Our wanderings

Ancient cliff art tells of life and death in Canyon de Chelly

On May 17, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

Chinle, the town at the mouth of the canyon, is named for a mispronunciation of a Navajo word meaning “where the water comes out.”
Open-air, six-wheel-drive vehicles grind and slide through the water, mud and quicksand in the canyon.
Our guide and driver, Daniel, grew up in the canyon and has been giving tours there for more than 28 years.
Junction Ruins near where the south and north forks of the canyon divide.
Minerals from cascading water create patina on the canyon walls. Chipping it off creates petroglyphs.
One pictograph shows two men on horseback running down a deer.
Pictographs on the canyon wall show handprints, stick figures and Kokopelli lying on his back playing his flute.
White House ruins are named for the white plaster or paint on the back walls.
At Antelope House, bounding antelopes grace the walls, painted by Navajo artist Dibe Yazhi, or Little Lamb, in the 1830s.
Standing cow ruins are named for another painting by Little Lamb.
Additional ruins at the White House site.
The shadow of a raven flying near the canyon wall.
A pictograph of Spanish conquistadors, note the red cape and cross, memorialize their massacre of 115 Navajos.

By Judy Nichols

The day we entered Canyon de Chelly, in mid-May, water, lots of it, was flowing through the canyon.

“Usually, by mid-April, the water has dried up,” our guide, Daniel, told us. “This year, we had more than 15 inches of snow. Last year, we had none. I can’t get my tractor in to plant the corn on my mother’s land. My cousin’s bringing his tractor in today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll take the day off to try.”

Both sides of Daniel’s family have lived in the canyon for three generations, growing corn and tending orchards of apple, peach, pear and plum. His mother has two, 5-acre fields and about four acres of orchards. The land, about an hour-and-a-quarter drive into the canyon, has passed from Daniel’s great-grandmother, to his grandmother, to his mother, always to the oldest female in the family.

As a child, Daniel would climb sandstone cliffs, which rise up to 1,000 feet and hold treasures of Anasazi ruins, petroglyphs, pictographs, ladders used to escape marauding U.S. Cavalry, and caves that still bear chips from the bullets of Spanish conquistadors who killed 115 defenseless Navajos.

Arizona

The Coral Castle, one of the oddest roadside oddities

On May 11, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

This carving of the moon over the Coral Castle first caught my eye as we drive down the Dixie Highway in Florida.
A sign from the original site that Ed reinstalled. But at the Homestead site, he charged 25 cents.
A view of one of the obelisks near the stone gate.
A cutout of Edward Leedskalnin in front of some of his handmade tools.
The sundial, which keeps accurate time and dates.
The castle tower. Ed lived in the room on the second floor and kept his tools in the first floor.
The area just outside the walls of the castle where Ed quarried his limestone.
A view through the stone telescope focused on the North Star.
The bittersweet heart table.
Sunning chairs, which Ed would use to absorb the rays, moving based on where the sun was shining.
The Florida table with a depression where Lake Okeechobee would be.
Ed's hanging bed on the second floor of the castle tower.
Ed's hanging chair.
Ed's kitchen.
Ed's barbecue, two differentials from a truck, hung over a fire pit.
Celestial carvings.

By Judy Nichols

The Coral Castle, not really coral or a castle, is a charming roadside oddity filled with mystery and romance.

We stumbled upon it last year on our trip to the Everglades.

Coral Castle, Florida, Oddities

Cave Springs Campground: Cool base for great Sedona hikes

On May 9, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Campground Rating, Our wanderings

The Courthouse Butte hike is a short drive from the Cave Springs Campground near Sedona.
Sites at Cave Springs Campground have picnic tables and fire rings and are shaded by Ponderosa Pines.

Cave Springs Campground (3 / 4)

By Tom Nichols

Cave Springs Campground, about 12 miles north of Sedona, Arizona, in upper Oak Creek canyon is a good base camp for exploring red rock majesty in the Verde valley region.

campground

Double trouble: weather and dash alerts

On April 27, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings, The Epic Van

Weather can be an issue when you live in a tin can on wheels.
The Edmund Pettus Bridge, the spot where the fateful civil rights march from Selma to Montgomery began.
The National Memorial for Peace and Justice commemorates victims of lynching in the United States.
Dodging storms through the southern states.
Staff members treat a sea turtle on Jekyll Island in Georgia.
The train station in Plains, Georgia, which served as Jimmy Carter's campaign headquarters for his presidential runs.
Boiled crawfish and daquiris; best drive-thru ever!
Storms in Texas caused worry, but were beautiful, too.
Old-growth cypress in The Big Thicket in east Texas.
Tom hiking on the Tuxachanie Trail.
Sunset on the calming waters of the Llano River in Junction, Texas.
Sunrise and clear skies over Junction, Texas.

