Go West Young Men

For no known reason to Derek, me, or the rest of humanity, Faro decided to welcome the day with a run at seven in the morning. Sipe and I thought it best that we watch the house and protect our beds while Faro was out. We did a good job of it, too.

We nibbled on an assortment of snack bars, chips, and dry cereal for breakfast with a little Gatorade to wash it down the hatch. Today was a big day for sightseeing as we would be venturing to various sections of Frisco (as the locals call it) and experience some of what it has to offer. This was the first day I think that we did not travel in a car; the faithful van remained parked in the garage. Let’s hear a round of applause for public transportation!

But before you hop the Muni in San Fran, make sure you know what direction you’re headed. Otherwise, you’ll ride to one end of the rail, get told to get off, wait for five minutes while the lady twiddles her thumbs, get picked up again, then wait five more minutes while she pounds a bucket of fried chicken that looks (and apparently is) finger-licking good. Just a word to the wise.

Eventually, we found ourselves on the famous Pier 39. This place was worth the time and effort spent. It had lots of great smelling restaurants including that waffle-cone shop that I was sinning over. I’m a glutton and I know it. The pier also had a stage where a magician was performing. After he dropped the fifth ball, we departed (like his juggling skills seemed to have done long ago). Then we found some grub. I love food. Man, do I ever love food!

After the pier, we toured the boardwalk leading us down to Fisherman’s Wharf. On the way, we passed an In-N-Out Burger. My willpower waned in a moment of wonderful weakness and I bought a milkshake. What a great day!

During our wandering, we passed a homeless guy holding two bundles of branches with leaves. He hid behind them then scared passersby. One young lady found it amusing and said, “Good job, Treeman.” He instantly yelled back, “It’s Bushman. Get it right.”

Later we saw a street performer who didn’t really perform anything. He was dressed like a grandpa out of England from the early 1900s. He stood with green plaid socks pulled to his knees, tucked under khaki knickers, completed with a wool sweater vest, matching jacket, and Newsies hat. His round spectacles and waxed mustache only perfected the solid look. His act was playing old circus music while handling three large, silver rings. I say handling because he didn’t really do anything with them beside hold them and delicately move them one-by-one form hand to hand. It wasn’t all that entertaining but somehow it captivated me. I still don’t know if he’s real or not. If I had to bet I’d say no but I’ll let you seek him out for yourself.

We also saw Ghirardelli Square and some other neat places. But our last activity took us to AT&T Park where we watched the Giants play the Cardinals. I don’t know if you’re as interested as I am but I’ll explain just in case you are. Apparently the Giants are a baseball team who play professional in San Francisco in the MLB. Don’t worry, you haven’t been missing much all these years.

The park was awesome as it overlooked the bay but it also was cold as it overlooked the bay. (Sort of a one-step-forward-one-step-back kind of deal.) The night would have been better if we could have purchased some food but since we didn’t have $50 to drop on garlic fries, a hotdog, and a coke we waited for food. Like anyone cares, but the Giants won 4-2.

Funny story. At the game, we met a family from Australia who was sitting behind us. The dad took a liking to our crew and we have several mini conversations throughout the long and tedious game. Well, on the rail ride home, Faro turns to Sipe and me and tells us the Australians visited Alcatraz today. I guess he didn’t see that the Australian guy’s son was standing right there. To make matters a little less awkward, I asked the kid if they indeed saw Alcatraz and we talked for a bit.

With this road trip, everyday has been fun. We have plenty more days ahead but I’m trying not to live in the future, or in the past for that matter. It’s something I read in my John Wooden book. I think it’s an insightful point he makes.

“The door to the past has been shut and the key thrown away. You can do nothing about tomorrow. It is yet to come. However, tomorrow is in large part determined by what you do today. So make today your masterpiece.”

Coach Frey of the Messiah Women’s Soccer team has a phrase he tells his ladies. It’s good advice for them (it must be the way they dominated Division III soccer this year.) But also good advice for the rest of us looking to live lives that matter. It’s a simple line: “Let’s be fantastic!”

- JD and the boys

We tried to wake up for the sunrise today but I guess the sun is awake before six. I’ll be honest, I would hate to have the sun’s job. Up when it’s so early and cold, then down before night even starts. I mean, early to bed and early to rise may make you healthy, wealthy, and wise, but it’ll make you pretty lame too.

After a bit of another groggy start, we packed up camp and took one last glimpse from the top of the falls before starting the downward hike. As one guy told us, when descending “gravity is your friend.” It’s true, but with some of those slanted slopes he was a very pushy, relentless friend. I can’t complain. I loved the feeling of rushing past fellow hikers who were traveling the opposite direction thinking, “You’re not almost to the top mwahaha!!” But I think it just came out through smiling lips, “Good morning.”

