Gulch

Field Report: The Land of Sun and Sky and Semi-Secret Atomic Laboratories

Last month, Jen and I spent a little over a week traveling through New Mexico. It was the first time either of us had stepped into that curious state and I’ve been meaning to do a post about our travels there ever since. I figured I might have written about soaking in hot springs with Russian nuclear physicists and Native American air traffic controllers. Or perhaps I would have described walking miles though drifting sand dunes while not-so-stealthy stealth fighters ripped through the flawless blue sky overhead. I probably would have mentioned pushing buttons on aging and obsolete computers that were piled to the roof in a store that sells salvaged goods from a nuclear laboratory. I would have written about climbing icy ladders up the side of a cliff to peer at the sacred kiva of a people who had centuries ago dug their cities into the rock walls of what is now New Mexico. I think I would have let it slip about how bright the stars shine in the high-altitude, low humidity mountains outside of Santa Fe and talked about how both the mountains and stars are even more beautiful when you are visiting what might be the only Japanese-style onsen in the country. I might have written about meeting the surveyor and the cosmetologist and their humorous quest to find a road that exists mainly in historic road-side informational signs. I’m sure that, at the very least, I would have recommended the food, which comes in my two favorite flavors: spicy and spicier.

Instead of writing about these things, though, I thought I’d quickly (and, well, lazily) link to all our very favorite places we visited while putting 1000 miles on the rental car. Just like our travel guides, I’m only listing those things that we thought were truly great and that we wouldn’t hesitate to check out again.

• Satellite Coffee (Albuquerque): Need to raise your IQ and your energy levels a few points? Well, if you’re like me the quickest and easiest way to do that is with a steaming hot cup of caffeine. Satellite Coffee, which has 6 locations around Albuquerque, makes an excellent caffeine refueling station. Plus, at least one of their locations looks like it was hit by a UFO.

• Ten Thousand Waves (Santa Fe): An onsen is a Japanese hot spring that combines geothermally heated pools with beautiful Japanese architecture and gardens. The downside of Japanese onsens is that they are hard to find outside of Japan. And, yet, one seems to exist in the mountains just outside of Santa Fe. A beautiful yet fairly expensive place, Ten Thousand Waves is the perfect way to relax after a hard day of hiking, skiing, museum going, or sightseeing. You can rent private pools, relax in the communal pool and sauna, or go for the whole spa treatment. Either way, you'll be provided with a kimono, sandals, and cucumber water. It's not necessarily a place for the modest nor the thrifty but a visit is a treat and, afterwards, you'll be too relaxed to worry about a travel budget anyway.

• Flying Star Cafe (Albuquerque): This restaurant is reasonably priced, is open late, serves tasty food, and is just plain cool. Owned by the same people who run Satellite Coffee, the Flying Star might be how people in the 1950's imagined diners would look in the future. While there are several locations around Albuquerque, I highly recommend the downtown one (723 Silver Ave SW) as it has an especially cool retro-futuristic feel going for it. The huevos rancheros with red chili were especially tasty and they also have a lot of good options for vegetarian/vegan types.

• International Balloon Museum (Albuquerque): I’ve been to a lot of different museums in my various travels but this is the only one that I’ve ever visited which focuses solely on balloons. I’m not talking about the little bend into animal shape or fill with water and throw at your neighbor type balloon. No, this is a museum dedicated to those vessels that sail through the skies based on centuries old lighter than air technology. The museum has a lot of great exhibits that range from the history of ballooning to balloon simulators to airship models to Jules Verne’s writing about balloons. There is also, of course, scientific explanations of how hot air and gas balloons work. For the true balloon enthusiast, the highlight has to be the gondolas from famous balloons - those that were the first to launch into the stratosphere, cross the oceans, or even attempt to go around the ocean. Admission is quite reasonable (we paid less the $5 bucks) and the volunteer staff are both knowledgeable and very, very enthusiastic. I would love to visit the museum during the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, in which thousands of hot air balloons are launched nearby.

  

• Bandelier National Monument (near Santa Fe): This small national park is about a 45 minute drive from Santa Fe and centers on Frijoles Canyon, which, 600 years ago, was the home to several communities of Ancestral Puebloans. The canyon contains a large amount of restored ruins of a number of different dwellings and kivas. The Main Loop and Alcove House Trails wind their way along the canyon walls and you can climb ladders up the cliff sides to check out various caves and dwellings. The Falls Trail leads to some beautiful views and is nice if you'd like to do a longer hike.

