Categories
Just Shelley Travel

See you in St. Louis

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to pack I go.
No time for sleep
I’ve a schedule to keep
And movers to hold if I’m slow.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to photo I go.
No time for sleep
I’ve a schedule to keep
And pictures to capture the flow.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to write I go.
No time for sleep
I’ve a schedule to keep
And books to show what I know.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to drive I go.
No time for sleep
I’ve a schedule to keep
And places to see before snow.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off the weblog I go.
No time for sleep
I’ve a schedule to keep
And I’m outta here, gotta blow.

Categories
Travel

Traveling through Arizona

I took Interstate 8 from San Diego to Arizona, and stopped at a rest area outside El Centro while still in California. As I got out of the car, I heard this jet sound. Looking up, I saw four jets in close formation directly overhead — the rest area was right next to the base where the Blue Angels practice their show. So I grabbed my water and my crackers and cheese and watched the entire show from the best seats a person could have. Serendipity.

I stayed my first night outside Flagstaff, and the next day went hiking around the Cathedral rocks in the Red Rock country in Sedona. If you’ve ever been in Sedona, you know how incredibly beautiful the countryside is. I took several photos but they don’t even capture the “rightness” of this area. Rust red rocks, dark green scrub, and blue skies, though the sky that day was overcast.

There wasn’t anyone at the park when I got there, which just blew me away. I walked along the stream when I came upon this field of piled rocks. People who visited would take river stones and pile them just as the rock artists in San Francisco. A novel way of marking your visit, without any harm to the area. Eventually the weather and critters will knock the little pyramids down and the stones become fodder for the next artist. Can you see my little pyramid in the photos? Free trip to Arizona for anyone that spots the correct one — one guess to a customer.

On the way back I decided to deteour through the Navajo Indian Nation. I thought I could take Highway 160 to 64 and make Santa Fe by evening. What a lousy judge of distance I am.

The Navajo Indian Nation is probably the most inspiring land I’ve seen. It changes constantly from desert to plains to cliffs to hills to rocks to farms. You can’t get bored, but you can get overwhelmed. On thing I had read is that you don’t want to be on the Reservation at night because livestock and wild animals are frequently on the road and it can be very dangerous.

As the afternoon wore on and I saw no end in sight of Arizona, much less getting close to Santa Fe, I started inching my speed up on the car. Well, that was a mistake. The Navajo police are meticulous about the letter of the law. Sure enough, here come the lights. Driver’s license less than 8 months and I get a speeding ticket.

The officer was very nice and asked me the usual, including did I know I was going 71 in a 65 MPH zone. I answered truthfully, that yes, I knew it but I had badly misjudged the length of time to cross the reservation and was concerned about being on the road at night. He checked me out, and maybe because I was honest, and probably because he was a very decent person, he just gave me a warning — saving me I don’t know how much money in insurance rates.

He also told me I would be out of the Res in about an hour, but still in the back country.

At that point I checked the map and decided to cut directly down to the freeway on another road. I started out at dusk and drove for much longer than expected. I’m almost out of gas, it’s dark, the highway isn’t that well traveled and I haven’t seen a sign about what highway I’m on, and when I’ll hit something. Well, something friendly.

I did NOT want to run out of gas in the back country. Sure, I’d be safe enough, though cold. Still — I’m a coward, and I have a real thing about being out in the country all by my lonesome without any preparation, late at night.

Luckily, cars became more frequent, I found a gas station, I got gas, I got on the freeway.

Point to make — having an adventure because you plan it, or deliberately grabbing an opportunity is great; having one happen because you keep making stupid mistakes is a completely different thing.

Next day, I was tired and wanted to just get to my friend’s in St. Louis. I drove through the rest of New Mexico, Texas, most of Oklahoma, and most of Missouri. I drove 18 hours with little break.

Crossing Missouri was a nightmare. It was night, I was exhausted, and there were so many semi-trucks out that I thought I had stumbled on to a trucker’s convention. I spent three solid hours playing dodge car with trucks that could make a smear out of Golden Girl. Worse, I was having real problems seeing at night. In fact, I found that my night vision for driving was extremely poor — is this normal?

By the time I got to St. Louis, I was so tired that I was driving 45 MPH in a 65MPH zone, weaving all over the road. At one point, I was actually confused about the lines on the road and the exit I was to take. Once off the freeway, I had to call my friend on my cell and have him give me step by step instructions to get to his place.

That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done! I will never ever drive that long again, and to that point of exhaustion. I could have killed myself or worse, someone else! And playing games with semi-trucks? Rocks for brains.

All in all, though, I had an enlightening first long distance trip. And I’m already planning my next visit to Arizona — where I will obey the traffic signals to a letter, as well as stay for much longer than a few days.

Categories
People Places Political

More on Anti-Semitism in Northern California

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

According to an email I received from the editor, later this afternoon, the Jewish Bulletin of Northern California will have another article related to the Peace Rally at SFSU. You can look for it at the publication’s web site.

In the meantime, the publication did just post an article about an English class being taught at UC Berkeley (SF Gate also published an article on this class). The class, “Politics and Poetics of Palestinian Resistance”, generated a lot of controversy because the teacher, a pro-Palestinian graduate student stated in the course description:

“…This class takes as its starting point the right of Palestinians to fight for their own self-determination. Conservative thinkers are encouraged to seek other sections.”

When I first read this description, I was appalled. That a University known for free thinking would have a class with this disclaimer attached.

Should the class be pulled? If it focuses on the use of writing and rhetoric as it relates to the Middle East, then I don’t believe it should be pulled. A writing class of this nature would not only be interesting, it would be thought provoking as well as useful. However, this applies only if the class looks at the impact of writing and rhetoric from both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian issue.

Unfortunately, as the class is titled and according to the political affiliation of the teacher, it promises to be pro-Palestinian biased, and that’s inappropriate considering the venue.

These issues are never black & white, or uncomplicated, are they?

Categories
Photography Places

Market Day

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Sleepless night followed by glorious dawn. Market day!

Farmer’s Market is a carefully controlled and monitored open market where farmer’s can bring their goods and sell direct to the public. Here is where you can get the best of California produce, all in season all guaranteed absolutely fresh.

Today, strawberries and asparagus were big items, as were navel oranges. The mushrooms looked good, too, and I grabbed some shiitake for a rice dish tonight. Rumor has it Morels will be out next week, and I’m contemplating making a mushroom soufflé with cranberry coulis.

My favorite olive bread was sold out — bummer! However, I picked up a nice sour dough round. And to feed the soul, flowers.

flowers

Categories
Photography Places

Don’t breathe!

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

 

Today, four cranes made their way underneath the San Franciscan Bay Bridge, necessitating closure of the bridge temporarily. The closure was to prevent the weight of the cars from lowering the bridge span, an undesirable effect considering that clearance between the cranes and the Bay Bridge is only 22 inches — a very squeaky fit, indeed.

Since San Franciscans are always on the lookout for a good party, several folks showed up to witness the crane passage, and the sky was full of helicopters.

Luckily, no one breathed and the cranes made it safely through.

(See related story in SF Gate.)