Spring Break

The week that is just now ending is my school district's spring break.  So, I took the boys, Anselm and Basil on a road trip to the Grand Canyon.  At 6:30 a.m. on Tuesday we left San Jose, heading south on U.S. Highway 101.  Our first destination was the cemetery in Paso Robles where their oldest brother is buried.  Every time I go to his grave I find flowers, or beer, or a flag someone has left there.  This time was no exception.  There was a flag left by someone.  I don't know who. 

We prayed for Billy and then ate sandwiches I had prepared for the journey. The sandwiches were tri-tip I had grilled with a garlic/salt/black pepper rub on Monday, dijon mustard, blue cheese from Point Reyes, and pickled peppers on an Acme sour baguette.

From Paso Robles we drove east on state road 46.  Its the road James Dean died on. Our destination , on the other side of the San Joaquin Valley, was Bakersfield.

In Bakersfield we stopped at the church my Dad built in 1953.  It was good to tell my boys about their grandfather and show him one of his accomplishments.  I told related to them a sermon I heard him preach in the 1970s in which he told about having a nervous breakdown while pastoring there.  It head to do with a self winding watch.  While he was strapped to the hospital bed he couldn't move and the watch stopped running.  The point he made in the sermon I heard, and what I related to my sons was that the Christian life requires exercise.  If we do not exercise the faith God gives us it won't do what it is supposed to to.

From Bakersfield we drove over Tehachapi Pass  and across the Mojave Desert on 58.  We stopped in Barstow, passed the giant boron mine and 20-Mule Team Road, got stuck in a sand storm and had to pull over at a rest stop, then into Nevada. It was the first time Basil had been out of California.

Just across the state line we took a little detour down a side road, pulled over, took out a rifle, and shot at a red solo cup about 40 yards way.  I  guess we went through about 100 rounds.  It was fun but we had to keep going so we hopped back in the car and headed to Las Vegas.

We checked into our hotel, The Eastside Cannery, dropped of our bags, put the rifle in their safe, then went to the big Bass Pro Shops on Las Vegas Boulevard where we saw a sturgeon leap out of a tank and taxadermied everything, even a giraffe.  We took advantage of the more relaxed legal environment of Nevada and bought a bunch of ammo.  I bought several boxes of buckshot while Anselm bought 1,000 rounds of .22 hollow points.

Then we went to Cracker Barrel for dinner.  I hadn't been to a Cracker Barrel since the mid 1980s.  It was the boy's first time.   Of course, I had chicken livers and I introduced the boys to hashbrown casserole.  I think they fell in love.

The next morning we checked out about 7, went to the Longhorn for a breakfast of pancakes and country fried steak, then on to Hoover Dam.  We wanted to go on the tour but they wouldn't let us park the car because of the rifle in the car. (I called the White house to complain about that.)  So we just went on our way.

In Kingman, Arizona we stopped for a while and went to the Route 66 Museum. (Yes, I know. I've talked about Route 66 before.) and looked at some turquoise jewelry.  I really wanted a Navajo-made bolo tie but I din't want it as much as they wanted to charge for it.

Then we headed to the Grand Canyon.  On the way, as the terrain turned from desert to forest, we hit a hail storm.  The hail was blowing across the highway like snakes. We checked into the Yavapai Lodge, then went a looked at the canyon.  Then it started snowing.  While walking around on the top of the canyon we saw many elk, some were just a few feet away from us, one big cow was close enough to touch, but we were smart enough not to try.  After a looking at the canyon and going to the geological museum we went back to the lodge were we ate elk for supper.  It was good.

The next morning we checked out at 6:30 and began the drive home.  We stopped in Kingman again, but this time to eat breakfast at another Cracker Barrel, where I bought divinity and a pecan log for Kathleen's children.  As we approached the Colorado River we took a little detour up to Golden Shores to buy gasoline before crossing into California and having to pay much higher tax.

One of the fun things about this trip was seeing all the trains.  Some of them had 5 or six engines and a hundred or more cars.  Most of the cars were flatbeds loaded with containers nearing the names of big ship lines such as Cosco and Maersk.  I guess they had been offloaded at the Port of Long Beach or the Port of Los Angeles and were bound for all points east.  I encouraged Basil to think about becoming a locomotive engineer since the best training program for that career is right here in California, and it is a perfect job for people who don't enjoy having to interact with a lot of people.  I hope he gives it serious consideration.

We didn't drive all the way over to Hwy 101 but turned north at Interstate 5 (Lots of new orchards have been planted.!) so the boys could see Harris Ranch (aka Cowschwitz) where their food comes from, and then went over the Diablo Mountains at Pacheco Pass.  It was late so we didn't stop at Casa de Fruta.  We were home before midnight.