Zion, Bryce, Arches, Canyon (the grand one)

I have been to Utah, Arizona and Nevada, but these states were all seen from the window of the Rum Diary tour van. So, instead of riding in a  sweaty box with four hungover and beastly smelling men, living on slim jims and code red, stopping only at gas stations and the occasional Iron Skillet, I chose to drive a slighty douche-baggy mustang convertible, stop only at incredible national parks, and was blessed with the cheerful company of Ms. Anderson.

 

I love this expression of joy mixed with terror. "Driving is really scary" she said."Would I look cooler if I leaned my arm out the window?" 

 

Our first stop was the Bellagio Hotel to have breakfast with Uncle Bubba and 10K. Why I didn't take any pictures of the insane buffet they treated us to, I will never know. Suffice to say that it was a nice balance of family time and pure gluttony. 

Just a couple hours out of town, the scenery began to shift from the centipedes of stucco homes and Starbcucks to the granite cliffs of Zion.

What a magnificent valley, especially here as presented by Lauren. 

 

 As dusk approached, we set up camp and began preparing our first meal.

This is when I first learned that Lauren is a pyromaniac. I'm not saying that in a cute way, she loves to burn things. As she explained it "to see how they catch fire, and how they smell when they are burning." She actually accumulated a little pile of things throughout the night to toss into the fire.

Tent view. 

The next day we began our hike to Angel's Landing, but not before Lauren hams it up a bit for the camera.

Somewhere near the top, a lady coming down the other way says to us "You're not even half way." We thought that could mean two things:

1. We looked way too confident.
2. We looked like we should turn back.

Either way, we think she should mind her own business. I may have given her a smile similar to this one.

I had brushed up on my Zion edible plant identification skills before the trip, but I was still very surprised to find a glacies cremorem, Soft Serve Swirl Tree tucked away between some rocks.I shared the bounty with Ms. Anderson.

 

We made our way back to our campsite and began to prepare supper. Lauren insisted on cooking (burning) the food (and anything else in reach), as she would for the rest of the trip.

And, I guess the other campers who walked by assumed we were the type of jerks that would actually buy a car like this.

 

But on our drive to Bryce Canyon, we realized that looking like jerks was totally worth it. With the top down, we made our way along Hwy 89, and UT 12. These roads follow switchbacks up through the granite, weave in and out of tunnels, and provided an opportunity to be happy about being stopped for twenty minutes for road construction.  

Bryce Canyon was a complete surprise. Hadn't really heard of it, didn't know what to expect. But boy was I excited when I saw the valley, so excited in fact that I found it difficult to stand up straight.

The Fairyland Trail hike is highly recommended. It wraps around the whole valley. We maybe saw two other groups on this trail, a bit too early for the full swing of tourist season.

Such a bizarre landscape. I was expecting to see a Jawa pop out at any moment. 

Orchestral Maneuvers on the Trail. 

When we began to settle in for the evening, right around the time the temperature dropped to 18 degrees and we turned into Popsicles, we realized why the place was somewhat deserted. We had only planned to stay one night anyway. It was well worth it. 

The next morning we drove to the park I was most excited about, Arches National Monument. Not even having to listen to the moronic babble of Rush Limbaugh on the radio could dampen my mood. 

Lauren spent hours looking online to find the perfect campsite in Arches. "She's the one," she said as she saw an image of this big rock in the middle of one of the sites. Naturally, when we arrived, she was pretty excited to see her rock. Do you remember those strange poses that the photographer made you strike during senior portraits? Just curious...Yes, I put her up to it, but for some reason she really embraced the challenge.

The next morning, after I coaxed Lauren out of the tent with a nice cup of tea...

...we embarked on what would be our favorite hike of the trip, the Devil's Garden Loop trail. Hard to put into words, suffice to say that we felt the constant presence of Edward Abbey.

 We had to switch campsites on the second night, and both agreed that this is the best we would have it on the trip. When do you actually get to camp right up in the landscape like this? Rock Cleavage.

It was hard to leave this park, really hard. But there was the promise of meeting up with my favorite (unless any other cousins are reading this) cousin, Sarah, at the Grand Canyon.

 

I love hanging out with my cousin. We get to catch up, deconstruct family dynamics, and we get to talk in fond remembrance of our favorite person ever, Grandma Shirley!  My Grandma would love the fact that we were in the Grand Canyon together, and her spirit is close in places like this.

We got to hike down towards the bottom of the canyon, eat our delicious lunch, rescue a New Yorker, you know, standard stuff. Sarah and her friend, Janelle, also got to discuss the horoscope, and debate the qualities of different power crystals. Ahhh, just like being in California. 

 

Lauren says to make sure I include a picture from the bottom so no one can deny our strenuous hike. We are both alike in this way, quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) competitive.  

 All in all, the Grand Canyon was stunning. Yes, packed with tourists, but you can't be cynical in a place that provides such perspective. I ended up feeling a great sense of camaraderie with the fellow vacationers. We said our goodbyes and made our way back to Las Vegas to fly home. 

