Tag Archives: photos

Mark Twain, Albert Einstein and an amethyst trouser snake.

 

Tlaquepaque.

No, I didn’t sneeze…. it’s a place.

 

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Granted it’s designed for tourists with money to burn.

 

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But it’s also a lovely warren of shops and cafes…

 

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And a pleasant place to stroll the day away.

 

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(I think this elk was complaining about his decided lack of fluffy butt.)

 

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I could easily have seen that skull on my living room coffee table…

But no.

 

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We saw Mark Twain.

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And a very relaxed Albert Einstein.

 

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(I wanted my other half to take my picture sitting on his lap and giving him a smooch, but again… uncooperative husband.)

 

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Most of the shops were outrageously expensive…

And some of them were down right weird.

 

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This one had fake pink stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

As well as …..

This.

 

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I’m sorry.

 

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But any way you look at it?

 

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That’s an amethyst penis.

(And a very large one at that.)

And if you think my husband was mortified at the thought of me kissing dear old Albert?

You should have seen his face when I made a point of photographing that semi precious love dart.

 

Washouts, floating snakes and a giant potato.

Leaving Winslow, Arizona you see a lot of….

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Until you see these…

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And start looking for a restaurant here…

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We’d heard there was a wonderful place to eat dinner at the Orchard.

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Unfortunately…

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We didn’t bring our white water landing craft.

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This is what happens in Oak Creek Canyon, Arizona when it rains.

And mind you, I’m not talking about torrential downpours. The rain we’d had the night before wouldn’t have been enough to properly soak my garden back home in Maine.

But road after road, and driveway after driveway were impassable.

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Except for snakes.

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Apparently those suckers float right on by.

By the time we got back to Sedona it was dark, and we ended up here.

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A well reviewed steakhouse.

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It was pleasant…

And I was thirsty.

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To hell with doctors orders, I’d been a good girl and was feeling fine.

Prickly pear pomegranite cosmo?

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Come to momma!

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The salads were lovely with fresh local greens, candied pecans, goat cheese and pears with a tangy citrus vinaigrette.

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The yeast rolls with sea salt cultured butter? Light as air…

And yes, I ate 3.

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But the steaks?

Ooh la la!

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My filet mignon with truffle butter was everything you want a steak to be.

Of course for $52 it should be.

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And my baked potato was huge.

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Well, not quite.

But damn…

Now I totally want to go to the potato museum!

Canadian Potato Museum PEI

The Canadian Potato Museum is a living testament to the humble tuber and those who have tilled the soil in its evolution. 

We celebrate all things “potato”.

Highlights include the world’s largest exhibits of potato-related farm machinery, agricultural and Community artifacts and the world’s largest potato sculpture.

The world’s largest potato sculpture?

It doesn’t get much better than that!

Who’s with me?

Great!

B.Y.O.P.

(Bring your own peeler)

A hotel, a rusted camel and some death spoons.

 

When you visit Winslow, Arizona you have to stand on the corner.

But you also have to visit La Posada…

 

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It’s a sprawling old place, rich with history.

 

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Abandoned for years but now lovingly restored and brought back to life.

 

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Southwest colors and Spanish touches abound.

 

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Including some lovely wrought iron…

 

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And a rusted camel.

 

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The interior is a bit of a maze…

 

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With arches….

 

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Bright colors…

 

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Elaborate entrance ways…

 

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And room upon room….

 

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Of antiques…

 

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And funky art.

As well as a giant angry chicken.

 

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Because really, what hotel is complete without one?

 

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The owner is an artist named Tina Mion and her works are scattered throughout the hotel.

 

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Including this mural of suicides.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Take a closer look…

 

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Thinking this was a little odd….

I walked on.

 

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And found these.

 

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Death spoons!

 

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Now you have to admit…

These beat grandma’s Florida gator and Liberty Bell spoons all to Hell!

 

Rocks, Kachinas and naked reflections.

Let’s start with the reflections.

The resort where we were staying had a large master bath which was covered in tile. It also had a whirlpool tub as well as a shower, and the tub was surrounded by mirrors.

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Mind you, it was bad enough having to wake up in the morning and stare at myself sitting on the throne….

But stepping out of the shower and seeing 57 naked reflections of myself?

That’s the stuff of nightmares.

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Yeah.

That’s a whole lotta me.

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Sorry.

Moving on…

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Another trip to Flagstaff meant more red rocks.

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Good point Paul.

And some pretty stupid signs.

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Really?

I always thought they were transparent.

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This one really killed me.

In Maine, we don’t need warning signs for this. We see it as common sense, but like I said…

Arizona is a very different place.

While in Flagstaff, the husband dragged me through a few antique stores. We made it out empty handed until the final stop, where he wanted to buy this.

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Name That Crap.

Go….!

In retaliation, and since I still hadn’t found that special momento to take home, I made him visit the Kachina House.

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For those who don’t know…

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I’d seen these marvelous hand carved beauties at quite a few places…

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And fell in love with all their different stories…

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Most of which I can’t remember….

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But still.

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Aren’t they grand?

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No, I wouldn’t dream of it.

