Christmas Markets on the Elbe: Prague Day 2
An Even Better Day Than We Had Planned
We woke up fresh and decided to walk to Prague Castle from Clock Tower Square. We had a lavish buffet breakfast with friends departing very early the next morning, and then we headed out to find Bus 194, which came within moments.
Our intention was to get off at the Astronomical Clock Square, from where we could cross the bridge and hike up to the castle.
Once again, Bus 194 traveled the back roads but did not stop at the Clock Tower Square, so we just stayed on, and discovered it took us up a steep hill to the German Embassy, where we got off. On the advice of some friendly Czech police, we headed straight up the hill, and then across what I call a meadow and AdventureMan calls a park.
They have the most beautiful manhole covers!
The first photo above is the road we have walked up. The second is the road we will walk up to get to the path that crosses the meadow. You can see the monastery in the upper right of the above photo.
It was cold and snowy, but we were bundled up and happy to be out hiking. I have my clunky walking shoes on, and although the path is treacherous, snowy, icy and slick, my sticky soles have a good grip.
We came to a Monastery with a fabulous overview of Prague, and met up with several groups of happy Germans.
We continue on towards the castle.
We had some good laughs, and headed toward the Prague Castle, happily all downhill. Entrance was free, and the castle, on this cold, snowy December day was packed with tourists from all nations.
There is slush and ice everywhere, and these crews are in all heavily touristed areas, trying to clear paths and streets so they will be less dangerous. Meanwhile, the snow continues. Magical for us, a pain for them.
We hurried through the castle, and headed down the hill back to the city, stopping only at The Best Christmas Shop in Prague (and I believe it!) and the Lobkowitz Palace, where we had hot drinks – hot chocolate with whipped cream, a hot ginger lemonade, fabulous and not too sweet. We split a half-sweet chocolate cake and delighted in the surroundings – lots of families with bundled-up children, and lots of people from other places.
As AdventureMan paid, I went out to use the rest room which had a turnstile and coin machine. I started to put a coin in and a woman stopped me and said “No! I saw you in the restaurant! Your chit will let you in free! Go back and get a chit!” so I went back and got a token, and when I got there, another woman said “No! No! Don’t put in anything! The code is 1-1-1-1, just put in the code.” So I did.
When I had finished, on my way up the stairs, I saw a young couple trying to figure out how the machine worked, and I, in turn, said “No! Just put in 1-1-1-1!” and they did.
As we headed back into the city, I found a shop with garnets and amber, and I had hoped to find some new garnet earrings to replace the pair I bought there in 1990, my first visit. The shopkeeper was lovely, and a great saleswoman, and when I told her I could not take the large garnets I had been looking at, she asked if they were too heavy, and I laughed and said “No! Too expensive,” and like my good jewelers in Doha and Kuwait, she offered to make me a special deal for Christmas.
I chose a smaller pair, and she still gave me a better price, so I was very happy. As we completed the deal, we asked her for the name of a good Czech restaurant, a place she might eat with friends, not fancy but with a good atmosphere, and she sent us just up the street and around the corner to Potrafena Husa, in a less traveled part of town.
We went there, and oh, what fun we had. I ordered the duck confit and ginger lemonade, and AdventureMan had a schnitzel and a beer. We both love the Czech beer.
We wandered through the market, and enjoyed one of the hollow hand-held cinnamon breads traditional at this time of year. They come with different fillings, but I just wanted the plain – it has cinnamon sugar on it and that is enough for me. I could eat them forever; they are so light and tasty; they taste like Christmas!
A great time, loved the experience of the Christmas Market, but it is time to think about our return. Once again, we were over 15,000 steps and getting a little anxious about making sure we were packed and ready for our departure tomorrow. We found the 194 bus, headed home, were held up by a narrow-street accident and six police cars, but finally made it back to the Hilton.
We packed, we organized, and just as I was lying in bed working on the Bad Schandau section of this journal, I got a text from Delta. Our flight has been canceled out of Prague.
No offers of help to rebook. I read the message to AdventureMan as I hurriedly dressed. I was in shock, and at first, AdventureMan thought I was kidding.