• Riverbend Hot Springs (Truth or Consequences): The sleepy town of Truth or Consequences is famous for its little 1950's style developed hot springs motels and it seems like it would be hard to find a place better than the Riverbend. The Riverbend is a funky and inexpensive hot springs place located on the banks of the Rio Grande River. There are four public pools (you can also rent private tubs) that are all outdoors and feature great views. The hotel ranges from hostel style dorms to rooms with shared baths as well as full private rooms. The owners are very friendly and the water is great.
  
  
• The Black Hole of Los Alamos (Los Alamos): Los Alamos is a weird town. It has a population of around 13,000 people and about 10,000 of them all work at the same place. That place is the Los Alamos National Laboratory (LANL), the birthplace of the atomic bomb and one of the few known centers that, even today, does nuclear weapon research. There’s a fine and free museum in town that highlights all the benefits of nuclear energy and atomic weapons. However, the best place to check out is the Black Hole, a store that is self described as being a "recycler of nuclear waste". It’s a huge sprawling thrift shop that sells used equipment from the LANL. It sells everything from filing cabinets to atomic bomb detonator cables (only $5 each) and cryogenic equipment and Manhattan Project souvenirs. For some good background info on the store and the very interesting owner, Ed Grothus, check out this 2006 Esquire article. At any rate, you can spend hours wandering around the aisles of the Black Hole wondering what each thing did and wishing you could bring some parts home for that atomic powered robot that you were always planning on building.

• White Sands National Monument: The US is blessed to have many areas of open sand dunes and I’ve visited several of them. However, none of them compare to White Sands. The name is apt – the sand at White Sands is very white. It is white to the point of looking like salt or even snow and, when visiting in winter, it’s easy to imagine you’ve somehow took a wrong turn and ended up in Antarctica. At any rate, bring suntan lotion and sunglasses, and be sure to hike the whole loop of the Alkali Flats Trail.

• American International Rattlesnake Museum (Albuquerque): After entering through the large gift shop, I expected this place to be a somewhat cheesy tourist trap. However the museum was quite interesting. It features row after row of glass aquariums filled with rattlesnakes and other types of desert reptiles (including my favorite, Mollie the Gila Monster). In fact, it is home to the largest collection of different species of live rattlesnakes in the world, which are only separated from the visitor by thin panes of glass. It’s impossible, though, to leave the place without learning something, even if it’s only how beautiful some of the snakes can be.

• The Turquoise Trail: When driving between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, skip the Interstate and take the scenic route along Highway 14, also called the Turquoise Trail. This back road route winds its way through scenic and funky little towns. It’s definitely worth stretching your legs and grabbing a coffee in Madrid and Cerrillos.

• Burt’s Tiki Lounge (Albuquerque): Sometimes when you’re in a land locked state and you desperately need a tropical vacation, the easiest solution is to head for a tiki lounge. Burt’s Tiki Lounge, located downtown at 313 Gold Ave. SW, is the way to have a island holiday in a single night. It has affordable drinks, friendly bartenders, live music, and a weekly pub trivia contest (in which we managed to not even place in the top ten on the night we visited). Unlike some island bars, there's never a cover charge at Burt's.

• Blake’s Lotaburger (Everywhere): Why grab just another burger from just another national chain, when you can grab a lotaburger from a New Mexico chain? With 76 locations across the state, Blake’s Lotaburger serves some good burgers that can only be had in New Mexico. I recommend trying the a lotaburger with green chili.

• Free Museum Night (Santa Fe): Santa Fe is home to many nice museums and a lot of them are free on Friday nights after 5pm. Since many of the museums are close together (and some of the ones in the Plaza area are small), it’s easy to visit two or three before they close for the night.

If you haven’t already found it, I’ve posted a photo album from our trip. I’m sure there are more places and corners and cliffs and secrets to check out in New Mexico. I can’t wait to fire up my hot air balloon and hope that the wind currents carry me back there soon.

Keeping the Winter Doldrums Away: My Favorite Winter Hikes of 2008

I stumbled off the frozen trail and tumbled into a snow drift. Instantly, snow filled my hiking boots and it seemed as if the designers of my socks might have originally been employed in a sponge factory. Within minutes, my socks were cold, wet, and soggy. And I loved it.