Before leaving Yosemite, Faro and Sipe nourished themselves at Degnan’s Deli while I visited the Ansel Adam’s Gallery. If you haven’t taken the time to look at and enjoy some of his photographic work, do so soon. He was a genius with black-and-white, doing many of his shots inside national parks including Yosemite, Yellowstone, Glacier, and more. He is a strange mix of soul food and eye candy that leaves you hungry for more.

The travel agenda for the rest of the day was to reach San Francisco. The trip is long and slow when trying to vacate the Yosemite grounds and surrounding land, but once we hit the interstate we were sailing (a term I use to convey our optimization of the speed limit without over-exceeding it). I would like to take this moment right here to display that we have not garnered a single traffic violation of any sort. Sure, we got a warning from Yosemite about a can of bugspray in the van but there was no penalty for that and park rangers aren’t police.

San Francisco is a very cool city. Literally, from the sweltering 97 degrees Fahrenheit we were suffering through for the first four hours of our drive, it plummeted to the low sixties in a matter of minutes after crossing into the Bay Area. We were happy for that change of events since our AC has been about as consistent as political candidates in election year.

Still without our GPS, we found our way pretty easily to John Paul’s house, or should I say the Pope as we’ve nicknamed him. He is a Messiah grad of 2003 working as a mechanical engineer down here doing some pretty cutting edge stuff. He’s letting us crash his pad that’s just a few minutes from the Golden Gate Bridge. Speaking of which, we dropped by for a little meet-and-greet. We said, “Hello, Bridge, we’re Go West Young Men and we’re here to add you to our list of crazy-cools things we’ve seen. Consider yourself added.” The bridge wasn’t much of a conversationalist. It was a bit chilly and foggy anyway by the bay but we all enjoyed seeing that historic sight and the dark island of Alcatraz looming beyond it in the distance.

Later in the evening, Pope took us to a restaurant where we watched the last five minutes of Game 5 of the Cavs-Magic series. We talked for a while about a lot of different things. It was great. Afterwards, he took us on a tour through some different places of the city. We saw the heart of San Francisco from the perspective of a local instead of a tourist. We had plenty of fun today with the Pope but we’re pretty sleep-starved and ready for a good night’s rest.

Let me leave you with these inspirational song lyrics (I really hope you know their origin…)

What ever happened to predictability?
The milkman, the paperboy, evening TV.
Everywhere you look, everywhere you go (there’s a heart).
There’s a heart
A hand to hold onto.
Everywhere you look, everywhere you go.
There’s a face
Of somebody who needs you.
Everywhere you look,
When you’re lost out there and you’re all alone,
A light is waiting to carry you home,
Everywhere you look.
Everywhere you look.

- JD and the boys

The novelty of camping is starting to wear off. Well, if we’re being honest, it wore off a while ago and now it’s just becoming a test of endurance and patience. Anyway, we lived through the night to see another morning, this morning.

Our agenda for today included hiking and lots of it. We kicked off at the entrance to the Mist Trail; don’t worry, though, we never missed it. (If you didn’t get that last one go back and read….it was funny I swear.) This path lead us up past two waterfalls, Vernal Falls and Nevada Falls. The hike was very lush since the mist from these watercourses was constantly showering down on the paths beneath them. Everything was green and shimmering with water beads. It seemed like we were almost in Ireland.

One of my favorite sections was the approach to Vernal Falls. The rush of cool wind and refreshing mist rushed against our hot faces and arms. Then we ascended a jagged set of stone stairs cut against the rock that curved its way up along the side of the mountain. Closest to the falls, you could hardly hear the person next to you talking because of the roar of the water. But we couldn’t stand there long admiring it because the mist so thick right there that we were soon soaking.

At the top of the second falls, we could look out at the valley below us and watch the waterway wind its way through the pines smashing against giant. Let me deviate for a minute to talk about these rocks. They’re huge. Some are big as houses. Some are bigger than giants could throw. Some are even bigger than Ross Perot’s ears.

Anyways, at the top of Nevada Falls we cracked open our bear canister and ate some crumbled butterscotch cookies, granola bars (the food item of the trip), and trail mix. Eventually, we reclined on against the rocks, breathed in deeply of the cool, clean mountain air and napped under the open sky. It felt great.

After hiking down and completing the 7.5 mile roundtrip, we weren’t nearly done. The next course on the menu was Upper Yosemite Falls. We planned to hike this 8 mile roundtrip path up, camp the night, then hike down early in the morning. Come on, who does just one hike in a day anymore. That’s so 2000 and late.

