Vacation

Harry Freaking Potter

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It turns out that there’s a couple of sections of a major theme park in Orlando, Fla., mocked up to look like locations in the Harry Potter novels. And because Abby has turned into a Harry Potter nerd in the last year and Gina has been a Harry Potter nerd since sometime in the ’90s, they hatched the idea to go to this theme park for spring break this year. I’m not a Harry Potter nerd, but this is my payback for making them go to Big Bend last year. They even convinced the aunts Jodie and Katie to come with us.

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Abby has been agitating to go on a plane for three or four years and she finally got her chance. She had her fancy matching luggage and carryon so she was pretty adorable making her way through the Hell of the airport. When the miracle happened and the plane lifted off she nearly flipped her lid. “This is so cool,” she was almost trembling with excitement. She knows I don’t like to fly. She kept looking over and saying “You’re scared, aren’t you.” And then laughing manically.

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So we got to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and I admit it was pretty neat what with the rides and the recreation of Hogwarts and fictional London.

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The first stop was the wand shop to get our interactive wands, which are used to make things move in various areas of the park. Picking out just the right wand is a laborious process.

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Abby worked out the kinks with some help from a passing witch and then gave me some spell-casting instruction.

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They like to keep things authentic at TWWOHP, even down to having an actual giant as the maitre de at the Three Broomsticks tavern.

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On the second or third day (it’s easy to lose track of time in paradise) we hit a giant water park with some major league water slides. I commonly deride water parks as merely big tanks of pee, but I really enjoy a good waterslide. After this place, I’ll never be able to go to Wild Urine Country again.

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We hit the fictional London locale Diagon Alley at night, which is not to be missed. It made for some cool photos except for the people standing shoulder to shoulder in every inch of the place.

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A giant dragon was perched on the roof of the Gringotts Bank building and every 10 minutes it belched a massive flame blast.

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People would line up just before the flame time and hold their phones up to video the spectacle in the horribly wrong vertical orientation. I lined up a great shot of them and that jackass in the striped shirt walked in front of me right when the flame went off.

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We ate some great food.

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We got some exotic hair accessories.

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We rode the Hogwarts Express a few times.

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We acted silly.

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And on the last day while killing time before we had to be at the airport we ate at what must be ground zero for the Orlando hipster scene, Yellow Dog Eats. It had this awesome VW Bus photo area out back.

San Francisco – Day 5

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We kicked off our final day in San Francisco with a completely excellent breakfast at MyMy Coffee Shop before heading out to return a lens I had rented for the week. Our next destination was famously crooked Lombard Street. It was a mile or so from the camera shop so we decided to walk.

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It turns out the non-famous side of the street is one of those super-steep affairs. The UPS drivers must be used to it from the way they just park in the street. I guess those trucks have space-age parking brakes.

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This was the scene that greeted us when we finally topped the hill. Tourist insanity. Cars line up to wait for the crowd to part so they can slowly make their way down, down, down the block.

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The downhill end of the street is just as tourist packed as the top. It wasn’t a great time of the day to get a decent photo and anyway it’s impossible to get a shot without tourists in it. I was lucky to get one with only a couple people in it.

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We sorta wandered around for the rest of the afternoon and had a semi-bad dining experience at a very expensive restaurant. Gina kept trying until she got an excellent steak. Mine sucked. I should have sent it back. Then we headed down for another go at China Town just before dark. This shot is looking east down California Street. That’s one of the towers of the Bay Bridge way out there.

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San Francisco – Day 4

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We got a hugely generous offer from my cousin Anne, who lives near Napa, to give us a tour of the Napa Valley wine country and show us the sights and be our designated driver. We got up early and rolled down to the historic Ferry Building to catch a ferry across the bay. Unfortunately, the sunburns and the long bicycle ride from the day before left us feeling less than 100 percent. Neither one of us felt like going on a daylong-wine-drinking spree, so we were pretty low-key.

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We hit the winery owned or partially owned or formerly owned by the great movie director Francis Ford Coppola. The place had quite a bit of Hollywood memorabilia on display and a bizarrely huge collection of vintage magic lanterns.

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The valley is beautiful and the vineyards are very picturesque, but the sun was straight up, making outdoor photography pretty tough. Besides, I was pretty out of it due to the highly uncomfortable sun burn and I didn’t try very hard. Anne took us to a great little restaurant for lunch and we had a fun visit.

