Bittersweet

When last you left our intrepid band of travelers we were in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  We left Albuquerque for an easy day of 360 miles through the mesas of the Land of Enchantment and entered Arizona's eastern desert climbing up to 7000 feet and the pine country in the Flagstaff region arriving in Williams late in the afternoon.

Williams is an interesting town.  Labeled the "Gateway to the Grand Canyon" and on the original Route 66, Williams is a tourist town taking advantage of its two big draws: the Grand Canyon and Route 66 nostalgia.  Williams was the last town on the original 66 that was by-passed by I-40, that happened in 1984. We had a mediocre meal, but great pie, at one of the local diners then spent the evening walking Route 66 and popping into souvenir shops--it was a beautiful evening for strolling, mid-70's.

This morning we were up and at the Williams train depot by 9:00 to first catch a kitchy-perfectly over acted "western" show and then board the Grand Canyon Railroad for our 2:15 trip to the south rim of the Canyon. The train ride is a lot of fun, beautiful scenery as you climb about 1500 feet and wind through first the scrub brush high desert and then the pines and forests.  The railroad was established in 1919 and after being closed in the late 1960's a couple from Scottsdale purchased and revived the railroad in 1989.  Every car has a tour guide of sorts who goes through the history of the area, facts on the Grand Canyon during the ride.  Jenna and I played War as everyone watched the scenery through the windows.

At 11:45 we arrived at the depot at the Grand Canyon, walked up to the rim and were just speechless.  Leslie took a lot of pictures with her new Canon she purchased just before the trip, and after all most everyone said, "it doesn't do it justice...."  And it is true, no matter how good the photographer or the picture, until you are standing on the edge of the canyon, looking down one mile and across ten to fifteen and  just as far or further in either direction, you cannot comprehend the scope and beauty of the Grand Canyon.

As a bonus to our trip we saw three California Condors soaring over us, a magnificent bird in flight that is quite ugly when you get a close look (which we did when one perched on a rock outcropping about fifty feet away from the stone barrier on the rim), watching the birds with their enormous wingspan (up to twelve feet) soaring for miles without flapping their wings is mesmerizing.

Every ten feet down the path along the rim would open up a bit of a different view of the canyon.  Standing on the edge, even with a stone barrier and a gradual slope before the drop off, one feels somewhat acrophobic.  Looking through the binoculars at the floor and far canyons I felt eerily pulled towards the canyon--not a comfortable feeling for me.

After a break for lunch and walking around for three and a half hours in the 85 degree heat and high altitude we were a bit bushed and eagerly boarded the train at 3:15 for the ride back to Williams.  The guide had some jokes, there was a fake train robbery and Jenna and I finished our card game of War (victory to Dad) and relaxed to the steady rhythm and clickety-clack of the train.  At one point I reflected I did not have to make the hour drive down the hill but could sit back and relax on the train.

I highly recommend two things. First, if you have never visited the Grand Canyon, or if your kids have not, then do so.  It is a one day drive from Southern California--445 miles and 7 hours between Williams and Long Beach.  Second, take the train trip from Williams, it is fun, no hassle with driving, parking, etc.

Last evening as we were strolling, I looked at Leslie and said, "one more day... I am looking forward to home but really want to continue the journey."

So it is with bittersweet emotions that we go to bed on the penultimate night of our Great American road trip.  Leslie and I had a great week driving to Minnesota and spending all that time together without the kids.  Leslie and I then have had a great week driving back from Minnesota with Blaire and Jenna and spending all this time together with the kids.

Even with crummy Blackberry camera you can take a great photo of the Grand Canyon

Condor soaring above us and the canyon

Blaire has a new motto---hard to argue!

It's Big!

The West is big, really big.  Huge, immense, grand, pick your adjective and it fits the American West.  We saw it driving the valley of the Eastern Sierras, the vast hills of Eastern Oregon, the huge canyons of Idaho and Western Montana and the plains of Montana and North Dakota.

Today's drive once again brought home the incredible amount of space, land this nation has.  Leaving Tulsa we went through the Osage hills of northeastern Oklahoma into the central part of the state where wildfires have devastated Creek County with hundreds of homes being destroyed and then past Oklahoma City we entered the Plains.  The vast, open, see the curve of the earth on the horizon Plains of western Oklahoma and the Texas Panhandle.  In the area around Amarillo, Texas town silos are like city skyscapers as they tower over the flat landscape, visible ten, twenty, thirty miles away.