But before we commenced our second hike, we had to repack our things including this time our much larger packs for our overnight stay. Add that with our already stressed legs from a multi-hour hike, the fact that we slept poorly the night before, and the afternoon sun, and it’s a recipe for pain.

Our spirits didn’t lift when we read that the last two miles were steep.

It hurt a lot. But I never wanted to be the one to ask for a rest so we kept going. Maybe the other guys were as stubborn as me or maybe not. At points, I was on the verge of giving in but in my family you don’t want to be the first one to break.

On the way, there’s a lot of traffic going both ways. Some people are friendly offering greetings. Some are stone-cold and have no idea there’s anyone but them on the trail. Some offer fake encouragement. We noticed that the more tired we looked, the more miserable, dehydrated, depleted, defeated, and dejected we appeared the more often people said, “You’re almost there.” Most of them were liars.

However, one little girl, 8 or 9 years olds spit the truth. As she followed her parents prancing past us she said with a perky smile, “If you’re going to Yosemite Falls, you’re not almost there.” Let me take this moment to point some things out. Truth, though always right, does not always need to be spoken. But she did encourage me in a weird way by taking my mind off the trail. Instead of suffering through the muscle-aching steps and focusing on my wearying body, I had visions in my mind of drop kicking her 60 pound body over the side of the trail and shouting after her, “If you’re going to the bottom, you’re almost there!”

When we finally found the summit, we had a great sense of joy and exhaustion about us. Faro opened a can of crushed pineapple and that thing was gone in a matter of seconds. The view looked over the valley to El Capitan and the famous half Dome. It was a nice reward for all of our efforts.

That night we found a nice patch of open ground and built our fort. It was surrounded by huge rocks and within earshot of the river running below us. We explored a bit then returned to watch the sunset by the falls. It was amazing. We didn’t see the actual sun but the end-of-the-day light seemed to dye the tips of the mountains in soft pinks and reds. The shadows before turning black illuminated purple against the mountain bases at the valley below. It was one of my favorite sights from the trip.

For dinner, we ate heartily: a box of mac-n-cheese for each of us with an applesauce cup for dessert. It was good and filling.

Hopefully bears won’ feast on us tonight like we did on those cheesy noodles.

Die another day.

- JD and the boys

Sorry for the hiatus. But we’re back again with new adventures to share.

Today we gathered our things that had been spreading all over Marlin’s house and we left. Marlin again made us a fantastic breakfast to start the day that propelled us well into lunch.

Then we drove. It’s not an altogether quick or supremely interesting drive to Yosemite. But it’s a hot one with lots of slow portions involved and expensive gas.

We did have an incredible sighting today! While meandering up the interstate, this odd car appeared ahead of us. As we hit the gas to get next, we verified that it was a DeLorean. Not only that, but it was an exact replica (if not the authentic article itself) from Back to the Future. We were driving somewhere in the 70s mph so we couldn’t see if it had the capability to time travel. But who knows, the flux capacitor was probably acting up again.

Now, we had a bit of a plan going into this afternoon. We wanted to enter the park after four (when they “close” and stop charging) but also make it to the Wilderness Center by five where they were holding our backpacking passes. But we didn’t know how far this Wilderness Center was in the park. We played our hand as best we could. We arrived after four but the gate was still manned, and they were still taking monies. It turns we entered the Wilderness Center with five minutes to spare.

At this Wilderness Center, the ranger going over our trips details seemed to keep laughing at us. He smirked that we weren’t starting our hike until dusk. He snickered when we thought we only needed one bear canister, and he clearly knew we needed two. Then one time he just politely smiled at our overall ignorance to what was happening with camping boundaries, bear lockers, and general rules. I think he half expected us to get eaten by bears; I think we half thought that ourselves.

We decided against starting our big hike that night. Maybe it was the thickening darkness, or the falling rain, or the hungry bears. But we chose to stay in a campground with others and start in the morning.

But we had to complete some preparations beforehand, one of which was emptying all of our foodstuff and other scented things into bear lockers. Now, for most travelers that’s not an issue. However, we have a van brimming with assorted and unassorted assortments. Most cars placed a bag of snacks in these lockers, taking up only a fraction of the space. We maxed out two lockers.

All things considered, camping that night was pretty great. We set up camp next to a picnic table and a fire pit. For dinner, we boiled some water over a fire we made with collected sticks and random scraps of paper. Then, we cooked spaghetti noodles and mixed in the sauce. It hit us at that point that no one had brought along silverware. As it turns out, roundtrip walking in the dark from car to campsite takes about a half an hour.