We live in a metal box on wheels, so weather becomes a demanding taskmaster we can never ignore.

This spring, we faced down the polar vortex and the bomb cyclone.

Weather

Tom and Judy rate their camps

On April 24, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

The Red Wing Iron Works in Red Wing, Minnesota.
The National Yoyo Museum in Chico, California.
When Richard Nixon appeared with Roy Acuff onstage at the Grand Ole Oprey in 1974, Roy handed him a yoyo. Dick proceeded to show the audience he knew a trick or two. This yoyo, which he later autographed, sold at auction for $16,000.
The Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area, a short commute from Mapleton, Oregon.
Petroglyphs at Painted Rock Petroglyph Site.
Judy beside the Coeur D'Alene River.
The magnificent view from our dispersed campsite in the Prescott National Forest.
Bison meandering at Sage Creek Campground in Badlands National Park in South Dakota.
The Epic Van at Croton Spring primitive roadside camp in Big Bend National Park.
The view from Westport-Union Landing State Beach in Northern California.
The Epic Van parked at Westport-Union Landing State Beach on a stormy day in Northern California.
The beautiful view from our campsite at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.

By Tom Nichols

Our goal for our fifth year of adventure in The Epic Van is clear. We’re spending more time in the Four Corner states of Arizona, Utah, New Mexico and Colorado.

And along the way, we will search for the best places to camp in The Epic Van and tell you about them with our four-star rating system.

Camps, Ratings

Frolic in Organ Pipe

On April 16, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

An organ pipe and saguaros in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Ocotillo blooming at the crest of Bull Pasture Trail in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
A hedgehog blossom in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Desert chicory in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Buckwheat buds and blossoms in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Red needles on a young organ pipe cactus in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Fleabane blossoms in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
A bee in an apricot globe mallow blossom in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Cholla buds and flower in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
Master blister beetles in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
A bee flying between desert sunflowers in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
A saguaro in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.
A zebra-tail lizard in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.

Each time my Mothers Who Write group came to poetry week, I would groan, not because I hate poetry, but because I feel so inadequate in its world.

Still, Deborah Sussman, our highly literate instructor, (who with Amy Silverman forms the MWW yin/yang) would coax us along like discombobulated chicks, encouraging and praising our efforts, no matter how pitiful.

I’ve also been inspired by my friend David Stabler’s brother, Martin, who each morning sends out Daily Sightings, a collection of his and others photos, poetry and thoughts.

So, this year, as I vow to broaden my self-expression (because those who know me know I don’t express myself nearly enough), I’m dabbling with colored pencils and watercolor (another out-of-my-element endeavor) and trying different kinds of writing.

Hence, I offer this, Desert Invitation.

Deborah and Martin, this one’s for you

Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument

Ten reasons I love Tucson, in no particular order

On February 27, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

The shuttered Catalina Odeon in Tucson.
Our former professor Jim Johnson and friend.
The Shanty, one of our old hangouts in Tucson.
Judy and Tom with former colleague Terry Cornelius at The Shanty in Tucson.
Nancy and Pam with panties on their head.
Bighorn sheep management area sign in Romero Canyon near Tucson.
A view from the trail in Romero Canyon.
Saguaro on the trail to Romero Canyon.
A view of the river on the trail to Romero Canyon.
Tom and Kevin trying out the corn grinder at the Mission Gardens Project.
Kale in the Mission Gardens Project in Tucson.
Gourds at the Mission Gardens Project.
Cactus blooming at the Mission Gardens Project.
The view of Tucson from A Mountain.
Tumerico, a piece of heaven.
Kevin, Brian and BAM at Tumerico.
Cuban tacos at Tumerico.

