Crossing Colorado

Black Canyon National Park

Juniper High Above Black Canyon © 2013 Bo Mackison

The Fourth Day – East Across Colorado

A half-dozen times I’ve circled Black Canyon National Park on vacation maps
and a half-dozen times we lingered too long at Arches or Canyonlands,
and Black Canyon was scratched. Who even knows there is such a place as
Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park anyway?

Now you can count me among its visitors, I’ll keep its secret.
Here are steep cliffs, ancient rock, craggy spires,
and walls streaked with dragon outlines, erosion’s art work
on rocky canvas 2000 feet from flowing river to cliff edge.

Black Canyon National Park

Black Canyon National Park © 2013 Bo Mackison

Oh, the quiet places, open spaces, vertical wilderness
shared with soaring hawks and eagles.
Cloud cover kept the canyon in shadow, but the river’s song
sounded on the high mesa and wildflowers bloomed
in the roots of twisted junipers.

Twenty years getting here and I had only half a day
to see what I had missed, a half day to know I’ll return.
When the wind gusts spiked at 50 mph, I knew I’d pushed my luck,
but a tail wind pushed me half-way across Colorado.

Stranded Boat Dock - Curecanti NRA

Stranded Boat Dock © 2013 Bo Mackison

Colorado has fine scenery, but those low gray clouds packed with snowy potential
overwhelmed my yearn to pull over and explore.
Still, there was plenty to see –
the up and down rhythm of mountain, valley, mountain.
Tumbleweeds skirted the highways.

Cimarron, Colorado. Conjurer of Wild West.
Lakes half filled, driftwood sculptures lace the sandy edges.
And colors bleached by winter’s touch take on color — 
greening grasses, tree twigs in muted yellows, pinks, rusty reds,
Weeping willows in yellow-green tangles.
Calves snooze in muddy pastures,
content as their mothers graze nearby.

Dust Storm at Curecanti NRA

Dust Storm at Curecanti © 2013 Bo Mackison

Dust clouds swirl around my car at Curecanti.
I stop at another ranger station,
it’s a slow day for recreation, the staff ply me with coffee, maps,
highlight the safest route through the eastern mountain passes.
Another hawk sweeps past my car, hawks are my companion bird this trip.

San Isabel National Forest.
Steepy Mountain.
And then Monarch Pass. Fitting, Monarch is the pass to bid me farewell
as I cross the Continental Divide and head towards the plains.

Salida and a stop at Sally’s Cafe for coffee.
The road follows the Arkansas River,
running with spring melt, thunder-crashing into protruding red rock.
Fly fishermen queue for prime locations.

In the high desert town of Cañon City
I watch the last hawk of the day —
dancing, sky diving, it welcomes the evening.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. A cross-country traveler by day, and an occasional poet. This is a poem in nine parts, because the trip lasts nine days. This is day four!

Crossing State Lines

Mountain Ranch

Red Earth, Blue Skies © 2013 Bo Mackison

On Sunday, the Second Day

On the day I travel from mountains to plains,
I cross the state line, and sing-song
“Goodbye, Arizona; Hello, New Mexico.”

I keep my place on the map by noting the washes I cross,
Federal highway signs break the monotony of the endless I-system.
Querino Wash, dusty and dry,
Carr Lake Wash, dusty and dry.
Meandering water gives the Little Colorado River’s name veracity.
Rivers most commonly run dry in the Southwest
and imagination replaces river-water.

I turn north, follow the Trail of the Ancients, Navajo Nation,
Cinder block homes and sweat lodges. Horses stand in the shade of ramadas.
Winds blow fierce, flying dust covers the road,
I steer my car by the tracks of the pick-up truck ahead
and rocks rise in mystery from a nothingness, silhouettes in swirling dust.

Near Shiprock, NM – yes, a rock clipper ship rises from the plateau –
a wailing dog circles its dead companion rigid on the roadside,
nudges the head matted with dark stained dirt.

Briefly I think of Sunday School Bible verse contests,

“For you were made from dust, and to dust you shall return,”
but I prefer the astronomer’s explanation –
“You are star-dust, the heart of the star.”

Towards evening I reach Four Corners, a geographical nameplace
Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Colorado touch with 90˚ precision,
An accuracy of borders esteemed by politicians and mapmakers.

I choose to pass the concrete historical marker
and the surrounding neon-lit gift shops,
intent, instead, on reaching my destination before nightfall.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. A cross-country traveler by day, and an occasional poet, — this is a poem in nine parts, because the trip lasts nine days. Day One is here.

Crossing the Country

Car on Historic Route 66

Old Car © 2013 Bo Mackison

“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.”
~ Miriam Beard

Saturday:

It is sunny and 71˚ and 8:03 a.m. when I lock the door,
jam my last bag in the car.
No need to memorize the blue of the sky, it is already mine.
A red tail hawk dips into the arroyo,
I catch his wide sweep as I turn north.
Prickly pears and yucca bloom extravagantly,
Spent blossoms of the ocotillo litter the curbside.

In three hours I have detoured twice,
a little lost, I follow Arizona Scenic Highway signs
like dropped bread crumbs in a dark forest,
curve along the edges of copper mines,
open pits of rock, miners in yellow hard hats maneuver
front-loaders along the narrow ledges.

Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park

Boyce Thompson Arboretum © 2013 Bo Mackison

I walk the paths of the arboretum at noon,
detour through Miami’s mission district at three,
at four I descend into the Salt River Canyon.
Hawks soar high above the road, I follow their shadows on the asphalt.
Red Tails are my trip totem,
Road cuts expose the white rock of the White Mountains,
Vines and creeping flowers line the rough rock.

5:02 p.m. and I stop in Show Low,
the motel is on Deuce of Clubs Street, the main drag.
Can’t show lower than the deuce of clubs.

Scattered Petrified Wood

Scattered Petrified Wood © 2013 Bo Mackison

Sunday morning:

Gas at Safeway is 3.42 a gallon,
two fishermen lean against their truck, boat in tow,
and argue about late starts and wasted time.
The older guy draws on his cigarette while pumping gas.

North of Show Low the topography is Illinois flat,
the soil is Utah red.
Dead River.
Querino Wash.
Four Mile Draw, Five Mile Draw, Six Mile Draw.
Godawful flat and dusty,
Telephone poles are distraction.

Past Holbrook, outcroppings jut like layers of floor sheeting.
It’s a land of rock, a many-layered fossil cake in rainbow hues.
Entrance signs greet and command:
“Welcome to Petrified Forest National Park.
Do Not Remove Rocks Under Penalty of Law.”
I take only photographs.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. A cross-country traveler by day, and an occasional poet in the evening.

Traveling in Arizona

Santa Rita Prickly Pear

Santa Rita Prickly Pear © 2013 Bo Mackison

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The neighborhood cactus, a lovely Prickly Pear named for Santa Rita Mountains where they grow abundantly, threw this goodbye party for me – a massive show of yellow blossoms amidst a multitude of purple pads. A finer sending-off gift I have never received!

It was sunny and a mild 71˚F when I left my home situated between the Sonoran Desert to the west and the Santa Rita Mountains to the east. The highest temperatures of the year were predicted for  the next few days — nearing 100˚ — and  so it was time to return to the Midwest for the summer.

Copper Country

Copper Basin Railway © 2013 Bo Mackison

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Though I love Tolkien’s writings, his words didn’t quite apply to my meanderings on my first travel day. I was wandering and I did get lost, but it was not for nought. I missed a turn and so ended up in copper country east of Phoenix instead of at my mid-day destination, the Boyce Thompson Arboretum. I did see some interesting countryside that I otherwise would never have seen – the benefits of wandering.

No worries. I did enjoy the sights on some new-to-me roads as I circled back towards Boyce Thompson Arboretum, and though my picnic lunch was delayed, the blooming gardens lived up to all expectations!

This view is of the Picket Post Mountains, one of the first Arizona sights that were etched in my psyche on my first visit to the area. Friends introduced Sherpa and I to the diversity and beauty of the desert at Boyce Thompson, and it was like coming home. Four years later, this view still evokes fond memories of my realization that I had found “my place”. And I hadn’t been aware that there was a place I needed to find!

Salt River Canyon

Salt River Canyon © 2013 Bo Mackison

One travels more usefully when alone, because he reflects more.
~ Thomas Jefferson

I drove from Globe to Show Low, Arizona on the last part of the day’s journey, driving on sharp turns through the mountains, dropping deep into the Salt River Canyon, and then rising into the White Mountains. The views were spectacular, and since I was following my own schedule that allowed for plenty of interruptions, I pulled off at nearly every overlook, just to take in the scenery.

Nothing like standing on the edge of a mountain cliff, studying masses of white flowers on climbing vines that cover the white rock of the White Mountains, viewing a white rapids river thousands of feet below, watching the red tail hawks soar overhead, to remind me that I am but a speck of dust in this mighty Universe.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.    She is traveling cross-country, and thinking about the Universe.

Cross Country Adventure

Cactus Flower Wreath

Cactus Flower Wreath © 2013 Bo Mackison

I locked the doors, left a note in my neighbor’s mail box, and gave the mountain view from my door a lingering look. A red-tailed hawk swooped towards the arroyo, then caught an uplifting current and soared into the deep blue sky.

Months ago, when I was pondering a solo road trip half way across the country, I questioned my sanity. But today, it feels right. I’ve crammed everything into the car — mostly boxes of books and art supplies, a couple of pieces of art I purchased for re-location to the Midwest, and a box of newly acquired book-making paraphernalia. Camera bags and my suitcase occupy the back seat. My bag of travel food – peanut butter, vegetable juice, apples, almonds, baby carrots – is in the front seat within easy reach. So is a cooler of ice, a jug of iced tea, and several cases of water. My goal is to do the trip without any fast food stops.

My other travel objective is to drive over 2,000 miles while (mostly) avoiding the interstate system and stopping at every National Park or monument within a half hour drive. That is the part of my plan that makes this travel plan sensible, doable, and sane. And the fact that I’m limiting my road travel to 350 miles a day. It’s not a lot, it will take me a week to get to Wisconsin, but it is doable. Even enjoyable. I’ve already promised myself that when I see a photo opportunity, I will take the time and stop.

What’s not to love about this kind of road trip!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.    She will report in with travel updates, as time and  internet connections allow.