We devoured our spaghetti like it was fresh from Maggianos. For flavoring, we pinched off a corner of our bag of pretzels and shook out the salt granules that fell collected at the bottom of the bag. I used the excess water from cooking the noodles to heat a cup of ramen. For dessert, we each inhaled a cup of applesauce. What a feast!

Curfew’s about ten o’clock here. At least, fires have to turned off by then. We should get some good sleep for our big day tomorrow!

Our rain delay didn’t dampen our spirits though. As Robert Lewis Stevenson once said, “It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive.”

- JD and the boys

p.s. (I’m realizing that most blogs these days are about cars and food. I guess you know what’s on our minds.)

Unlike every other day, today began with sleeping in. Ladies and gentlemen, let me encourage you to try it soon if you haven’t experienced it for a while. It’s a simple pleasure but a most genuine one.

Marlin made us a magically delicious breakfast today. He set the table for us. It had this super-granola cereal, 1% milk, orange juice, fruit salad (he made that morning), and a cream-cheese coffee cake. I don’t think you can possibly start a day better than with sleeping in followed by a breakfast like that.

The rest of the day didn’t change complexion much. It included some internet surfing for leisure, then some lounging by the pool accompanied with reading and some unashamed sun tanning. Then to throw it all off, Faro and I went on a 20-minute run. Well, there was more jog than run.

In case your heart was racing, let me remedy it by sharing that we did indeed hit the road today if only for an hour or so. Azusa Pacific University lies a few miles away so we visited it by car. Nice place (but it’s got nothing on Messiah!!)

After we got back, Marlin took us to a pizzeria where we pigged out pizza, pop, and salad while watching Game 4 of the Lakers versus the Nuggets (both sites we’ve hit so far on the trip). Lakers struggled and Marlin struggled with them.

After dinner, we returned home for our second interview with, you guessed it, Marlin Riegsecker. He had some great things to say even if you claimed he would be done speaking in two minutes. He told us that he couldn’t tell us how important community was to him. In his own words, “When you hang up the shingle at the end of your life, it’s not the financial gain that you’ve made that counts, it’s the relationships you’ve built and the friendships you’ve made that matter.”

Created and called for community.

- JD and the boys

I woke up this morning (May 24th) to the sound of cars. Inside the tent, it was hot and getting hotter. I crept out to get some fresh air wondering if Sipe would wake up in a pool of sweat inside his thick, flannel sleeping bag. Faro opted to stay in the car and I saw him through the windows scrunched over and around objects like he was in a jungle gym. I opened the passenger door, sat in the seat, and let the morning breeze blow by.

Somewhere between early morning and it’s-so-early-my-eyes-hurt, we left our roadside makeshift campgrounds and set a course for Los Angeles. We didn’t know it yet, but today was going to be special.

After all of our dehydrating excursions assailing hot, giant rocks and putting our lives on the line, we had something different in mind for today: Newport Beach. Fast forwarding through all the traffic, the smoggy air, and the most expensively-priced gas in the country, we finally found ourselves burrowing our toes in the warm sand of the California coast! We did it. Go West Young Men went west.

Laying on the beach, under the sun, listening to the crashing waves, feeling the breeze wick away the beading sweat, I think I discovered a new level of peace and joy in my life for a good hour or so. But we didn’t want to get burned so we shook out our towels and said goodbye (for now) to this paradise. Upland, California was calling us, and I was calling Marlin Riegsecker to found out how to get there.

Marlin is a trustee at Messiah College. We had never met but had talked a handful of times by phone. Of all the new people we’ve met so far, Marlin’s the trip favorite so far.

He greeted us and welcomed us inside. We sat and talked in his living room for a while about a lot of different things, including his furniture business, his blind dog Pugs, and his friend Robin. Then he took us to out to get some chow. We asked him for the name and he said that it was some Mexican restaurant. He had been there dozens of time but couldn’t think of the name. It was called Sergio’s Mexican Restaurant.

We feasted on all manner of chips, tortillas, refried beans, seasoned chicken, and more. We talked about baseball and the current series between the Dodgers and the Angels.

We had to hustle back to his house so we could leave for dinner. Every Sunday evening he attends church at a house where the group has dinner then proceeds to singing, sharing, and a sermon. He invited us along.

What an experience! Faro, Sipe, and I postgamed about it and decided we felt so unintelligent and uncultured after leaving. Everyone was quoting sources and citing books, cross referencing different authors in a full-bodied discussion of hefty theological matters. I couldn’t help but think that these people do more than just read their Bibles. They live like it all matters. They digest these things like food, chewing ideas over in their minds until they’ve drawn out the flavor within. Not only did half of them have doctorates (while the other half were probably geniuses anyway) but everyone could sing. We had no instruments and worshipped out of hymnals but this group of about a dozen belted out melodious songs like an honest to goodness choir.