No, I wasn’t kidding. We needed help. We needed to get to the Viking desk in the Hilton and get some serious juice working to resolve this, to get us home. Fortunately, we had booked with Viking and used Viking travel. They are so good when things go wrong, and can make it right.
Eve, the Cruise Director who had made everything so smooth on the Beyla, is still with us, and as soon as we see her, we tell her our news and she gets right on a call with Viking Travel. Although the wait seemed excruciating, soon Eva had us booked on another flight getting us into Pensacola the same day, a little later but the same day. She had worked a miracle. Our bags would be picked up later, we had a later departure, and we were on Air France, our favorite airline.
AdventureMan mentioned that our pick-up time for the canceled flight also had another couple, so Eva called them. They had also been resting (it’s the demographic). They checked their messages and they, too, had been canceled. By the time we left, we saw just how capable Eva was, dealing calmly with so many anxious passengers who needed rescheduling.
Another passenger who had used the Hilton ATM to change money found a $16,000 charge on his card that he had not made, his card was blocked, and he and his wife could not use Uber, could not charge anything, food, drinks, anything! And, of course, he was very concerned about how $16,000 could be charged to his card when he did not do it.
One by one, Eva patiently handled these individual disasters, without drama, but with great calmness and competency. We admired her before, on the cruise ship, organizing and re-organizing as things came apart, always calm. Watching her in action with such a variety of needs only increased our admiration.
We had some goals for this trip. We wanted to enjoy the sights, eat winter foods, and find some garnet earrings. Done. AdventureMan wanted a real Afghan kebab for dinner, and we had seen a place near the Hilton where we catch Bus 194, so we headed out, ordered kebab from an Afghani young man who told us he works like a robot, just work, and friends, and send all his money home. We have heard this story so many times; these young men work so hard to support their families far away, not just with food but with money for school tuition, clothes, and their families’ many needs. The kebabs were huge, full of tasty vegetables, and heaped with lamb. We brought them back to the hotel and couldn’t eat half, they were so big.
Now, hoping and believing we really do have a flight tomorrow, we are packed, and hoping to get a good night’s sleep before rising early to get our bags out in the hallway for transportation to the airport. As a last-minute change, we are checking our carry-on bags and taking with us only what we need.
We agree, for so many reasons, this has been one of our best vacations ever. We loved the magic of the snow the entire journey and the walk over Glienicker Bridge. The Beyla is a small ship, and we got to know several people well, and have great conversations over noticeably great meals on board. We found that almost every Viking guide we had, particularly in Berlin, Potsdam, and Dresden, was outstanding. The markets were so much fun. The people were welcoming and engaging. We hate for this vacation to end.
Christmas Markets on the Elbe: Saxon Alps and Bad Schandau
We got underway during breakfast, and sailed past increasingly hilly and interesting landscapes until the port talk at ten, which had to do with options in for a bus and hike at the top of the “Alps” and our dis-embarking in Decin. We went back to our room and shortly afterward, the alarm beeps started. We thought it was a mistake. They went on. And on.
I looked out and the fire door was closed. We got our life jackets and headed out but our room steward told us it was just a small thing, we didn’t need jackets, just a little problem. Then an announcement came asking all passengers to go to the lounge, and in the lounge, I was in a place where I could watch the crew. They were all in life jackets, and trying to keep the fire doors closed, except they had to keep opening them because there was no bathroom in the lounge; passengers could not go to their rooms, only to the one public restroom near the staterooms. Very strange.
Then the Captain announced that we could all go to lunch, but not to our staterooms.
As we sat at lunch, a fire truck pulled up, full of firemen. They put on hazard gear, and then – they came through the restaurant, to get to the engines at the back of the ship, I am guessing. Then came several cars of police, we don’t know why. After an hour or so, the firemen started leaving, the police came and left, and the Beyla continued very slowly upriver to a small town, Konigstein, where we stopped a while, a mechanic got on, more officials came back and forth, and a group got off to go hike up on the “Alps of Germany”. We sat in the lounge observing, and then the Beyla continued, slowly, to Bad Shandau.