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On the way back to the hotel in the mid-afternoon we passed a LEICA camera store and I had to stop in and check out the cameras I will never be able to afford. Wow. I’ve never been in a more customer-unfriendly store. All the merchandise is behind glass and the decor is pretty stark and intimidating. A few LEICA Menâ„¢ were standing around discussing how LEICA cameras were on the verge of curing cancer. The sales staff could clearly tell I was out of my element and didn’t even bother to offer any assistance.

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One thing I wanted to see on this trip was Pacific Ocean waves crashing on jaggedy black rocks, so we headed down to the imaginatively named Ocean Beach on the west side of the city. It was on the trip out there that we discovered the ride-sharing service Uberâ„¢. It was a revelation. No more frustrating mass-transit rides for us. You just use a phone app to request a car and one shows up in less than five minutes. The fare comes straight of your credit card so there’s no hassle of paying the driver. Most drivers even refuse an extra tip, saying the tip is built into the fare. Uberâ„¢ was having some kind of sale in which fares were 25% off. On top of that we got a few discounts for being first-time Uberâ„¢ users. We took Uberâ„¢ cars several times during the next two days and a couple of those trips were totally free.

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We wandered around the corner to the south side of the bay where we could see the western side of the Golden Gate Bridge. I had done a poor job of planning and I had it in my mind that the bridge would be closer. There’s a hiking trail that runs all the way to the bridge but it was something like two miles and we just didn’t have that in us.

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We made our way down to the water’s edge and I got a few sunset/beachy/rocky photos.

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Then we watched the sun sink into the Pacific Ocean. A first for us. We even caught the green flash as the sun slipped out of view.

The Sun Burns Just The Same In California

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We saw all these bike-rental outfits advertising bicycle tours of the Golden Gate Bridge and we thought it was a brilliant idea. The way it works is you pick up your bike at wherever, ride it along a dedicated bike path on the bay to the GGB, across the GGB and into Sausalito. After a couple hours of suffering Sausalito sticker shock you roll your bike onto a ferry and ride it across the bay and drop off your bike. It’s about 8 miles of bike riding. It is such a great idea that approximately 97% of tourists in the city at any one time are also doing it. At times it feels like you are in the pelaton of the Tour de France. Except you are going much, much slower. At the bike rental place I asked Gina if she thought sunscreen was in order. Despite it being light-jacket temperatures the sun was high and bright. “Nah, I don’t think so,” Gina inexplicably replied. “OK,” I replied with equal inexplicability.

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We made the 5 miles to the beginning of the bridge and I had shed my jacket and could feel my tender pink arms and face sizzling. I knew by then that it was most likely going to be bad. I had been on the lookout for any kind of store that might carry sunscreen but the bike path stayed in mostly parks and residential areas, so I was SOL on that front.

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Somehow I made this picture and the bike/walking path looks reasonably uncrowded. I can assure you it was not. We spent most of the time kinda straddling and walking the bikes. The pushing from behind from other riders was so intense that I didn’t feel like I could stop and really enjoy the bridge. One cool thing is that while we were on the bridge there was some kind of filming going on of racing boats in the bay. A helicopter with one of those gyroscopic cameras on the front flew under the bridge a couple of times from the ocean side capturing a big group of power boats heading under the bridge at top speed.

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We finally made it across and down into Sausalito where apparently a lot of rich folks hang. We checked a marina full of huge yachts and then made our way onto the ferry. These houses are on the hillside in Sausalito overlooking the bay.

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Being of the sea, I was pretty fascinated by the giant ocean-going vessels plying the waters of the bay like this one that the ferry eventually passed behind at about 100 yards.

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We got a pretty great view of the ship as we passed by.

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We also passed pretty close to Alcatraz. By this time we were feeling the effects of the sunburn. The last time I got burned that bad was 7 years ago in Destin when I went out into the waves and the gallons of sunscreen I had applied evidently got pounded off in the waves and I didn’t have enough sense to reapply before lounging on the beach for a couple of hours. It hurt. After we returned our bikes we didn’t even feel like going out to eat. We just stopped at a Walgreens to get premade sandwiches and sunburn medication before going back to the hotel to crash.

San Francisco – Day 2

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We kicked off day 2 by buying our three-day pass to the SF mas transit system, which includes the iconic cable cars. It was foggy and drizzly and cool enough to require a jacket.

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We rode a cable car to near Fisherman’s Wharf and headed over to Pier 39 to see the famous sea lions that gather there.

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The wharf area is where most of the local commercial boat traffic in the San Francisco Bay originates. Lots of fishing boats, ferries and tourist craft around.