After church, Marlin didn’t drive us home, but to In-And-Out Burger. Bless this man! If you ever has the privilege of eating at this fine establishment, I have some advice for you. One, order the double-cheeseburger animal style. Two, order fries animal style. Three, order a shake. Four, look at the bottom of the shake cup and you’ll find something neat written there.

We were exhausted by the time we reached Marlin’s home again and didn’t need much convincing before going to bed. But since we didn’t have internet until now we took this chance to reconnect with the world at large. I’m hitting the hay and don’t plan to wake up until lunchtime.

All in all, Marlin is the man!

Let me leave you with this quote from John Wooden on fate: “I believe things are directed in some sort of way. I’m not exactly sure how. I also believe that things turn out best for those who make the best of the way things turn out.”

- JD and the boys

p.s. (Pullovers is up to 29. That number experienced healthy growth recently. Road kill experienced unhealthy growth (for the animals anyway) as it now tallies a whopping 52. Official license plate count is 45 including Hawaii and Alaska…yeah…wow. Not to mention some from Canadaland, one from Europe, and an unconfirmed Puerto Rico from Sipe….still not sure about that one.)

Before I start today’s blog, I just want to apologize for all of the errors in the two previous posts. I wrote those in a car at night with little sleep…and at the time proof reading was just not a viable option.

Ok. Now we may begin.

Today was the day that we’d square off against the Grand Canyon. After the swooping birds and croaking frogs woke us up, we packed up our tent prepared for the day.

Around eight or so we started out descent. But allow me to preface our hike. As the name infers, the Grand Canyon is somewhat sizeable. It follows then that they are numerous trails from which one has the option of choosing. We elected Bright Angel. This path goes from the canyon rim to the river basin, a distance of 7.8 miles. Although you may not, this English major turned to his calculator and discovered that a round trip would equal 15.6 miles. So, at the very least, we have a true national parker’s hike ahead of us.

However, it was more than even that. As we began, we encountered signs along the path that read, “Never try to hike from the rim to the river and back in one day. May who tried suffered serious illness of death.” I thought I might offer the voice of reason to our crew, suggesting that serious illness or death might not be the way we want to end our roadtrip. Faro pacified me by saying that if I died he’d put a special line in his blog about me. What a guy.

Shortly after we settled on hiking to the bottom and back up again, we overheard an experienced hiker articulate the quote of the day. After stating he would only hike a couple miles down, he explained that going to the bottom was out of the picture for him, adding, “They say you just can’t do it.”

On the way down, we blew by everyone we saw. At times, we were almost running (props to Sipe and Faro for getting a little early training in for the mile-test.) The only thing that slowed us down was a line of mules but eventually we bypassed even this heard. The canyon walls on the way down seemed to grow before our very eyes as the deeper we hiked the higher they loomed. The magnitude of it all is impossible to captures in words or pictures. The best way I can describe is that inside the Grand Canyon we were like ants crawling in a giant’s world.

We made it to the bottom in less than three hours and rested there for less than thirty minutes. But while there we dipped our feet in the cold water of the Colorado River. We also splurged on some snacks, including Gatorade and beef jerky. (Beef jerky may be one of the Ten Best Things of all time. Not kidding one iota.)

Then like the wind changing direction we changed shoes, packed up, and set our face to the trail. We knew it would be long but we were a determined group. Our pace was nearly as fast going up as it was going down. But now the southwestern sun broke free of the clouds and covered the land in its heat and light. We began taking longer stops and slower steps. We began chugging liquids like breathing in oxygen. The wrath of the Grand Canyon was upon us. But this hearty bunch was not to be denied.

We trudged on. Feet ached. Muscles, overtaxed with heat and use, fell prey to cramping and extreme fatigue. But the worst point for me in the hike was when we thought the end was just around the next bend. But around the next bend we only saw another half mile of climbing switchbacks baking under the heat of the fiery sun. By now, I started contemplating writing my last will and testament as a text message on account of not having any paper or pencil. But since I don’t actually have anything accept that cell phone I decided it wasn’t worth it.

The only thing that kept us motivated to continue towards the top was discussing all the different foods we were going to eat when we finished. Here were some of the ideas tossed around: Steak, Fried Chicken, Chicken Fried Steak, Fettuccini with Chicken, a Garbage Plate, a cold Dr. Pepper, and more. We celebrated the incredible feat of reaching the top by sitting on a rock. Then we got up and sat on a bench. Some of the happiest moments of my life happened today while I was sitting down.