It was almost dark when we arrived, we knew the group was expected back at 4:30 and we wanted to see if we could find an ATM in Bad Shandau, so we asked if we had time to walk into town before the boat departed again. The desk person told us yes, that the Beyla would not be departing tonight for Decin, but would remain in Bad Shandau until the problem could be remedied. (We still don’t know exactly what problem.)
We walked into the town, which reminded me of many small German towns we have lived in, lit up and decorated for Christmas, beautifully, simply, mostly with natural materials. We found an ATM and a halal butcher, a bakery or two still open, small clothing stores and gift stores. It was one of my favorite stops.
We never see another passenger from the ship. We have this small town of Bad Schandau all to ourselves.
Many buildings have high water markings, showing how high the Elbe has risen during floods
As you might guess, I find these wood carvings charming. If I didn’t already have one, from long ago, I would be so tempted to buy a couple more. But how many do I need? How do I get this back with my limited baggage? And who will want this when I am gone? Reluctantly, I pass.
Back on the Beyla, the crew continued heroically. Some people didn’t even know we were supposed to leave for Decin. It was our last night on board the ship, with a jolly group at dinner. I had pumpkin soup, chicken in wine sauce, and a plum tart, all wonderful. There are many of these passengers we hope we will see again, on a future cruise.
We went back to the cabin to finish up our packing and ready ourselves for arrival in Prague.
Seventeen Years as Intlxpatr
I don’t blog as often these days – who knew retirement would be so busy? I’ve now lost 40 pounds in retirement – did I mention I was diagnosed diabetic about ten years ago? I started with water aerobics, and when COVID hit, went bach to swimming. We learned to swim in Alaska, when we were very young. Everyone had boats, and every kid learned to swim, even though we had life jackets. The pool where we learned to swim, Evergreen Park, doesn’t even have that old glacier-river fed swimming pool anymore. Yes. It was cold. It didn’t matter. We loved swimming.
Now I am swimming three days a week, 2 miles a day. I love getting up early in the morning and hitting the pool early. I love the quiet of lap swimming and the noise of my pool buddies. It’s a great way to start the day.
I found this great Blogaversary cake honoring those early days in Alaska – won’t you have a piece? There’s another, if you don’t want to mar the beauty of this one.
Being an Alaskan has profoundly influenced who I am; it gave me a spirit of adventure and exploration. We spent a couple years in Seattle, and then moved to Germany with our lively parents, who took us everywhere during the 10 years they lived there.
We lived in Heidelberg. We had our high school proms and graduation in the Heidelberg Castle. We would jump on a train and go to Paris, or Berlin, or Amsterdam. It was an extraordinary adventure.
I met AdventureMan when my sister married in the Heidelberg Castle. We’re heading back later this year to visit some of the cities we were unable to visit during the long years of the Cold War, when there was a wall and a curtain that kept us all divided.
All those early years, they didn’t have “blogging.” It wasn’t until I got to Doha that I discovered blogs, and not until I got to Kuwait that I took the plunge and started this blog. I was terrified. The blogging scene could be rough, and people writing anonymous comments could be brutal. An expat who offended a high official could be sent home, and I didn’t want my husband to suffer for my mistake.
As it turned out, while it was important to tread carefully, blogging opened up a whole new world to me, and I met some really special people who helped me see things in new ways. Blogging changed my life. It gave me a voice, even if it was a timid one. The longer I blogged, the more confident I became – thanks to my fellow bloggers and friends who encouraged me.
So, to honor you, I do this annual virtual party, and invite all of you to enjoy these astounding cakes that people with vision create. I celebrate them, too, and their wondrous talent.
I appreciate the years of friendship and support you have given me. I thank you for reading about my travels and adventures, and for sharing my joys and woes. Thank you, thank you.
Taos, So Beautiful, We’ll Be Back
Some places, when you arrive, you just feel at home. We felt that way arriving in Taos. Our active-aging demographic went hand in hand with the young skier/snowboarder/rafter athletic demographic, and the two seemed to co-exist well.