1 – Driving past old haunts like the Catalina Odeon Cineplex Cinemas and remembering when Tom and I, newly in love in journalism grad school at the University of Arizona, would ride our bikes on dates, coming out after the movie to cycle home in moonlight and warm breezes. The poor shuttered Cineplex is looking a little worse for wear, slightly decrepit, should I say, aged, but don’t we all.

tucson

Gathering silver and gold on America’s backroads

On February 1, 2019 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

The Epic Van with two Casita pals perched on the edge of the prairie at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park.
The local bachelor elks provided jousting entertainment.
Georges is the master of the campfire.
Old and new friends, from left, Tom, me, Allison, Bob, Keven and Georges.
Fine dining by lamplight.
Gathering around Big Tree, a really big tree.
Mushrooms along the trail.
Goerges forged on ahead, but left encouraging signs.
More mushrooms.
Ferns in Fern Canyon.
A very gallant gentleman carries his girl over the water in Fern Canyon.
Georges plating at his bear-box warming station.
Flambe in the forest.
Parting ways until we meet again.
A foggy morning at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park.

Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold.

So says the iconic scout song I learned as a Brownie, too many years ago to count.

The sentiment is true. The past four years full-timing in The Epic Van has been a testament to this theme. We’ve driveway surfed from Washington to California to Kansas to New Orleans, looking up old newspaper colleagues scattered to the four winds. We’ve broken bread with relatives near and far. And we’ve camped with and made fabulous new friends on the fly in Idaho, Montana and California.

Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park

Embracing nomadism: a homey rhythm

On September 29, 2018 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

Our second campsite at Goose Island Campground outside Arches National Monument.
Milt's Stop n' Eat in Moab.
Our campsite on the side of a mountain at Colorado National Monument.
Sunset from our campsite at Colorado National Monument.
Twinkling lights seen from our campsite at Colorado National Monument.
A view of Colorado National Monument.
A hike on the Rim Trail at Colorado National Monument.
Israeli melons at a Vetere stand in Green River, Utah.

There is an odd rhythm to nomadism, a dance, a feeling of slight disorientation as you get to know and embrace each new spot you call home, even if only for a few days.

Now, in year four of our journey in The Epic Van, we seem to have gotten better at it, reaching a comfort level we didn’t have in the beginning, when each new place felt wildly exciting, exotic and fascinating, but a little foreign.

An ancient bristlecone pine grove gives a lesson in patience

On September 27, 2018 by Judy Nichols With 0 Comments
- Blog, Our wanderings

Aspen in beautiful orange and gold along the Alpine Lake Loop Trail.
A beautiful hike through sub-alpine forest, including quaking aspen. (Lovely, even though we were on the wrong trail.)
The Bristlecone Pine Grove sits just below the tree line in the Great Basin National Park in Nevada.
Bristlecone pines, one full of foliage, one dead, but still standing.
One of hte ancient bristlecone pine, some of which are 5,000 years old, in the Great Basin National Park in Nevada.
The dense, resinous wood of the bristlecone pines resists insects and disease.
A gnarled old bristlecone in the grove in the Great Basin National Park in Nevada.
A gnarled, dead bristlecone, white as bleached bone, in the grove in the Great Basin National Park in Nevada.
The base of a bristlecone in the Great Basin National Park in Nevada.
A living bristlecone pine, its bark flayed open by wind, ice storms and freezing temperatures.
Bristlecone branches with tightly packed needles.
A view of the Great Basin from the Bristlecone Trail in the Great Basin National Park in Nevada.
Near the end of our double-length hike, a reward: a beautiful stream strewn with aspen leaves.

If I haven’t mentioned it before, Tom has become a true tree freak.

On hikes, he frequently stops to gaze upward at branch arrays, set his hand on a trunk’s bark, count the number of leaflets in a bunch and test the spikiness of needles against his fingers.

He takes photos of the whole tree, the leaves and the bark, and then compares them to photos and descriptions in his tree book when he returns to The Epic Van.

He’s so thorough that I’m beginning to know the difference between an Engelmann spruce and a limber pine.

And so, when we were at Great Basin National Park in eastern Nevada this week, we headed for the ancient Bristlecone Pine Grove on Wheeler Peak.

Bristlecone, Bristlecone Pine Grove, Bristlecone Trail, Great Basin National Park, Wheeler Peak Trail

2 Comments

Reply
electricscootershq.org March 1, 2017

Nomads and the civilised look at each other with disapproval and misunderstanding. Why would anyone want to wander the wilderness and live in a tent? Why would anyone want to live in a box and obey unnecessary masters?
- Reply
  Judy Nichols March 3, 2017
  
  Ali, Mostly we’ve found people think it’s really cool. Many tell us they dream of being able to wander the world. Are you a nomad?

New American Nomads

Minimal home, maximum life