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It was also a good spot to see Alcatraz, despite the obscuring fog. We didn’t learn about the insane demand for Alcatraz tours until a couple months before our trip. By then it was too late to get a ticket. So we didn’t make it to Alcatraz. I can’t decide which photo I like better.

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The wharf area is also home to the National Park Service Maritime Historical Park, which boasts several full-size historic ships.

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While touring one of the ships the fog began to lift and we got our first glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge.

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Gina was more interested in the bridge than the ship.

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After hanging around the wharf until well into the afternoon, we eventually made our way to the BART line headed out to the Mission District because Gina had a line on some good Mexican food. We didn’t rent a car because we planned on using the various mass transit options, but we found the city’s mass transit system sort of difficult to use. San Francisco is served by a mish-mash of regular buses, electric buses, cable cars, trolley cars, light rail, subway and even ferries. And we found that most of the time we had to walk several blocks at one or both ends of a trip. At one point we got on a light rail car powered by overhead electric lines that moseyed along a street stopping at regular stoplights. Then the train stopped and like a Transformerâ„¢ the cars retracted their electric poles and the exit steps raised up to form a level exit platform. The cars started again and dove underground and kicked on the afterburners going about 20 times faster. The next stop was on a subway platform.

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After supper, as I was photographing this mural an older homeless woman came up to us and demanded a money “in the name of God.” Gina gave her a couple bucks and then she turned her guns on me, refusing to believe me when I insisted I didn’t have any cash. She pulled up her shirt to reveal a truly massive scar running down her entire torso and then pulled up one of her pant legs to show another giant scar. That was enough for me, but she also showed us a scar on her arm. I tried to give her $5 bill and she saw I had a $10 and she decided she wanted it “in the name of God” even if she had to make change. She was going to give me $7 in change and she didn’t care that that would leave her with less money than if she just kept the $5. I ended up giving her the $10 and she finally wandered off. She wasn’t the only super aggressive panhandler we encountered. Gina was full-on accosted by a man who pelted her with profanity when she didn’t any attention to him. He wouldn’t let up and I finally ended up nearly screaming at him to back off, which he did.

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The downtown area has some nice buildings.

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The view from our hotel window.

Return To The Bend – Day 5

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For our last day in Big Bend we went on sort of an aimless ramble over to Lajitas and drove a short distance down the River Road in Big Bend Ranch State Park. We came across the “ghost town” of Contrabando, which is actually a defunct movie set. We had the place all to ourselves. This church facade is probably the most interesting building there. The town sits right on the bank of the Rio Grande and if you stop for moment and let the atmosphere settle around you it really feels like the border circa 1880.

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This might be the greatest sign ever. It sits on the outskirts of Terlingua on the road to the west entrance of Big Bend National Park. I mean, you can’t beat free water and hundreds of wind chimes. I imagine the person who painted it spent awhile planning out where they would place each come on for maximum effect. Then they started at the top left and after maybe a whole day of painting finally finished at the bottom right. Then when they finished the job and stood back to admire it, reading from top to bottom, sighed deeply and said, “Screw it. I’m not fixing it. Spell check wouldn’t have even caught it.” I’m sure they’ve endured endless ribbing from the other townfolk.

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Late that afternoon I went back to the Terlingua Ghost Town hoping to catch a magnificent sunset over the cemetery. The ghost town is full of roofless abandoned adobe buildings. My awe-inspiring sunset was a no-show again, but I did get to make more sunburst effects as it went down.

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Many of the cemetery’s graves are elaborately decorated with figurines, flags, money, beads, and empty alcoholic-drink containers.

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With the sunset a bust a searched around looking for anything eye catching. Nearly every grave played host to clear glass jars used to hold candles. Just before I lost the light I noticed how the jars glowed in the golden rays of the fading sun. I then frantically scrambled around looking for the most photogenic jar. I thought this one fit the bill nicely.

Return to the Bend – Day 4

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We kicked off the morning by making the short hike into Boquillas Canyon fully expecting to see Victor The Singing Mexican standing on the far bank crooning something in Spanish. Instead we found Jesus The Singing Mexican on the American side setting out his trinkets for sale to the tourists.

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Just across the river is the tiny village of Boquillas del Carmen, which was once a must-visit destination for Big Benders. Tourists would board a flat-bottomed boat to be ferried over to a burro wrangler in Mexico. A short burro ride later, the tourists would drink and eat and shop in a pretty authentic desert village. Robert Earl Keen even wrote a great song about the whole thing.