We met a man in town who loves petroglyphs as I do, knows the secrets of where to find them and also has a vibrant and active mind. We found great walking, and beautiful spaces. We can’t wait to go back to Taos.
And on to Taos, New Mexico
We took this route specifically to visit Chaco Canyon. At the entrance, we saw a tire vendor, with a huge selection of tires, just out by the road. As we went on, the roads got rougher and rougher, and we decided not to risk getting stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire.
We took a turn off overlooking a huge reservoir, beautiful blue-green in a dry country. Sitting on a bench was a couple, older, about our age, just sitting quietly. We greeted them and spoke of the beauty of the site, and the woman said, “yes, we have never seen the reservoir this high, and we came just to look at it. It is a miracle.” It was a beautiful moment.
We found our hotel, The Taos Inn, easily, right in the middle of town, with its own parking! We loved our room.
Lady Emma Takes us On a Tour of Lake Powell
Dinner took two hours and by the time we left the restaurant, I was almost falling over from fatigue, despite our late afternoon naps. I still had to wash my hair, and the hair dryer was a puny little thing (I’m not very happy when I am tired. I’m like a whiny baby.) We slept well, and were up and ready for our boat trip in plenty of time.
As we grabbed coffee, tea and some breakfast at the Starbucks while waiting for our trip to go, I wondered about the management of the Lake Powell Resort. It is the only hotel on Lake Powell, and the view goes on forever. When I looked it up, I learned it is a National Park Service hotel, operated and managed by Aramark, who runs various hospitality sites around the world.
I looked them up. Here is their mission statement:
We are a leading global provider of food, facilities and uniform services to education, healthcare, business and industry, and sports, leisure and corrections clients. Our core market is North America, which is supplemented by an additional 20-country footprint serving many of the fastest-growing global geographies.
It sounds to me like a major contract management company, with a lot of sub-contractors.
At Lake Powell, I was impressed by how many employees were Native American and wondered if it were an employment priority. I had thought perhaps Lake Powell was a tribal-owned facility, but I was wrong.
We had to check in at the lodge for the boat trip. We watched people gather, check-in (or not; some people were trying to get on the trip but the boat was fully booked) and they were of all nationalities. A large Indian family with two young children came aboard, a French couple, and a variety of other people until the boat was filled. The employee checking us in then had to go down to the marina and get a train, as the train driver had not shown up. She came back and took us down in three trips. The captain of the boat was also female, and her assistant was also female all Navaho.
We had a great boat ride. I wish I could remember all the sights she pointed out to us. We first went by the marina, then to Glen Canyon Dam, then on the Colorado River and then on the Navaho River. It was a beautiful day, the light was great, and we were just really glad to be on board.
After the boat ride we quickly cleaned up and went into nearby Page to the State 48 Bar and Grill, where we decided we had made the right choice. The place had a great menu and was full of locals. AM had a beer and a Cowboy Burger, and I had the Avocado Black Bean Tacos. It was all delicious and satisfying.
Just around the corner was the Dara Express Thai food (and Korean and Vietnamese) but as it turned out, they did not have the Vietnamese salad rolls we love to have for dinner, but there was a Safeway nearby, full of ready-made meals, including sushi. The tour buses had dropped off a hoard of European tourists who were also picking up dinner. We saw the same in Moab last year; it makes for some nice options when people want to eat lighter at dinner. Or if they will be staying at a resort far from town with limited restaurant options. One of the tourists was kind enough to show us where the condiments, plastic knives, forks, and spoons were available, so we were fixed up in no time with our own dinner.
It was HOT. We had food in the car and had to take it out for fear of a melted chocolate mess. The biscotti were fine, but my chocolate-covered caramels were a soggy mess and had to be tossed.
The heat was simmering, the light was hard and flat and it was a good time for a nap. We snoozed a while, then hit the pool. There is more than one, and the one closest to us is always full, so we end up at the pool at the lodge, where we can get lounge chairs. As we enter, a woman asks “Can I ask, where did you get that?” I was carrying a noodle and I thought she was asking about that, but no, she wanted to know where I found the pool towel. I showed her the pool towel cupboard but it was empty. AM advised her to ask at reception, but she just sat by the side of the pool and scowled.
