Day Twelve: Zion National Park, Utah

This morning we departed Barstow, after pillaging and ransacking their delightful breakfasting area, replete with all manner of upscale hotel breakfast fodder, of a decidedly non-continental nature. We ran straight into a surprisingly vicious desert rainstorm. Impressive winds and quite a downpour, but we were heading east and in no mood to remain perpetually in bad weather so we powered through. Once out of the rain, driving was a bit less tense, but the clouds were treacherously low and brooding. Took a picture or two of the yucca trees and the low-lying clouds:



And the clouds over this mesa were interesting:



We finally crossed out of California, that beloved, though ape-shit crazy state of my nativity, and passed into Nevada. Nevada is the sort of state that would be a bland, uninteresting ranching state like Idaho without gambling, and one can spot any highway border with Nevada by the unspeakably garish gambling settlement planted inches from the actual state line. No, I didn't take any pictures.

But we drove through Vegas, which I've never been profoundly fond of, and the traffic and omnipresent advertising did little to win me over, but we had one last In-N-Out burger there and enjoyed the less-expensive-than-California gasoline. Cheers to Angle, though!

Next up, the corner of Arizona, a state I've come to be rather fond of. Not much of it to see when chipping the northwest corner on I-15, but the Virgin River Gorge is impressive. We took copious photos while passing through but none really display the massiveness one observes, deep in this rather narrow chasm, hurtling through at 55mph. Here's one such insignificant shot.



Then into Utah, home of the Momos! On highway 9, getting close to Zion:



Beautiful ridges on the outskirts:



So we checked into our hotel, and after unpacking, I took my laptop onto the balcony to work on my work emails. This was the view from my "desk":



Also from the balcony:



The family went for a swim. Nice view from a swimming pool:



Gretchen loves swimming, need to start this girl on swimming lessons.



Sun starts to set...



Gretchen loved the horses next door!



I decided to grill, so we picked up some italian sausages and peppers to cook, and I headed back towards the picnic area. They had a little spot right next to the river:



Nice backdrop to cook by.

Day Eleven: Barstow, California

So today's travel blog is a bit of a mixed bag. Relatively boring day, driving through the central part of California from the coast, but will get to that later. First, some few remaining pictures from San Simeon yesterday.

At sunset the trees were well illuminated:



This cluster of trees caught my eye:



We were working on tiring Gretchen out by having her play outside, so we spent some time in this gazebo.



Where she took on as her task the predation, decapitation, and dismemberment of dandelion flowers.



Another walk by the beach:



The surf at dusk:



Signs are posted everywhere about not feeding the wildlife but something tells me the surprisingly tame squirrels have sorted out how to game the system.



And here is the same fellow leaping for the jugular vein in rage as he learns I have been coaxing him near with a proferred hand of naught more than pebbles. Gretchen follows my lead, in her less subtle way, by picking up pebbles and throwing them at the squirrel who wisely decides to make acquaintance with tourists more amenable to breaking the posted rule.



OK, back to the trip. We passed a delightful night that evening until about 2AM when Gretchen decided that WOW she was sure AWAKE! and wanted to do anything but keep quiet and go back to sleep. We eventually went on a drive which at long last put her to sleep again, and we got some more sleep. It was nice to see the ocean under a full moon, very entrancing, particularly when one is yearning for sleep anyway.

So this morning we got off and passed inland towards Paso Robles, Bakersfield, and Barstow. Paso Robles is a nice area dominated by vineyards, and we noted a large quantity of "report drunk driving!" signs which became a bit funnier when interspersed with the dozens/hundreds of "Wine Tasting Next Right!" signs put out by the vineyards.

Bakersfield is a nice enough town, it's a decent size and seems to have lots of the accoutrements of a medium-sized city, such as a Trader Joe's, which we gave our patronage, but try as it might to be cosmopolitan, the air smells of cattle manure. Not an altogether bad thing, it is likely better smelling than vast swathes of New York or Paris. At least there is the sense of old-fashioned farming and ranching there.

Tehachapi was cute, particularly the huge hills of the Tehachapi Wind Farm and the hundreds of windmills, precious few of which were turning. I wonder what it cost the Californian taxpayer to put in. I wonder how much each year the bill is for maintenance. I like to amuse myself with the thought that when proposing the initiative, none of the dingbat lawmakers responsible bothered to consider much in regards to ongoing maintenance costs, but I could be wrong.

Finally, we passed Barstow and went on a dozen miles to Calico, a ghost town/theme park I remember from many years ago. We didn't actually spend a lot of time there. Strangely there were mostly foreigners there, like at the Grand Canyon. Whole busses full of Japanese, and a number of German and French visitors were audible. It's a quaint sort of thing because you pay for admission, and then most everything inside is a shop where you can buy things. If you can work out paid admission to a shopping mall and get busloads of foreign folks eager to deplete travellers checks in your retail stores you've got on to a good thing.