You know that feeling when you are headed home from adventure, and it starts setting in that all of the months of excitement and planning are drawing to a close? You realize that you will be back, sitting at your desk the next day, back in the routine, daydreaming about the days of old? Well, we fought that by listening to religious radio, the kind you just can't find in the Bay Area. Quality stuff. Bad news: We learned that we are probably going to hell. Good news: We are having too much fun to care.

Switzerland 2011

Off to Switzerland with my mom and brother to visit the ancestral home of the Walker family. Hmmm, turns out it feels and smells a lot like Ferndale. Fragrant and beautiful.

 So this is Andermatt, where my great great grandfather was born. And this is me and Bro-bro with matching shoes. I wore these brown pants everyday of the trip, partly to amuse my grandma who will read this blog, but also because I really don't see the point in changing them.

My mom knows some German to get us through ordering lunch, but it really doesn't matter. The options are sausage or hashbrowns, pretty much every meal.

The hills behind Andermatt.

 Perch head  on steps. 

A hilarious interaction between my mom and a farmer. My mom kept calling him Volvi, which turned out to be the name of his dog.

The awesome church that sits above the town. 

River crossing.

This smile usually means he's going to hurt me, but I think it may be genuine here.  

A big part of our trip, of course, was riding trains. Why are Americans such dumbasses with no trains? It seems like it makes even more sense here. Back to my point, I love this picture of my mom. 

 

We then traveled to Murren. This town was our favorite, 100 or so houses perched on the edge of a cliff, right in front of the Eiger Summit. 

As seen here.

Snowball fight.

A view from our apartment. 

I think this must be the moment that Matt planned to kill his mom and brother with a "death hike". Convince them to walk to the summit of the Schilthorn, the rest should take care of itself.

It started as a nice walk up a small hill.

No special equipment, just running shoes, polyester pants, bushhog hat, a little bit of water. 

Looking back, I should have seen the creepy swing set as an omen. At the time it was cute.

The clean crisp air felt awfully good in the ol' lungs when we started climbing. 

"Do you know where this trail goes?" my mom asks. "Does it matter?" I think was my brother's response

And little patches of snow started to appear on the ground. 

Uh yeah, just a little winded with a broken foot, I'll be ok.

Obviously satisfied with the challenge.

And this is the point where we should have turned back

But the clouds starting rolling in, making the hike back down the mountain very difficult. 

We continued up, the snow got deeper, the hill got steeper.

I took this photo to remember how ridiculous this hike had become, pretty scary, but we were trying to reach the peak where a lift could take us back down. 

This is when it got real. Not to be dramatic, but just one slip is all it would really take to go sliding down the mountain. It was here where I decided to stop taking photos and concentrate.(See my brother and mom as little specs.)

It's kinda of hard to explain how difficult climbing up this ridge was. I literally had to kick and dig the tip of each shoe into the snow with every step so I wouldn't slip off the face. Most of the cables were buried, my hands and feet were completely frozen, it was terrifying. When I got to the top, I could see my brother and mom as two tiny dots down the mountain. I borrowed some guy's binoculars and followed their progress up, trying to decide if I should get help.  I was scared for my mom but my brother heroically stayed behind and helped her.  From the top, you could tell that this trail was closed to the public, we must have missed that sign at the bottom. 

Before we knew it, we had hike to the top of the Schilthorn.  When we got to the top, people looked as us like we were insane (they had taken the gondola). We later heard stories of how dangerous it is to hike that trail this time of year, and that every year tourists have to get rescued by helicopter for the small price of $2000/person. It also turns out we had hiked up the wrong side, the steep side where crampons and ice axes are required. 

After we took the gondola down and arrived back at the apartment, a few things happened:

• We sat in silence for a bit, and reflected on our brush with death, and decided to stay in for the rest of the evening
• Matt nervously laughed and apologized to us
• I pointed out how my pants, being polyester, stayed completely dry during the hike, compared to their soaked levis
• Our shoes developed a strange squeek from being frozen

 The next day we hiked around Murren, Grindelwald and Gundlisch . My mom would not stop talking about how much she loves the tidy woodpiles. The whole trip mind you, not just on this hike. She was fascinated. I think we will have some work to do at the cabin this summer.

On the valley floor you could look up and see this waterfall. Very reminiscent of Last of the Mohicans, my mom did her best Daniel Day Lewis impression.

 The next day we took a gondola to the other side of the mountain range and went hiking in the shadow of the great Eiger Peak.

From there we had a great view of the peak we had climbed a few days earlier, basically from those green trees at the bottom to the peak at the top right.

The next day we were off to Lausanne. My brother vowed to master the french language on the 3 hour train ride. He got as far as learning how to order one beer, and then several more.

 We hiked along this beautiful path along lake Geneva, to visit the Chateau de Chillon, where Lord Byron was once imprisoned, and thousands of "witches" were tortured while waiting for trial.

 

This is not my photo, but a nice shot of the castle.

  The last stop on our trip was Bern. My mom escaped to do some shopping while my brother and I walked around the city with still squeeky shoes. 

 

They kinda have enormous bears just hanging out in the park, a very small fence is what separates you from suffering the fate of Timothy Treadwell. 

My favorite car ever. 

 We then made our way to the airport. My mom had to rush and leave much earlier than us, but she was spared Matt's moronic babbling about the grand opening of his restaurant for idiots, "Big Timmy's."