Last year at this time, I was wasting away in the bleak doldum days of winter. This winter, though, thanks to a little travel and better weather, I’ve been fortunate to lace up my hiking boots, pull on my navy blue thermal underwear, button up my gore-tex jacket, yank on my hat, and do a number of interesting hikes.

Here then, rather obliquely, are excellent winter hikes that I’ve done in the last six weeks and that I wouldn’t hesitate to do again:

Hike: Ousel Falls
Location: Big Sky, Montana
Winter Rating: Easy, expect lots of packed snow

This short 1.5 mile hike gets enough foot traffic in winter that the snow on the trail gets packed down and no snow shoes or skis are needed. There is really only one main reason to hike this trail in winter: frozen water falls! Frozen water falls, quiet simply, justify the whole reason for shivering for the three or four months (or more in Montana) of winter every year. They are some of my favorite things on the planet and the ones at Ousel Falls are especially great.

The Ousel Falls trail, after descending from the parking lot, will eventually lead you to a few different falls. The main falls are wide and stretch the width of a narrow canyon forming a solid wall of ice. Before then, though, is an area with a number of smaller falls that form free standing ice columns. In winter, with no people around and the noise of a stream flowing under a layer of ice, Ousel Falls is a peaceful, beautiful hike.

To reach the trail head from the Big Sky entrance, drive 2.4 miles along the main Big Sky road. Turn left on Ousel Falls Road and continue for 2.1 miles to the well marked parking area.

Hike: Mount Helena
Location: Helena, Montana
Winter Rating: Moderate, trails can be icy

The capital city of Montana is lucky in that it claims an entire mountain as a city park. Mount Helena is covered with trails and the moderate hike to the top can be done it winter. The roughly four mile hike has an elevation gain of over a thousand feet, but it’s worth it. After you reach the top of the 5,500 foot peak, you’ll have a great view of the entire Helena Valley.

Be warned that snowy and icy winter conditions, combined with lots of foot traffic, can pack snow down on the trails and make them quite slippery. Trails that are exposed to sun (such as the Prospect Shafts Trail) tend to be easier. Hiking poles are recommended in winter. To reach the trail from downtown Helena, drive south on Park Avenue until you see the sign for Mount Helena City Park and the Reeders Village subdivision.

Hike: The Alkali Flats
Location: White Sands, New Mexico
Winter Rating: Easy to Moderate, wear sunscreen even in winter

White Sands National Monument is only located about 55 miles from the US-Mexico border. Yet, while hiking in the blindingly white sand dunes in January, it’s easy to imagine that you’re hiking somewhere north of the arctic circle. Your body and mind might be confused because, although it will be warm out, the view will seem like you’re hiking through miles of snow drifts and hills. The dunes at White Sands are not like other dunes I’ve visited. Instead, they are fairly hard packed, easy to hike through, and the color of fresh snow or sea salt.

The 5 mile Alkali Flat Trail loops it’s way from the heart of the dunes to the edge of the dry lake bed of Lake Otero (where the dunes form) and back again. Winter is an excellent time to go as the temperature is reasonable and the crowds are few. After the first two or three miles, you’ll likely not see many people at all. Be sure to bring sunglasses as the sand can be especially blinding.

White Sands is about three and a half hours from Albuquerque. To reach the trail head from the entrance to the park, follow the only road for about 7 miles to the far end of the loop until you see the marked trail head.

Hike: East Sooke Coast Trail
Location: Vancouver Island, British Columbia
Winter Rating: Easy to Moderate, rain gear is always a good idea

This trail is located only about 20 miles from where we live and it has become our default in that we hike it a lot during all times of the year. Winter along the south coast of Vancouver Island can be rainy and windy but usually the weather is fairly moderate and hiking is enjoyable if not somewhat muddy.

Our favorite stretch of the East Sooke Coast Trail is to hike from the Aylard Farm Parking Lot to Beechey Head, which takes roughly two hours round trip. The trail hugs the coast and is not flat – it involves the scaling of rocks, the traversing of tree roots, and the scrambling up of short hills. The view from Beechey Head, though, is truly spectacular and a fine place to drink a cup of hot tea and hang out for a bit. In winter, sea lions and bald eagles can often be seen.

East Sooke Regional Park is about a 45-minute drive from Victoria. To reach the Aylard Farm trail, take a left when Gillespie Road comes to a “T” intersection with East Sooke Road. Continue on East Sooke for five minutes and then take a right on Becher Bay Road to the park entrance.