Leaving Texas and driving through eastern New Mexico one begins to climb in altitude and the landscape becomes more green, trees and scrub brush are more prevalent and ranches the norm.  But again the vast size of the region leaves an impression of how lonely the frontiersmen, trappers and cowboys must have felt with no sign of other humans or any break in the landscape from horizon to horizon.  The advantage of the New Mexico traveler is the mountains that break from the prairie and climb to 10,000 feet.

Although our drive today was 650 miles and about 10 hours our drive was a geography lesson of the west as we left hill country for prairies for hill country for mountains.  It's big, real big, our American West.

When we arrived at our Best Western destination this evening the girls took a dip in the pool to cool off while Mom and Dad imbibed with cocktails from our car-bar by the pool. Afterwards we walked about a half mile to Old Town Albuquerque for dinner at Monica's El Portal.  I love chili verde and in Southern California it is almost always made with pork.

In Albuquerque chili verde is a chili sauce, very spicy, that is more of a sauce than a dish.  I had the chili verde chicken soup with rice. Served with the meals are sopapillas, a variety of tortilla dough that is fried and puffs up.  One of the best Mexican meals I have had, anywhere.

Today's picture is of the beer I enjoyed with my meal, a local brew that was excellent.

Tomorrow we have a relatively short trip into Northern Arizona past Flagstaff to Williams where we will bunk for two nights and make an excursion to the Grand Canyon on Friday.

Seeing Tulsa

What I feared would be a boring day for the girls as their Old Man dragged them around Tulsa saying, "I remember when....we used to....this is where..." all day was instead a day filled with some of the sights of people and they enjoyed it.  Phew!

After a bit of a late breakfast (to come clean, late for me the early riser, probably not so late for those on vacation--breakfast was 9:30 local) at a local diner with Judy Wright and her grandson--Judy being my Dad's cousin's wife, think of her as an aunt since we are talking Tulsa relations, we headed to the Philbrook Museum.  The Philbrook's original building was the home of Waite and Genevieve Phillips, as in Phillips Petroleum.  The 72 room mansion and 23 acres was donated during the Depression to the city of Tulsa as an art museum and center. When we were kids in the '60's my brother, sister and I would go to art classes held in the attic of the mansion.

Today Philbrook is a fabulous museum with Italian art from the 15th Century to modern Native American art.  The tremendous garden has several interesting sculptures and beautiful landscaping.  We arrived before the thermometer hit 90 degrees and the kids did a scavenger hunt finding rubbing-stones at different sites (they were given directions and blank pieces of paper and a crayon, at each rubbing stone they would put the paper on the stone and rub the crayon to get a relief of the picture on the stone).  They enjoyed finding the stones and we enjoyed the walk through the grounds.

Koi pond reflecting gazebo in Philbrook gardens Photo courtesy of Philbrook.org

We then explored the galleries and the kids engaged in another scavenger hunt. The air conditioning of the museum was quite a relief after experiencing the Tulsa summer.

Following the visit to Philbrook we took a driving tour of Tulsa showing the girls where their Opa, my dad, grew up, and very importantly we went to Goldie's.  Goldie's is a mandatory stop for the Smith family on any trip to Tulsa to get what we consider the best burger in the states.  Goldie's is now a franchise operation with several locations, we however go to the original, though much expanded from the original, site at 51st and Lewis.  Also mandatory is enjoying the Goldie's pickle bar.  Like many iconic places, like Dodger Stadium, Goldie's was founded in 1962--sharing the year with a certain someone writing this blog.  Daughter Blaire loves cheeseburgers so I have been waiting quite some time to bring her to our family hamburger mecca.

Blaire becomes another generation of Smith's to
enjoy the Goldie Special with cheese

After lunch we headed north of Tulsa to the Tulsa Air and Space Museum where Glenn Wright, Judy's husband and Dad's cousin and sort of like our uncle in Tulsa relations, is the Executive Director and very much the driving force in getting the museum built and continued operation over the years.  With an F-14 and other planes in the main building, great side exhibits focused on Tulsa's aviation history, from the story of the Tulsamerican, the last B-24 bomber built at the Boeing plant in Tulsa that was shot down during World War II to the bright orange Bell helicopter Glenn once landed in a vacant lot half a block away from where we are now staying, the museum is a terrific site for local and national aviation history.

