing, and we did not care to repeat it. The gas station manager laid out a route that would take us back without having to go over the mountains. It was longer but flat. We opted for that.
This leg of the trip turned out to be 167 miles, longer than 120 to be sure, but it was OK. We got to see some more of New Mexico and we got home very tired.
I must say, however, the person who wrote the description in the guide book has a bright future writing real estate ads.