Return to the Paria River Canyon: Desert Hiking Tips Learned the Hard Way

“What time is it in Utah?” Steve, our shuttle driver, asked as he surveyed a small Mormon community along the highway.

“Uh,” I started to say, trying to remember if we were currently on the Arizona or Utah side of the border.

“Fifty years ago,” he answered, chuckling at his own joke.

I found myself staring across the valley at the Vermilion Cliffs, somewhat surprised to be in Steve’s truck again. The landscape around the highway was stunningly beautiful. Any direction that I looked could have been a postcard. As he drove, Steve adjusted the air-conditioning between the high and low settings depending upon what type of high pitched whine emanated from the vents, and was eager to talk about both national and local politics.

Like last year, we hired Steve to shuttle us from the take out point at Lee’s Ferry to the trailhead at the Whitehouse Campground. As Steve drove, I found myself really not wanting to be in a car, but rather stopped somewhere admiring the view; taking a moment of stillness to appreciate the desert. I had been driving since early that morning. Two days earlier, I was in the green forest in the Pacific Northwest. As always, the transition from forest to desert could be a bit jarring.

Steve, with his Edward Abbey quotes and authentic pride in the wild lands that surround his home, was a friendly welcome back to the desert. After about an hour drive, he pointed out another polygamist compound and mentioned that he had one of the wives come speak about that book to a discussion group that he and his wife had formed. Shortly after, he turned off the highway and we rattled for a couple miles down a dusty dirt road.

At the Whitehouse Campground, my Mom crawled out of the backseat and we shook hands with Steve before watching him drive off. We walked up the short path to where we could see our family had pitched tents. My father, my brother, his girlfriend Steph, and Jen had set up our camp while Mom and I shuttled the cars to the other end of the trail. The campground was full – tents rose like bright colored mounds and domes from almost every corner.

That night we decided to hike the two miles along the dirt road back to the small ranger station near the highway to top off our water bottles. Jackrabbits, scared off by the sounds of our voices and footsteps, darted out into the desert as we walked. Above us, the cloudless sky slowly faded from a dark blue to black, and the sky rippled with more stars than I had seen in at least a year.

“Well,” my dad asked quietly, “Are you ready to hike it again?”

Here then, rather obliquely, are some tips that were learned the hard way:

Tip #1 - River Water Is Gross

Even in the best years, the Paria is more of a trickling creek than a river. Droughts or low rain fall can mean that the Paria River doesn’t really start flowing until about 11 or 12 miles south of the Whitehouse campground. I’ve been amazed when I see people filtering water out of muddy, stagnate, or generally foul looking puddles. The warm, shallow waters in the Paria are home to frogs, toads, snakes, mice, tadpoles, a surprisingly large number of animal carcasses, and some stuff that had been clinging to my feet that I washed off that afternoon.

In the Paria, there are enough fresh water springs to fill water bottles around every 11 miles or so - with the exception of the last day and half towards Lee’s Crossing and the entirety of Buckskin Gulch. If you have enough water bottles, I’d recommend planning and scheduling to take filter breaks at the springs (and even then, it's a good idea to filter the spring water, because despite what you may have heard, giardia will never make you popular at social gatherings). Relying as much as possible on the springs will make sure you get good, cold water and it will save lots of time, because filtering from rivers in the desert sucks.

Tip #2 – Filtering From Rivers In the Desert Sucks

That tired ache in your arm? The fact that you’ve been pumping for 20 minutes and have only filled half a Nalgene bottle? The little trickle of water that spurts out of your water filter even though you’re putting in enough energy to crush coal into diamonds? The answer is the sand and the sand is your enemy. Despite the fact that the water in the river might look like it is clear and clean – it isn’t. It’s full of sand.

Even with good planning for only filling water bottles at the springs, everyone ends up filtering out of the Paria at some point. The amazing amounts of sand and sediment in this little desert stream will quickly clog up a water filter. This year we used both ceramic and carbon filter pumps – by the end of the trip the carbon filter was useless and the ceramic filter took a lot of time and energy to pump and clean.

To make water filters last longer:

• Wrap a coffee filter around the end of the intake hose (the end you put in the river) and attach it with a rubber band. This will pre-filter some of the larger sediment.
  
• Bring a bucket – fill the bucket with water from the river and let it stand for a minute or two so the sediment will settle to the bottom. Filter directly from the bucket. If a bucket is too much trouble, you can do the same trick with a spare nalgene bottle.
  