Cortez to Lake Powell
“Why Lake Powell?” asks AdventureMan. “The North Rim of the Grand Canyon isn’t open, and we haven’t seen Lake Powell,” I respond. “Have you looked at Lake Powell on the map? It’s man-made, and it goes on for miles. We might want to see it before it all dries up.”
Last year, on the Colorado River in May, the river levels were already desperately low.
“And it’s also a road we like, not interstate, gorgeous formations, and featured in Dark Winds and Outer Range,” I add.
Our last breakfast is the organic eggs and the last of AMs chicken mole, a delicious combination, as we pack our gear, strip our beds, wash the dishes, and load up the car. We say goodbye to Cecilia as we are leaving and head out back down the highway toward Kayenta, heading for Lake Powell.
Once again the scenery changes dramatically. We leave behind the high mountains and head down into red cliffs and huge dramatically sculpted free-standing flat-topped monuments in the desert. The clouds are dark and equally dramatic, making for some great contrasts.
We stop at Basha’s in Keyenta, a grocery store we love, and discover it has seriously modernized in the years since we last visited. The first thing we see when we enter is a Starbucks, just in time for me to get a mid-morning caffeine fix. All the different sectors of the grocery have signs in two languages, English and Navaho for produce, meat, bakery, delicatessen, etc.
While waiting for my coffee, a toddler came running in, wearing a dress and glasses almost as big as her face. She was so cute! The lady next to me showed us a photo of her granddaughter, equally cute. We, grandmothers, are all the same, so proud of our grandchildren.
We stopped at an overlook where I thought I saw a coyote, but AM said it was just a dog, and then there were two. I hope they hadn’t been abandoned there, I hope there was an unseen residence nearby where they lived.
Coming into Lake Powell was another dramatic shift in scenery, bleak and deserted, but contrasted with the bright blue waters of Lake Powell. We stopped at Big John’s Texas BBQ and ate at long picnic tables surrounded by tourists from many nations.
We then headed on to the Lake Powell resort, where we have reservations, and fortunately they have our room ready. It is a pretty standard kind of hotel room, except that it has a panoramic view of Lake Powell, and that makes all the difference.
When we go to confirm our boat ride for tomorrow, the concession clerk tells us we are lucky to be on tomorrow morning as the one for this afternoon was canceled because the boat had a problem. Evidently, it wasn’t pretty. She had all these people seriously disappointed they weren’t going to get their boat ride, they were only here today, their bus would be leaving and she had had quite a time trying to unruffle all those feathers. We gave her our utmost sympathy.
I had a good swim for about half an hour at the pool, it felt so good, and then a few drops of rain – well I can handle that.
And then lightning and thunder, and that is a good time to get out of the pool. We head back to the room and I catch up on documenting our journey. Soon we need to get ready for dinner; the restaurant here has a famous Cioppino which we intend to share with a couple salads.
The Cioppino was delicious, as was the Caesar salad I had preceding it.
We were lucky to have reservations, people were being turned away, and all around us were tables of tour groups, eating their meals. We could see they had choices, an appetizer, soup or salad, and an entree. They all got dessert. They were having a great time, and getting them in and out is clearly the hotel’s bread and butter. Lake Powell is a great stop between places like Zion and Bryce Canyon and Mesa Verde, or Canyon de Chilly or Santa Fe, and what we saw now, in late mid-May is just the beginning.
What puzzles me is that the restaurant is at full capacity, and people are being turned away, what will they do when the high season hits? Our waiter tells us there is a real problem finding enough people to work there, and the resort is several miles from Pace, the nearest city, so there is nowhere else for the people on bus tours to eat.