So after being shocked at the prices of Native American jewelry at the other store,  I decided the Mouse Warrior was coming home with me.

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Revered for his bravery and selflessness, the Warrior Mouse staked his own limbs to the ground and offered himself up to a hawk that had been stealing the tribe’s chickens… but our rodent hero ended up killing the dreaded bird of prey instead.

A martyr mouse? I liked it.

What I didn’t like was the $975 price tag.

Bye bye mouse.

I’m told people actively collect Kachinas and have display cases full of them, which would be lovely…. but a wee bit too costly.

So I did what every good tourist lady whose husband was looking over her shoulder does…

I hit the sale table.

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And got a nice piece of hand thrown, hand painted Hopi pottery…

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And an adorable seed pod wall hanging….

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Both signed by well known local Native American artists.

I also cheaped out and bought 3 miniature Kachinas for my desk.

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(Hummingbird, Mud Head and Kokopelli, from left to right.)

Not nearly as nice or intricately carved, but their price tag didn’t make my husband stroke out…. which is always a good thing when you’re on vacation.

It was aptly named….

 

Day 9 of our trip arrived and we headed north west out of Sedona.

 

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Which pretty much looked like this….

 

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For miles on end.

Our destination?

 

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And I was seriously hoping we wouldn’t find the golden arches at the bottom.

It was a little over a 2 hour ride, and then we saw…

 

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Hey, Fred. Long time no see…. say hello to Wilma for us.

And finally, we were there.

 

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The Grand Canyon has always been on the top of husband’s bucket list. Me? Not so much, but he was happy… which made me happy.

And that’s what marriage is all about.

 

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Well, yes.

That too.

Our first stop at the Canyon was the visitors center because…. well…  a 2 hour ride and a quart and a half of Gatorade do not mix.

 

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Naturally, it was closed due to the government shutdown and I had to pee behind a bush. (Not like it was the first time, and no… there aren’t any photos)

Let me take a minute to give a shout out to all the Park Rangers and volunteers who kept the Grand Canyon National Park open for tourists like us who had traveled a long way to be there. We appreciated it.

You rock!

 

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So we walked… and yes, that’s snow.

We came, we saw, we froze.

Like idiots we picked the coldest day of our trip to visit, and it was a good 20 degrees cooler at the canyon due to the elevation.

Windy?

Uh, yeah…..

 

 

But we didn’t care.

 

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We were at the Grand Canyon…

 

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And it was grand.

 

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Yes, it’s a giant hole in the ground….

 

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But oh, what a glorious hole it is.

 

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First stop was Mather’s Point..

 

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Which was pretty spectacular.

 

 

 

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And even though I never really thought I wanted to be there?

 

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Once I was…

 

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I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

 

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I fear I’m going to run out of adjectives long before I run out of pictures.

 

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Because it was just that good!

 

 

 

And though my photos and videos will never do it justice?

I’m going to flood you with them anyway…

It’s what I do.

 

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So… bloggers?

 

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Grand Canyon is coming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ravens, balls, and a giant chicken.

In other words, a post with random photographs that don’t merit their own blog.

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Have I mentioned that driving around Sedona, Arizona is beautiful?

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Well, it is.

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Majestic. Grand. And at times breathtaking …

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Yeah, it really does.

We drove, we explored… and never knew what was around the next bend.

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Sometimes it was giant chickens.

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Other times, rocks that wore hair nets.

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We saw houses built on every imaginable rock ledge..

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And ravens.

Ravens everywhere….

“Often honored among Native American medicine & holy men for its shape-shifting qualities, the Raven was called upon in ritual so that visions could be clarified.  Native holy men understood that what the physical eye sees, is not necessarily the truth, and he would call upon the Raven for clarity in these matters.

Foremost, the Raven is the Native American bearer of magic, and a harbinger of messages from the cosmos.  Messages that are beyond space and time are nestled in the midnight wings of the Raven and come to only those within the tribe who are worthy of the knowledge.”

I don’t know how magical they were… or what message they were bringing.

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But the owner of this truck left his garbage bags in the bed.

Bad idea.

Very bad…

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On the way to Flagstaff,  we crossed a bridge…

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And I saw a giant silver eagle perched on a store filled with Indian jewelry.

I pointed.

I yelped.

I might have squeeeed in delight.

And the husband read my subtle display as a signal to stop.

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The large silver deer was equally as impressive… and then we went inside.

Holy Mother of God…. it was divine! Case after case of stunning Native American silver and stone jewelry from every artist and tribe imaginable. I’d been wanting to bring a nice piece home with me and hit the jackpot here as far as selection. I happily roamed the aisles, eyes bugging out with glee and tried to decide which little lovely would be riding my wrist, finger or ears in the near future.

(No pictures allowed, sorry)

I finally narrowed it down to 3 pieces. Earrings, a ring and a necklace. I could feel the husband sweating from across the room… and I knew the wallet was going to take a hit, but come on. I’m worth it.

You know what? I’m not.

Not even close.

Earrings?  $2,100

Ring?  $3,200

Necklace?  (I think the husband may have fainted as this point)  $5,450

Yeah. For silver.