• Bring iodine or some sort of water purification tablets. If you use a water filter, you should have these with you as a backup in case your filter clogs and fails. Likewise, we talked with a few hikers who don’t even bother with the filters when they are in the desert and just use the tablets. Personally, I find iodine water barely tastes better than warm puddle water that has been home to several generations of live tadpoles but I hear that some of the new purification tablets are getting better.

Tip #3 – Bring Plenty of Water Bottles

Access to water is usually not a problem in the Paria. However, having enough drinkable water with you at any given time will save long hikes to springs or having to filter stagnate water. I recommend having enough bottles for at least 3 liters per person.

If you are hiking via Wire Pass and the entire length of Buckskin Gulch, you should probably carry even more bottles as there is no source of fresh water in that 16-mile stretch.

Tip #4 – Wear Socks

Normally, remembering to bring socks on a backpacking trip is not a problem (underwear on the other hand…). However, since the Paria involves hiking in water a lot, it’s often preferable to hike in sandals such as Tevas. The same evil sand that likes to clog filters, though, finds its way under the straps of sandals and will rub the skin on innocent feet raw in less than half a day. These raw sore patches are worse than having blisters in a hiking boot and can quickly ruin the trip.

The sand is your enemy. Socks, though, are your friend. Wearing socks with your Teva’s or other sandals will prevent the sand from getting under the straps and rubbing your feet raw. In particular, neoprene socks, such as these sold at the MEC, seemed to work extra well and were popular with the folks that had them in our group this year.

If you have sandals that are extra adjustable (such as Chaco’s) or if your sandals are new, be sure you break them in and have them properly adjusted before the hike starts.

Tip #5 – Bring Shoes or Boots

Depending on the flow level of the Paria, it may end up that you spend a great deal of time not hiking in water. This year, we hiked for almost the first two days before we found any serious water flow. Hiking in a pair of old boots or shoes is a nice change from sandals, which are never the most comfortable after 10 miles with a 45 pound pack.

Tip #6 – Hiking Poles Help The Tired

The Paria River is a great place to use hiking poles and most hikers that we encountered had them. They help test whether or not you’ll sink up to your knees in the patch of mud ahead of you, you can use them to swordfight with your hiking buddies, and best of all, when you get tired towards the last mile of the day and start to stumble, they’ll save you from a really embarrassing fall. Uh, or so I hear.

Tip #7 – It’s the Little Things

A wet handkerchief or bandanna on the back of your neck will feel really good when it’s over 100 degrees out and you have several more miles to go before camp. Life’s too short to not bring good coffee, decent food (I recommend the Pad Thai), and a hat. Electric toothbrushes, however, are optional.

Tip #8 - Take Lots of Pictures

From the desert varnish staining the sides of red canyon walls to the shallow and glittering pools of the Paria to the red sands and green prickly pear, be sure to take lots of photos. Here are my photos from my 2007 Paria hike and from my 2006 Paria Hike (here's also my write-up of the hike from last year).

Tip #9 – Finally, Get a Good Book Written By a Real Expert

Hiking and Exploring the Paria River by Michael R. Kelsey gives a mile by mile history, great tips, advice, and an overview of the canyon and can make the hike more interesting. It’s the book that Steve recommends to people when they are sitting in his truck, admiring the view, and excited to begin the hike.

Scenes From My Only Visit to Key West

We peered through the rain cascading down the windshield; there still wasn’t any parking visible. We circled the block again.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said to Jen on the third loop. “I can hop out and get it and you and your grandma can circle around Duvall Street again and pick me up.”

I jumped out of the car. The water flowing down the street was at ankle level. “Pouring” was exactly what the rain was doing: lukewarm water was falling from the sky in thicker streams than it did in my shower that morning. And it had been for hours. I ran up the sidewalk and into the store.

The kid working behind the counter looked startled as I entered, as if he didn’t expect to see a customer.

“A banana split please,” I requested.

“Uh, we don’t have banana splits,” he said.

I looked back at the street. The windows in the ice cream store where fogged over but I could hear the rain on the ceiling. I sighed.

“Do you have sundaes?” I asked.

“Sure, hot fudge and you’ll get two types of ice-cream.”

“Okay,” I said. “Make it chocolate, and, uh…” I quickly scanned the flavors, “cookie dough.”

The kid filled up a cup with the ice cream and hot fudge and handed it to me. “That will be $7.23.”