Hiking for Petroglyphs in Mesa Verde
We got up early to head for the Ute reservation park center, where you find tours to take you onto the Ute reservation, only to find it was closed. It’s a beautiful morning, although there are some threatening clouds, so we had to nearby Mesa Verde, stopping at the Cortez welcome center where a kind lady tells us about the Spruce House petroglyph trail, a 2.4-mile trail, fairly easy, she tells us, which reassures me because I am in a skirt and sandals.
We love Mesa Verde. We’ve been here before, and we can see there have been a lot of major improvements since the last time we were there.
Some of the roads are still not open, due to damage over the winter, but the hike to the petroglyphs is open.
As we drive into the Spruce House parking lot, there is a great parking spot, and as we turn into it, there is a woman in the next car, pulling things out, and scowling at us like “go somewhere else to park!” AM couldn’t resist chatting her up; it looked like she had her entire household packed in her car and no matter how nice he was, she was crabby and negative in return. We couldn’t help but laugh.
We ask the Ranger at the Museum about the Spruce House trail and he tells us there is one place, just past the petroglyphs, that is a hard vertical climb, but the rest is easy.
It was not. This was one of the hardest hikes I can remember in a long time, with many steep narrow stone ascents and descents.
Just as we entered Mesa Verde, my camera battery had gone, so I only had my phone camera, not my bigger camera, which turned out to be a really good thing. By the time we discovered how hard the trail would be, we couldn’t really turn back, so we made frequent stops to calm our heart rates. Some hikers passed us heading back, some because they had tour times they realized they couldn’t make it if they completed the hike, and some just turned back because it was too hard.
We gutted it out. There were times we just laughed.
We made it to the petroglyphs, and appreciated the beauty of Spruce Canyon. We were on many narrow little trails on which a false step could result in a long, dangerous fall, which made us very intentional in our foot placement, and slowed our pace.
Just after the petroglyphs we came to the place the Ranger had described. People were turning back. There were places that required finding a place to plant your foot where you could lift yourself to the next level, raising the other leg.
That I could do! I do it three times every week, exiting the pool! It is the same movement! We waited for another group to pass us – me being in a skirt and having to raise it to execute the climbing moves up the rocks. We stopped a couple times in the climb just to catch our breaths, to slow our hearts, and to appreciate how difficult this was, and we were doing it!
Once we got to the top, there was a smooth, easy path back to the museum. We took it slow, our thigh muscles were aching from all the ascents and decents, and my hips were aching from the climbs. We were so thankful just to finish the hike, but we were laughing at the description of this hike as an “easy level trail.” We later learned it was listed as a strenuous hike, a description we would agree with.
Just happy it’s over. We made it. We made it!
On the way home, late in the afternoon, we stopped at a Mexican restaurant in Cortez which had intrigued AdventureMan; Gustavo’s.
We really liked it. I ordered three street tacos al pastor, and AM ordered the chicken mole.
We were both delighted with our orders; mine were small tacos with just meat and onion and cilantro, and a spicy sweet mustard sauce, absolutely delicious. AM’s mole was a WOW, with sweet tender chicken with a sauce that was decidedly chocolate but carried a big heat. As usual, we couldn’t eat it all, so we boxed up one of his chicken mole’s and an order of Gustavo’s lemon pie (it was more like a lemon tiramisu, with layers of pastry between layers of a mascarpone and lemon filling, amazing and unusual) to take with us for dinner.
When dinner came, we were still so full we just had a couple slices of the comte cheese and crackers for dinner, and that was enough.
Hovenweep, Canyon of the Ancients and Petroglyphs
We are still sore from our climb the previous day, but we don’t want to waste a minute of our precious time in this area, so we head for the Canyon of the Ancients Monument early in the morning. Oops, not early enough.
We discovered Sand Canyon is a place to park and then you hike in. We saw busloads full of schoolchildren, and then we saw a person with a horse carrier unload his horse to ride into the canyon. Nope – too many people for me, and no guide.
We headed down the road to a petroglyph site, which was small and more than half defaced or updated with more recent writings, one from 1949.
Then on to Hovenweep, which was very exciting, very satisfying, an entire valley of ancient Pueblo houses, with various architectural styles, on an easy hike around the valley.