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Here I am in full mullettude back in 1992 when I made the crossing with my dad, my uncle and cousin. My dad is the guy directly behind the pirate. See that colorful hat on the boat captain’s head? Dad would shortly trade his Nick Nolte Extreme Prejudice style cowboy hat for it. After the events of my 32nd birthday the government clamped the border shut and, since Boquillas is literally in the middle of nowhere, the little town just about died. A few hardy souls like Victor hung on and would daily sneak across the border and put out a few wares to get some much-needed cash flow into the village. I don’t think the authorities worried much about these people causing trouble.

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Last year the border crossing was finally reopened in an effort to restore a fun tourist experience and to help out the people of Boquillas. It doesn’t really have that scruffy feel anymore because you have to have a passport and go through customs. We didn’t plan far enough ahead to get passports so we didn’t make the river crossing. Despite the border crossing being open, many people still cross the river from Boquillas to sell their handicrafts. Life is hard down on the border so I won’t pile on about this merchant’s abuse of the apostrophe s.

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Jesus told us that Victor had taken his show back to Boquillas, leaving him with the gig.

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I had a thing for dogs there for a couple of days. This one had just swum the Rio Grande and he stopped to pose while his owner set up shop along the trail.

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We didn’t really go to Big Bend. I shot all the photos at home using a green screen.

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After leaving the Rio Grande Village area, we headed up into the Chisos Basin to grab some lunch and hike the Lost Mine Trail. Gina and I hiked this trail back in 1996 and I didn’t remember it being all that strenuous despite it’s being very uphill. I guess my memory is faulty, because it was pretty tough. Abby and Gina made it without a single complaint, though. (I need a sarcasm mark for the end of that sentence.) We hit right during the middle of the day and the sun was just too sunny for good photography.

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The trail tops out after 2.75 miles and 1,200 feet of elevation gain right on a narrow ridge separating two canyons that lead out of the mountains and into the desert. At roughly 7,000 feet elevation the views south toward Mexico are pretty spectacular. This photo is view of Casa Grande to the northwest. This was the beginning of a short love affair with that sunburst effect. Going back down was much easier, but still it was 5.5 miles. The longest hike Abby has ever made. And, despite her insistence to the contrary on the way up, it didn’t kill her.

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These last are both views of Pine Canyon and the South Rim of the Chisos Mountains. They look pretty terrible in color, but I think black and white captured the moment so nicely.

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When we got back to the car, I had a particular sunset photo in mind, but it was too late when I got the location. But I did find a fellow nearby shooting the sunset with a 4×5 large-format-film camera, Ansel Adams style. He graciously arranged his rig so that I could get a shot of what he was seeing on his ground glass.

Return to the Bend – Day 3

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We got word early in the morning that someone had held up the evening stage in Terlingua so we put together a posse to find the culprit and string him up. Unfortunately, our posse leader just took us through an area of old mine tailings, a historical dump and an abandoned golf course. The robber got away.

Awesome horse riding sound and you can hear how impressed I am with the posse leader’s tales of past exploits.

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Posse Assistant Joe gave us all some training on how to steer a horse. Yes, I know I pretty much look like Teddy Roosevelt in his Rough Rider days. Joe was on the front porch of the stables working on writing a new song when we pulled up.

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Abby had been beside herself for days in anticipation of going riding. The posse organizer made her wear a helmet, but by all indications, she had a great time.

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The posse leader (whose name I can’t remember) had a specific order in which we had to ride and the horses were not to pass each other. She didn’t tell us, but we were not to dismount the horses, either. Gramps found out about that secret rule the hard way. That put me behind Abby and I exclusively got shots of her back while she was riding.

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I did somehow manage to get a nice horseback portrait of Gramps.

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This dog greeted us every morning at the duplex. We took to calling him Morning Dog. Gina liked him so much that when she got home she invented an imaginary dog named scout based on Morning Dog. Except Scout wears a bandanna around his neck.

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That evening we went to the Starlight Theater, the hub of the local tourist industry, located at a historic abandoned mining village known as Terlingua Ghost Town. The restaurant/performance hall and associated souvenir store is just funky enough to not scare the tourists away while keeping the locals coming back.

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The place has a few works by local artists for sale.

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This is a confusing situation because a couple days later in the town of Lajitas we saw a live goat in a pen with a sign proclaiming it as “Clay Henry the mayor of Lajitas”. Some research reveals that this is the original Clay Henry and he’s had an interesting go of it in both life and death.