After deciding we needed to eat that night, we agreed we needed showers before then. We went to a Laundromat/shower facility nearby. But you had to pay $2 for an eight minute shower. Naturally, we would rather spend money on food than water so we paid the eight-quarter-fee and all took a shower in that eight minutes. The timing was precise. “Sipe, I’ll be done in twenty seconds be ready.” “Sipe, you have ten seconds left. Faro, you ready?” Magnificently orchestrated, we were all squeaky clean in eight minutes.

After a twenty minute wait for dinner, we sat down inside a restaurant, still at the Grand Canyon. This was the first meal we would be buying since the start of the trip. Not joking, we were giddy and giggling like schoolgirls talking about prom dates. Starving and simply ravenous for food at that point, some persons may or may not have taken spoon-shots of A1 Steaksauce. Don’t judge us.

We ate like there was no tomorrow.

After we finished eating, we walked out to the car and devoured a bag of Doritos and a box of Fiddle Faddle. Don’t judge us.

That night, we drove through the Hoover Dam on our way to Las Vegas. No gambling happened but we did enjoy taking a drive down the strip and drinking in the sights and sounds of this one-of-a-kind city. There’s so many lights we could see the sky illuminated from at least 60 miles away.

We’re sleeping tonight again in the middle of nowhere. It’s starting to feel oddly normal to do that. L.A.-bound in the morning.

- JD and the boys

After a good night’s rest, we awoke bright-eyed and bushytailed ready to tackle the adventures of Zion (see previous post for the irony). We packed our bags and ambled toward the park’s shuttle service. Our first destination of two would be The Gateway of the Narrows.

Basically, this was a mile-long trail leading to a small river that wove its way through towering walls of rock on either side. The bottom was covered in river-smoothed stones topped with layers of algae just in case they weren’t already slippery enough; but it’s not like we slipped or anything, I mean, we’re all able-bodied athletes. But in the sake of fairness, if someone would have slipped I wouldn’t have judged them for it. This watercourse, though difficult at times to maneuver it, was worth all the work and wet clothes it required.

The second cry of our hearts was a place called Angel’s Landing. It was a 3.9 mile round trip hike that was steep, strenuous, and not recommended for those with a fear of heights. I took that description with a grain of salt.

We sailed through the first half of the climb. Though I admittedly am no fan of heights, I really had no problem with the hike. It was high, sure, but the path was safe and secure.

All that changed when I realized that the portion we’d been hiking was for grandparents, small children, and people with wooden legs. The real ascent to Angel’s Landing began with a precariously winding trail worn near the edge of the cliff-face. It didn’t even have steps or footholds, just small indentations in the rock perfect for losing your footing and plummeting over the side of the cliff into a rocky chasm hundreds of feet below. But I’m sure it was safe for the most part. That is until the chain handrails – the only things keeping bodies from painting Zion’s floor – were removed during the most hazardous portions of the course.

I went pretty far but had to call it quits on account of the dizziness I felt from realizing my life could be over in one false move. But Faro and Sipe like true national parkers continued to the very top of Angel’s Landing. I hear it’s the scariest/coolest thing in the history of May 22.

During my time watching them climb to the peak, while fighting off hyperventilation I discovered my new favorite sight of the trip. Four jurassic mountains of red sandstone stood aligned in the distance, each one in turn smaller than the last (would make a great snapshot on one of those AT&T commercials, you know, “More bars, more places). Beneath those cliffs ran a dark blue river in the midst of a lush green forest. It looked like something from another world.

We met some great people today. The field trip guide (whose group we crashed for a bit) who showed us the right places to navigate in the Narrows. The Asian lady who sat with me while we watched other people take their lives into their own hands while scaling the perilous pinnacles of Angel’s Landing. The silver-haired tour group with whom we had some good conversation. The guy with the bad knee who used to live in Las Vegas. Or even the dude from York.

But today’s highlight happened at dinnertime, or at least what should have been dinnertime. After a recent diet of granola bars, Doritos, Oreos, apples, and string cheese, we were ready for something substantial and warm. Remember that hotpot we bought at Target? Well, using the visitor center’s outlets, we boiled some water and made a rice dish and a pasta dish. Did I mention that this outlet was located in the one-person bathroom? Did I mention that while Faro and I were inside a lady flicked open the door only to mutter a hurried half-apology and spin away. Sipe right outside heard her say something about locking doors. It wasn’t much but it was warm.

We are on the road again. Almost ran out of gas again. We really got to work on that.

Tomorrow will be grand as we will be spending it hiking the Grand Canyon (come on, aren’t I allowed one cheesy joke every now and then?)