(A different perspective of Sleeping Ute Mountain)
We hiked around to the Tower House, taking photos and also enjoying the spring flowers in their colorful glory. Hovenweep is a beautiful park, with a smooth easy trail, even wheelchair accessible to the first overlook. The rest of it is too extreme for wheelchairs, but an easy walk for most people.
Leaving Hovenweep, we took a northern road toward Dolores, a small town with an old railroad depot, and the Dolores River running through it. They have a very good museum and visitors center there, but for the time being it is closed for renovations. On our way to lunch, looking for the restaurant, we were stopped by a very polite police officer who reminded us we were in a school zone (we totally missed the sign but we were going slow, just not slow enough.) AdventureMan remembers it as being stopped by Leaphorn, (from Dark Winds). Yes. He really believes that.
We had lunch in Dolores at a Mexican restaurant called Montezuma, where I had a burrito and AM had enchiladas, both with beans and rice, and very Mexican.
Heading back through Cortez, we stopped again at City Market to find supplies for our anticipated trek to the Ute Indian reservation park the next day, picking up a loaf of bread and some Comte, locally made.
Back to our peaceful cabin, and a dinner of pasta aglio oglio, with garlic bread and salad.
Exploring Kelley’s Ancient Echoes
I got up early, caught up on e-mails, and lectionary readings, then AdventureMan got up and we had breakfast. We dressed for hiking, took our full water bottles and headed out, eager to explore the grounds at Ancient Echoes at Kelly’s. The Canyon of the Ancients is in our backyard! We are good hikers, confident hikers. We are eager!
We visited the old pueblo house and the underground kiva, saw Cecelia, one of the owners, making mounds for planting corn, beans and squash (the three sisters of the ancients in these parts), and asked her some questions about the grounds, and then headed off past the casitas, past up into the hills to visit more ancient ruins. It was shady and cool, and an easy path. “Just follow the cairns” Cecelia had told us, to the top of the ridge. Keep your eye on the spire.
We crossed the arroyo and headed up and down the trail until we reached the barbed wire at the top of the ridge, passing the ancient ruins. Deciding to turn back – it was getting hotter – we backtracked, following cairns (rocks piled in a deliberate style to guide trekkers) we crossed the arroyo and headed for a cairn on the opposite ridge. It was much more difficult, as we had to find a diagonal way up a sheer red stone face, which, huffing and puffing, we did.
Looking for the next cairn, AM found a circle of stones, and we looked at each other – we didn’t remember seeing a circle of stones before. We couldn’t find any more cairns, either. We roamed back and forth on the ridge, circling back to a tree where we would rest. It kept getting hotter, and our water was running shorter. In the steeper areas we were rock climbing, on hands and knees, not as easy as when we were younger. We crossed to the next ridge, from which we could see Kelly’s camp clearly, see our own suite clearly, but from which we could not descend because it was steep and ended in an overhang with a drop.
Finally, knowing where we needed to be, we headed back to the arroyo, and down the arroyo a little farther where we found our missing trail. We were so delighted to find our way home again after being on the trail over three hours more than a little afraid we would be “those elderly people who were found by the rescue team.” We were so thankful when we found the right trail. We were probably dehydrated as well as exhausted. We fell into bed and slept, awakening stiff from climbing up and down the hills and arroyo. We finished our BBQ sandwiches and spent the afternoon reading and relaxing.
Re-energized, we went into Cortez for dinner at the Farm Bistro, a popular local restaurant specializing in local sourcing. I had a yak burger, made from real local yaks, and AM had the French Onion soup and an Antipasto platter, with local meats and cheeses. It was very good, and a relaxing way to end our day.
We found the City Market and picked up parsley and garlic bread for the next day, and gassed up the car.
In the middle of the night, I heard the weirdest scratching, like something was in the walls. It woke AM, too, and we banged on the walls and told it to go away – and it did, then it would come back again. After about an hour and a half, we made it feel unwelcome enough that it never came back, and we allowed ourselves to sleep in. We told the owners the next morning. I don’t know what they did, but we were never bothered again.
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