Meandering back to our digs for a quick change we then enjoyed an leisurely dinner with our hosts Ann and Mickey Wilson, her son Steve Lake and family and Glen and Judy Wright.  A perfect ending to a wonderful day showing off my hometown to my daughters.

How did it go?  Blaire told me, "Tulsa is cool...not the temperature but you know cool." And Jenna told Leslie she did not want to leave, Leslie asked if it was because she didn't want to get in the car for a long trip and she said, no she just liked it and wanted to stay.  Dad's happy the trip went well and the girls did not get tired of the history lessons and trips down memory lanes.

Tomorrow we have a long haul, 650 miles west on I-40, through OKC (home to the Thunder for you Laker fans), Amarillo, Tucumcari and into the Best Western in Albuquerque for a stop over before we head to our final stop before home.

A familiar sign for our family as Dad worked for DX when
lived in Tulsa, when they merged with Sunoco we moved  from
Oklahoma to Philadelphia

It hit 104 degrees in Tulsa today, the restaurant with
West facing doors put napkins on the door handles so you
could open the doors without burning your hands!

My Hometown

Like everyone we have heard about the severe drought in the Midwest and seen the pictures of the depleted corn fields and the ears of corn missing kernels.  Driving through North Dakota, Minnesota and most of Iowa our untrained eyes saw what appeared to be healthy fields of corn, reminiscent of the fields we saw on last year's journey through Nebraska and South Dakota.

As we drove south from Des Moines yesterday we slowly saw more and more yellow and less and less green in the fields until we began to see field after field after field of corn crops that looked like Thanksgiving decorations, yellow and dry.  With severe heat the last month or more and lack of rainfall this part of the corn belt is taking it hard and will take many years to recover financially from their losses on their current crops.

South of Des Moines on Interstate 35 is Kansas City.  To me Kansas City used to mean the Royals and the Chiefs, but today means three words Bar B Cue.  As we were taking a pit stop to fill up and let out north of the city I called the Kansas City Chamber of Commerce.

"Kansas City Chamber of Commerce."

"Hello, we are from California and driving south on I-35 and then will continue south on highway 71 towards Joplin.  Since we are passing through Kansas City we would like to have some barbecue for lunch.  Can you recommend a place near our route?"

"Well we have a rather iconic barbecue you may want to try..."

Before she said it I knew what she was going to say and I started to salivate..."Arthur Bryant's."

Yes! Arthur Bryants! On our route! This is like a baseball fan being told, "yes we do have seats for you...in Yankee Stadium...and you will see a no hitter."  Or a Catholic being told, "yes we do have room for you in Mass...in the Sistine Chapel...and the Pope will conduct the service."

Arthur Bryant is a legend in barbecue and his original restaurant is a mecca for barbecue lovers.  Like me.

Arthur Bryant's

Leslie and I had pulled pork and Blaire had the ribs (Jenna is confused as to whether she is a vegetarian or not since she does not like vegetables, she had bread, pickles and fries--healthy we know).  Everything is served as a "sandwich" which means your meats come with pieces of white Wonder bread.  Delicious is an improper adjective, I'm not sure the English language has a word to properly describe our lunch.

Blaire enjoying her last rib---Dad is so proud!

After KC Leslie took the helm for the drive through southern Missouri as I sat in the "office" and worked on files for clients.

Finally around 4:00 we hit the Missouri-Oklahoma border, I was back in my birth state.  I reminded my daughters of their heritage in the state with their dad, uncle, sister, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-grandmother we all born here.

We arrived in Tulsa around 5:00 and I drove past the house where I grew up, told the girls about the first time I rode my bike, and other childhood stories. We then proceeded to our digs for the next few days, the home of my Godmother Ann Lake Wilson and her husband Mickey and proceeded to chat for hours telling stories and letting the kids soak up their family history.

Today we see the sights of Tulsa and more history lessons for Blaire and Jenna.  It has cooled off some and the thermometer may just crease 100 according to one weather report.

It's feels good to be back home in Tulsa and enjoying the people and places.

Camp Ends Part II Begins

Last summer when writing about our first Great American Road Trip I wrote about Camp Birchwood (link here for that blog) and why our girls are in camp in Minnesota.

Last evening the decision to send our girls was validated and for any parent with a daughter at Birchwood I can only say: keep sending them.

Sunday was get-away day at camp, the daily routine of activities broken up by packing bags for home, loading bags onto trucks and buses to be carted off to Minneapolis airport before the camp is awake and saying good-bye.  Sunday was end of session for the campers who were finishing a four week session, as our youngest Jenna was, and those finishing a two week session, as was older daughter Blaire.