The prices were enough to make even me gulp.

And leave empty handed.

Now…

Can we talk about balls for a minute?

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I’m seeing balls in every resort we visit.

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Balls in every shape, size, texture and color.

Yes, balls.

I’m not saying this is a bad thing, just wondering why everyone has suddenly jumped on the balls bandwagon.

Random rocks.

Beautiful Ygritte Meme Game of Thrones Fantasy Football Team Names

 

Oh sure, you’re fine if  Jon Snow presents them.

 

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After hiking Red Rocks State Park, we drove around and looked at….

 

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Rocks!

 

 

(Come on, were you really expecting anything else?)

 

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We did pass this….

 

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Whatever this was.

 

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Is he climbing in.. or out?

 

 

Who cares?

It’s weird… and built with red rocks. That’s enough for me.

 

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Yeah, probably.

 

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As we were driving, a storm started brewing…

 

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The eerie kind…

 

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Where the light takes on that spooky, it’s time to rock and roll! hue.

 

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The colors were amazing.

 

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By the time we got to uptown Sedona…

 

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It was raining…

 

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And the pink jeep tour people were wrapped in plastic.

 

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Not really….

Saran Wrap was never my color.

A Red Rocks washout…

 

After our fruitless climb and search for the Apache Fire House, we kept walking.

 

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Trying to avoid my husband’s Kryptonite. Seriously, any interaction with this evil plant sends my other half to the emergency room.

And he gets it everywhere.

Need I say more?

 

 

We walked some easy paths….

 

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And some that lead to benches.

 

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Personally, I think I could have found that without a stone rimmed path… but I’ve always been good with directions.

And in the distance? That damned house we couldn’t find…

I mean, crikey!

It was right there.

 

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But we found interesting tree bark… so smooth and spotted, it almost looked painted.

 

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Yes, that’s how boring these posts have become.

I’m talking about tree bark.

 

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We found a classroom…

 

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Where the husband waited in vain for a teacher.

 

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Then scanned our information leaflet and found another trail that would eventually lead to the Apache Fire House. I said, “Let’s go!”

No ruined shell of a building was going to beat me.

 

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But of course…

 

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It did.

And I learned that the least amount of rain can cause flash floods and washouts in this part of the world.

 

 

 

So I admitted defeat, cursed the house we couldn’t reach…..

 

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And called it a day.

We walked past an outdoor arena…

 

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Back to the visitor center…

 

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Found a hummingbird garden with no hummingbirds….

 

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And a strawberry hedgehog cactus…

That looked nothing like a strawberry or a hedgehog.

 

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Exactly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Red Rocks trail to nowhere….

Entering Red Rocks State Park…

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It was almost 60 degrees.

At what point do you think they remove that sign?

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There was a long bridge…

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Over what we in Maine would call a stream.

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We walked….

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Not always on the trails.

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I spotted part of the Apache Fire House…

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And said wth.

It’s right there, let’s go take a look.

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So we walked on paths.

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And through the woods.

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Sometimes literally.

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We climbed.

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And climbed.

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And climbed.

And I wondered where the hell we were going because it was right there.

When we got near the top of the Apache Fire Trail?

Named for the Apache Fire House?

The damned thing was way the hell on the other side.

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I know!

Somewhere, some evil trail planner was doing this….

Without giving a thought to the poor flatlander lady tourist who had altitude sickness and no booze.

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We climbed up a little higher…

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But still couldn’t get to it.

Yeah. Kind of like that…

Except your feet hurt and you’re out of breath.

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Granted, down was easier than up.

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Probably because I was busy envisioning the trail planner’s fiery demise with every step…

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I hardly even appreciated all the wonderful red rocks.

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My bad.

Red Rock State Park

After a disappointing morning where everything I wanted to see was closed by the shutdown, we ditched the National Sites idea and found a nice (open) fully staffed state park.

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Yes, more rocks.

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Exactly!

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Our first stop was the visitors center,

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Which was a pretty impressive group of rocks in and of itself.

Inside?

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Well…. rocks.

Shocked

But hey… there were fun rocks as well.

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Can you read the petroglyph?

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I’m a little rusty, but I think it says if you follow the river..apply heavy mascara.. do a couple of dizzy Izzy’s.. you’ll find a bug. They also spelled whom incorrectly.

There was information about a rock house…

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And about different rock layers…

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Hang on… this will make you smile.

There was a photographic middle finger to tease me with the places we tried to go that morning but couldn’t.

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Rude rocks.

That’s different, right?

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Damn. This is a tough crowd…

But look.

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There were bugs!

Apparently my glyph translating skills weren’t as rusty as I’d thought.

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Heading back outside, we found a rock hummingbird that seemed to be pointing me towards….

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A big Prickly Pear cactus….

From whence all wonderful margaritas grow.

*sob*

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Did I mention there were rocks?

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And they were red?

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Some even looked like giant eyeballs.

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I spotted the Apache Fire House off in the distance…

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While the husband read the history and laughed that the couple divorced before it was finished.

I laughed harder because the wife got the house.

And then we started hiking…

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