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I don’t know this duo’s name, but I saw the guitar player playing a coffee can on the front porch of the store on our first day in town. He must really love music.

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I had a filet with some sort of demi glace and mashed potatoes and a locally brewed beer. I gave the meal the extremely rare Golden FPW. It was that good.

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Terlingua seems to have a certain type of dog – very laid back, but looking like they are very experienced. I’m sure they all have tangled with a skunk or two and rolled around in the carcass of a road-killed deer and narrowly escaped a rattlesnake bite. See that our-of-focus guitar player in the background? That’s Joe from the posse mentioned earlier. He said he had played his new song and had gotten compliments on it. I’m sorry I missed it.

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Behind the store and restaurant in the ghost town proper, there’s an old Catholic church that is still in use. It’s got great details.

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A minute before I took this shot the entire sky was on fire. I was too busy jacking around and missed it.

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Return to the Bend – Day 2

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Our second day in the desert got off to an inauspicious start. We made the long drive over to Dagger Flat in hopes that a sea of yucca would be in full magnificent bloom. We’d seen many yuccas blooming in some areas of the park so I had high hopes. After a jouncey seven-mile drive on a dirt track we broke through into the flat and ….. nothing. The big bloom hadn’t started yet. So it was back to the drawing board. We headed over to the Grapevine Hills to hike the short trail through a geologic wonderland. Nana and Gramps had other plans so we didn’t catch up with them until later. It being midday, the light was harsh so the photography wasn’t that great.

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The little mountain range is the remains of an eroded igneous intrusion. It’s littered with all manner of red flaky boulders. The first mile was a nice stroll on a well-beaten, flat path, but the final quarter mile was a pretty decent climb. In the warmer parts of the year the little valley is probably a furnace, but we had a nice day with temps in the lower 80s. The area looks like a classic place for the hero in a cowboy picture to get trapped by wild Comanches. Abby was dying to see some javelinas and she finally got her chance. They were sneaking around in the brush around a spring so I couldn’t get a picture.

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Abby used her binoculars to watch for Indians. Note how she leaned up against a rock to keep from sky-lining herself and becoming an easy target. Louis L’Amour would have been proud.

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The payoff at the end of the trail is this balancing rock situation and a magnificent view of the untrammeled desert beyond.

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The ocotillo or Devil’s buggy whip was putting on a show across the park. A veritable forest of the thorny plants grows near the west entrance to the park. I went out there at sunset hoping to get a great sunset I could silhouette the branches and flowers against. The sunset was a dud so I did the best I could. The wind was blowing hard, causing the stems to sway and blurring most of the flowers. Right at dark a bunch of humming birds descended on flowers, so that was pretty neat.

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Return To The Bend – Day 1

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Things got weird there for a bit, but we finally pulled a the trigger on a return trip to Big Bend National Park for this year’s Spring Break. I’ve been to Big Bend 4 times now. Gina has been 3 and this was Abby’s first trip. All the previous trips involved camping for multiple nights inside the park. This time we decided to go the radical route of staying in some sort of fixed lodging in Terlingua, a tiny town just outside the the western entrance to the park.

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I found this weird sign draped over a pile of junk in Grandfalls, Texas. A tiny burg a couple of hours north of the park.

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Gina somehow discovered the duplexes offered by the Chisos Mining Company. We were placed in the Mesa View unit on the outskirts of town. My Mom and Dad rented the other side of the duplex. The place was fantastic. A bedroom, bath, kitchen and sitting area. Plenty big, quiet and way more comfortable than camping even in Daisy. I recommend the place, but don’t go thinking it’s going to be like the condo you always rent at the beach on the Redneck Riviera. CMC also offers traditional motel rooms along with small cabins in an area they call Easter Egg Valley. We didn’t go inside any of those, but based on how they look from outside, I’d avoid relying on them for your lodging needs.

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The pastel colors are a thing with the CMC properties.

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Needing to kill some time until Nana and Gramps rolled into town, we headed up to the Terlingua Ghost Town to check out the famous pickin’ porch. Stand by for more on this quaint tourist draw in a later post.

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We got soon got word that Nana and Gramps were running later than expected so we headed into the park and down to the trail that runs into the downstream end of Santa Elena Canyon. The canyon is one of three seriously deep canyons inside the park carved by the Rio Grande. The walls at the exit of the canyon are 1,500 feet tall from the river.

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From the end of the canyon the river heads out across the Chihuahuan Desert.

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We finished off the day watching a magnificent sunset.