The famous CALICO written in the hillside:


Walking up to the rock shop to buy a piece of amethyst:


Very interesting rock formations, layers of sedimentary rock obviously contorted and squeezed:

Day Ten: San Simeon, California

Yesterday after bidding fond farewells and heartfelt yet insignificant thanks to our hosts/relatives in Diamond Bar, we drove up the coast. Up being in a northerly direction, I should probably specify. But we took a brief stop in Solvang, where we discovered the place has been increasingly o'erwhelmed by tourists such that the wait for a plate of pancakes has become somewhat ludicrous. I grant that Solvang has always existed for no higher purpose than tourism and pancakes, but still, we gave it a miss this time, and I vowed instead to learn how to make my own sodding Danish pancakes.

We landed, so to speak, in our usual haunt on the central coast, the San Simeon Pines resort. It was spitting in a weird Californian way all day, a totally different sort of rain than we are used to in Missouri, where it either is raining or isn't, but a limbo-esque rain that leaves you perpetually neither quite wet nor quite dry. Across the street for a brief walk to the ocean:



It's quite nice there even in worse weather. The sun peeking out over on the left; the rays shooting through had a very nice effect.



Playing the "throw a rock towards the ocean and then panic when the waves come up to get your precious rock" game. We're still learning the precise rules of this game.



On the boardwalk by the sea.



Playing in the largest sandbox she has ever seen. Hopefully with less cat poop.



The pines for which the place is named are quite interesting in shape.



This morning we went to what is the coolest playground I've ever seen. A few feet to the beach!



She (Gretchen, I should specify) loves getting close to the waves and then running away. Although she will occasionally insist on being carried for extra safety.



Sand sampling!



The "puppy" was less able to quickly move away from incoming waves.



Back at the resort, we stayed at a little vending machine lobby while folks finished cleaning our room, and Gretchen took it upon herself to correct the egregious errors made by the folks in charge of decorating. If you can imagine, they had placed the three flower pots on three SEPARATE tables! Hah! And hadn't even so much as placed a plastic bead necklace over the pots! Amateurs.



Then after grabbing a pizza in town we went up the coast to see the elephant seals.

Day Eight: TANKLAND

We drove out to visit some more family in sunny Rancho Cucamonga today, which is just a fun thing to say, and Gretchen was much pleased to see and somewhat harass a pair of large labradors. From there, the 210 and the 57/60 led us past South El Monte and........TANKLAND!

The American Military Museum (as far as I can tell that is its official name, generic though it may be) is a wunderland for those few of us geeky enough to seek out armoured vehicle museums in their travels. As a child I wanted our family to head east to visit the US Army Ordnance Museum in at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. But this is a good first step.

I was on, if not Cloud Nine, then one of the Clouds at least above level Four, conservatively speaking.



The family very sportingly came with. Gretchen was particularly fascinated with the quality and grading of the rocks, gravel, and dirt with which the outdoor museum was lavishly furnished.



Nice little amphibious armoured car whose name escapes me. Lou? Henrik?



A trio of Shermans, the workhorse of Patton's Third Army and the most iconic American tank of WWII.



The miscellaneous ordnance section...bombs, missiles, rocket launchers, torpedoes, and marine mines.



The landing craft and marine section, with the family. Gretchen taking another sample of the absolute exquisite El Monte dirt!



Patton tanks, an M48 and some later models.



The working quarters of a very large self-propelled howitzer piece.



...and the rest of the same.



A Bofors emplacement! Probably from a scrapped battleship or similar vessel, definately a naval emplacement from a ship likely of the WWII era. Quad 40mm autocannons for anti-aircraft.



I don't recall the details on this similar anti-aircraft naval emplacement but it looks like twin 30mm autocannons, and I love the fact that its enclosed and has windshield wipers on the front. I wonder if the replacement blades for the wipers are a standard size they can get at an automotive shop. More likely they are contract made for $300 each!



Pretty substantive fixed gun nestled into the corner of a museum.



The Priests lined up.



Another Bofors!



And a northward pointing big fella waiting to shell El Monte Proper, apparently.



Bren Carrier and my daughter. A bit smaller and it be perfect size for her!



An old 30's era "Combat Car" and a Chi-Ha mockup.



M50 Ontos, without its characteristic array of recoilless rifle tubes.



The M5 Stuart, a capable American light tank that served in WWII, and probably beyond.



M551 Sheridan, an interesting vehicle with a missile launching tube, essentially, for a main gun, and mostly aluminum armour for lighter weight, designed to be airdropped, seeing some service in Viet Nam.



Daughter satisfied with face-applicated soil samples.



Pak36, a German anti-tank gun in 37mm. Small little unit, probably easily transported, though outclassed by heavier, later tanks.



Motorcycle and a row of Willys jeeps and other trucks.



What EVERYONE needs! A MORTAR SHED!



Long suffering fam in front of a nice, I think British, armoured car on the way out.