In closing, we all noticed today how friendly and kind people are when you’re on a hiking trail. So many smiles. Too many greetings and well wishes to count. It seems like people, once they get away from society, become these warm creatures they were intended to be. Everybody’s friends on a mountainside. With that in mind, this section of my nightly Wooden reading resonated with me: “People like to help, to be polite, to be considerate. I believe it’s basic to human nature. And it’s a funny thing: when you start displaying courtesy, politeness, and consideration, people start displaying them right back.” What a guy.

- JD and the boys

p.s. – (While talking to Park-Ranger-lady at the visitor center, I discovered that parking and sleeping inside a park after hours is an illegal, ticket-able offense. Who knew?)

p.p.s. (Don’t ask me the how or why but I thought I’d mention that today was the first day that we didn’t see my mom on the roadtrip. We’ve traveled halfway across America, going through three time zones, spanning six days, while hitting 10 different states. But I guess I had to cut the umbilical cord sooner or later and apparently four years of college 12 hours away didn’t do the trick.)

And the journey west continues. After we casted off from Denver en route to Zion National Park in Utah, we pulled a quick stop at Target for some essentials: hotpot, can opener, air freshener (believe it or not, a car full of guys doesn’t smell better over time.) Then we swung by Dicks so Faro and I could buy some socks and shoes for hiking. Then the party got started.

We spent that morning driving through the Rockies. It’s a beautiful drive and I recommend if you’re ever heading out this way scout out 70 West on your map and take it.

Faro was at the wheel during this section of the trip. He filled up the tank, and proceeded to drive it nearly 500 miles; we were making great time. (On a side note, it always puzzles me how Faro drives the speed limit but makes suck incredible time…?) Well, I don’t know if you know but cars run on gas. This simple fact became an immensely important fact as the needle drew steadily closer to the infamous “E” planted on the bottom of the gas gauge. With the mileage counter showing how many miles until empty, we knew we didn’t have long. Then along came a sign: “Food and Gas Next Exit.” Oh the happiness, the joy, the excitement! Oh the surprise when we turned onto that exit and saw another sign that read: “Gas 25 miles.” Desperate, yes. But we were no way going to give in to this tricky piece of false advertising. So with 40 miles remaining on the counter, we returned to the interstate. Long story short, we drove over 40 miles, spending a significant amount of those in neutral. We really need to get better at that “nearly running out of gas” thing.

But to be fair, Faro wasn’t the only guy who made some memorable moments at the wheel. Don’t ask me how but on a stretch of bumpy roads traveling within a reasonable margin of the speed limit I somehow turned off the car. We’re all alive and that’s about as much explanatory information you need.

(Random interesting fact: Utah’s police officers drive Mustangs. I should add also that we did not discover this first hand but through the unfortunate mishaps of fellow car-folk who were flagrantly ignoring the speed limit.)

Around dusk, we reached the northernmost section of Zion and took a tour by car of the Kolob Canyons. These were magnificent red cliffs tucked quietly behind I-15. My favorite sight to this point in the trip happened as we were driving out of the Kolob Canyons. As we rounded a switchback, we saw the sun setting behind a ridge of dark mountains. The sky was a blend of red, orange, yellow, pink, purple, and blue – it kinda looked like a big creamy popsicle of light. (I, of course, took a picture and posted it on facebook but those pictures just can’t capture the magic of the moment.)

But for beautiful moments what happened later that night really was no competition. When we pulled into Zion, we didn’t have any extravagant plans for camping; heck, we didn’t have any plans period. Turns out all these places fill up likes decades in advance. So we drove around…then drove some more…and kept driving until we agreed on a place to sleep. That location was (illegally or not) a turn-off inside of the park premises. We discussed to no end what would happen if a ranger found us. We thought he might just knock on the window ask what we were doing, then we’d explain we were three clueless national parkers looking for a bed.

With the engine turning off at 10:45pm, we rustled into our sleeping positions inside the van. I took the front seat. It really wasn’t took bad. With a couple of pillows, it turned into an off-brand Lazy Boy. The other two, however, had things a little rougher. In the back, instead of a seat we’ve stacked two padded mats on the floor for stretching out and sleeping. Faro and Sipe shared this spot; if we’re going to be honest, they filled this space like toothpaste in the tube. It didn’t help that we couldn’t open windows for fear of bugs. It really didn’t help that when one person moved the other two heard every scratch, rustle, sniffle, exhalation, and fidget.

12:20am strikes and the boys can’t take it. After the most miserable two hours of sleep-failure in our lives they test the great outdoors. Grabbing their sleeping bags, hoodies, and bugspray they burst from the van in hopes of some shuteye. Call me opportunistic but I saw that space open up in the back and I pounced. Still, none of us slept well. Fear of angry park rangers, crazy mountains men, or hungry squirrels kept us all more than half awake that night. I don’t think the van has recovered yet from all the hours we logged in it (I’m referring directly to the puzzling and not altogether perfume-ish scent arising from all its pores). On that note, how about I leave you with this quote I spied on a billboard in Utah for Iggy’s: “It really is that fresh and fun.”