The camp tradition for the final night of the session is the senior campers prepare a banquet for the camp and decorate the dining hall.  Last night's theme was Dr. Seuss and remembering how great it is to be a kid.  The seniors were very clever in their decorations and the night was a huge success culminating in awards being presented to campers for their reaching the highest awards in various disciplines, from sailing to archery to wilderness to riflery to riding.

Following the banquet is the final campfire.  For some of the girls, young ladies, it will be their last campfire at Birchwood as their lives take them onto college, jobs, sports team commitments or other pursuits.  The evening is filled with traditional campfire songs, more awards and presentation of honors for those girls who have attended Birchwood for five or ten years.

At the end of the evening Rachel Bredemus, who with husband Terry are the camp directors, lights a candle and invites those senior campers and junior counselors who wish to address the camp to come down and say a few words.  Before relinquishing the candle Rachel addresses the assembly that runs in age from eight year old campers to counselors in their early twenties.  Rachel asks them to reflect on the accomplishments they achieved during the summer at Birchwood, how they have set goals and achieved them, she tells them that life will have disappointments, that their hearts will be broken and there will be challenges but that no one will ever take away their accomplishments so keep striving to build their accomplishments.  She reminded them of the tools they gathered over the summer that will serve them well as they grow in life and become leaders of other young women. The cliche ending to the summer would be a "rah-rah, we love you!" speech, Rachel is not cliche and gave them the truth that life is not all rah-rah and rosy but the knowledge that everyone present has the skills and ability to overcome and continue to achieve no matter what life brings.

Listening to Rachel speak directly to this gathering running from girls to women in age and maturity I thought how fortunate they, and every other girl who has come through Birchwood, were to spend part of their summer, part of their childhood, with Rachel Bredemus and the other staff and campers assembled at Birchwood.  I was so very thankful my own two daughters have been able to be in this environment gaining confidence, learning how to cope with others without mom and/or dad to rescue them or to hide behind, being able to be themselves and just experience great joy throughout their summer.

After Rachel spoke the candle was passed from one speaker to the next, many of them very tearful as they end their time as campers after six, seven, eight years.  Some had some great advice for my daughters and others, one young lady learned how to sail at Birchwood, made her high school team and traveled the world because of sailing, she encouraged the campers to take the skills they learn and see how they can apply them back home; another young women who has been a camper and counselor at other camps told the gathering that Birchwood is a special place where everyone is held to a very high standard and everyone meets it; another speaker who was a camper for several years and has been a counselor for a few more encouraged them to continue to return to Camp Birchwood so they can continue to grow in an environment they cannot find at home.

Rachel Bredemus' ability to teach and nurture leadership, confidence, team work and team building to multiple generations of females all at the same time in the same setting year after year is tremendous.  Her talent shows in the speeches and words of her mentees as they address the next generation of girls to follow.  Every dad should be as fortunate to have someone like Rachel and her staff to be in his daughters' lives as I have been.


After a late bedtime and early wake up Leslie and I walked over to camp this morning to get the girls and begin our trip home.  After watching the first of two large coaches leave the camp filled with sleepy and weepy kids headed home to mom and dad, we piled into the van and started heading south.  It was time for the Smith's to officially begin Part II of the Great American Road Trip 2012.

The ride in the Odyssey was very different than the first 2600 miles--it was filled with chatter, retelling of stories, impromptu songs and an energy of two girls bursting with excitement waiting to tell their parents everything.  As we played 20 questions, learned about their adventures at camp and filled them in on some events they missed while at camp we drove out of the woods of Minnesota and through the cornfields. We got on our first major interstate (US 94) for the first time since we left the 405 in Southern California eight days ago, crossed onto the 35 south and saw the corn fields of Minnesota become the corn fields of Iowa.

Almost ten hours after leaving Camp Birchwood we pulled into our stop for the evening at the Hilton Garden Inn in West Des Moines.  Exhausted, excited and looking forward to our trip home and what we will see on the way.

Our next stop is a big one for me, the girls we be in Oklahoma for the first time, where their dad, uncle, aunt, grandfather, great grandfather and great-great-grandmother were all born.  We will spend the next two nights in Tulsa at the home of my godmother, Ann Lake Wilson and look forward to seeing family and friends--despite the well over 100 degree heat.

Jenna gives me her #1 Dad mug she made!