Tomorrow brings big hopes of awesome sights and (legal) explorations of Zion.

- JD and the boys

I was fortunate enough this morning to be pulled from sweet dreams by a body slam from Sipe. Derek, what would I do without you? After that, we chowed down a healthy breakfast and for the first time the road trippers went different directions. I stayed home to hang with nephew Kaleb and nieces Ellie and Sophie. Faro and Sipe took to the road in search of an adventure in the Rockies. The boys said they had a great time hiking in the mountains. Safe? Smart? No. But it sounded like it was quite an experience.

Here at the Binger’s household in Denver, me and the kiddos read books, played with Star Wars legos, watched some videos, and had a good afternoon.

Sometime before lunch I took a break from the festivities and went for a run. I’ve made better decisions with my life.

In the middle of the afternoon I went with Holly (sister-in-law) over to the school to watch Kaleb’s last day of kindergarten. Today was water day, which meant that everyone in his class was having a water party to celebrate the end of classes. Kids were running through sprinklers all screams and giggles like something out of the 1950s. They also had a water balloon toss with partners – I doubt you’ll find it too hard to believe that before long this game transformed into cutthroat battle with splashy explosions. Another activity I enjoyed watching was the bob for apples. The kids never really understood the core principles guiding this game. Each time they dunked their heads in they seemed surprised to find water rushing up their noses and soaking their hair. As a result, the bobber would plunk his head from the brisk water, spit into the bucket, then drop in for another dunk. Speaking as a very germ-aware individual, this really only started to bother me in the third and fourth rounds of the game when the countless spit-backs starting mixing with the snotty noses. Of course, the floating chunks of bitten but uneaten apple and the random blades of grass only added to the cesspool. I thought about trying for an apple at some point then I was like, “Heck, why don’t I just take one of the half eaten cores from the garbage can, swirl it around a bit in the trash juice, and get the same effect.” Water day, though ranking low on the sanitary scale, was a good day.

But the best was yet to come. Kindergarten graduation!

Two fidgety lines of white and royal squirmed down the aisles in pairs. Miniature cap and gowns filled with miniature people surrounding by a swelling sea of zealous parents firing pictures like trained paparazzi. I’m surprised the kids didn’t go into epileptic shock.

The whole ceremony was pretty adorable. My favorite section was the Words of Wisdom from Kindergarten one where they revealed a kindergartner’s take on popular maxims. Enjoy a few we captured for your entertainment:

(First, the phrase as it really goes. Then, the edited version.)
Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. *Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t walk around naked.
Man cannot live by bread alone. *Man cannot live by bread if it’s moldy.
Look before you leap. *Look before you sit down.
The early bird catches the worm. *The early bird catches the later bird.
Fight fire with fire. *Fight fire with a hose.
Never say never. *Never say how old your mom is.

I’m stunned by the frankness and simple logic applied by these kids. Most of us (including me) could use another dose of a kindergartner’s common sense in our lives.

The post party went down in Red Robbin (by the way, the Whiskey River BBQ burger is a fine choice for anyone with a serious hunger looking to be quelled).

Tomorrow will find us in Utah at Zion National Park. Blogs and picture updates won’t come for a couple of days…I hope the world can cope. What with the economic downturn, we realize people need something to look forward to, a bright spot in their day. Since for a couple days we won’t be filling that role, let me suggest that you eat more ice cream or at least grab that bubble plastic packing stuff and give it a good twist: two sure-fire solutions for a quick pick-me-up.

Let me leave you tonight with some good wisdom, not from a kindergartner this time but the untouchable John Wooden. Sometimes people “get so caught up making a living they forget to make a life.” This following list of seven things to do Coach Wooden received from his father:

1. Be true to yourself.
2. Help others.
3. Make each day your masterpiece.
4. Drink deeply from good books, especially the Bible.
5. Make friendship a fine art.
6. Build a shelter against a rainy day.
7. Pray for guidance and count and give thanks for your blessings every day.

Finally, commenting on living up to his dad’s creed, Wooden said, “I am not in my eight decade and I would like to be able to tell you that I lived up to Dad’s creed, but I am more like the fellow who said:

I am not what I ought to be,
Not what I want to be,
Not what I am going to be,
But I am thankful that
I am better than I used to be.

“It’s important to keep trying to do what you think is right no matter how hard it is or how often you fail. You never stop trying. I’m still trying.”

- JD and the boys