I winced.

I paid the kid, took the ice cream, and went back outside. I could see Jen’s grandmother’s car – a Ford Taurus with stuffed animals in the back window – creeping around the corner. I ran down the sidewalk and jumped in the backseat.

“Here’s your ice cream, Edith.” I said to Jen’s grandmother who recently turned 90.

“Look at him, he’s soaked, you should have taken an umbrella, I have an umbrella in the trunk. Why didn’t you take the umbrella?”

“I don’t mind the rain, Edith. It’s warm,” I said for the at least the eighth time that day. I handed her the ice cream.

“Okay, okay let’s go home. We need to get gas, they’ll be lines at the station. There’s only one road in and one road out and we’ll be safer at home.”

“Grandma, were staying another night here. We’ve already paid for the hotel. All our stuff is at the hotel,” Jen stated again, “This isn’t a hurricane, just some rain.”

“It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow and it’ll be safer to drive when it’s not raining,” I added, trying to put enthusiasm into my voice.

Edith pauses and takes a bite of the ice cream. She eyes the round cup it’s in suspiciously. “This is a funny shaped container for a banana split.”

“Um, they didn’t have banana splits.” I said. “I got you an ice cream sundae.”

“No bananas?” Jen asked.

“No bananas?” Jen’s grandmother asked.

“That was going to be the only healthy part of her dinner,” Jen said.

“Oh,” I say.

“Is it chocolate ice cream? That’s what Grandma wanted.” Jen asked.

“Sure.” I replied, deciding to keep quiet about the cookie dough.

We drove back to the hotel mostly in silence - Jen and I not talking and Edith continuing her ongoing conversation with us. Edith's room was up a small flight of two stairs and she had to leave her walker at the bottom and hold on to both Jen and my arms as she climbed the steps. I held the sundae in my other hand.

“Look at me,” Edith said while we help her up the steps. “I never thought I’d need help walking. I’m sorry you have to be slowed down by an old lady. I used to climb mountains.”

“Don’t be silly, Grandma,” Jen replied as she did every time we helped her up and down the steps.

The next morning, we stopped by Edith’s room to help her to breakfast. The bed was made and her one suitcase was packed. Edith turned to me.

“That was the strangest sundae. The chocolate had something chewy in it.”

I didn’t say anything.

Of Memory and Remembrance

My grandfather leaned slightly forward on his cane as he shuffled down the dark hallway. He was wearing a turquoise blue suit and his feet were bare. In the hand not holding his cane, he carried a pair of dark dress shoes. He shuffled into the living room and took his usual seat, a slightly passive maneuver in which he appeared to slowly lower himself until gravity took over and pulled him into the couch with a gentle fall.

Grandpa set his shoes on the ground next to the couch and leaned forward, both hands on his cane, his head hung down. After a minute he leaned forward, pulled a pair of bright blue socks, which matched his dress shirt, out of his pocket and began putting them on.

“What time is the funeral?” he asked and a wave of sadness crashed over me.

“It was two days ago,” my great Uncle Darrell called loudly from across the room. “On Wednesday.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” said my Grandpa. He paused and looked down at himself. “What am I getting all dressed up for?”

No one answered.

***

The room where the hotel sat up the breakfast buffet was strangely crowded on Christmas morning. Retirees and families with young children cramped around small tables. No one talked to Jen and me as we sleepily foraged for food, me trying to get the waffle machine to stop beeping and Jen searching out a healthy box of cereal buried amongst the pyramid of mini-boxes of fruit loops and corn pops.

We had flown into Nevada the day before, which the official calendar labeled Christmas Eve, but had been rebranded this year simply as Two Days After my Grandmother Died. My grandparents' house, a place that had been my childhood all-inclusive resort, had slowly filled up with relatives. For the first time in my life, I found myself staying at a motel in their hometown.

It was a shock to be back in Nevada and the void that my grandmother left behind was huge. I remembered how she felt so frail when I had hugged her for the last time back in May. She was so small and thin. I also remembered the sharp tug of pain on my scalp during the childhood haircuts she used to give me. Her strong fingers, which had been trained at beauty school, impatiently tugged my cowlicks as she trimmed my hair.

I would squirm.

“Did I hurt you?” She would always ask and I would shake my head no, and she would continue pulling and parting my hair as she snipped it with scissors.

***

That afternoon, two days after the funeral, we drove up to the cemetery. Grandpa sat in the passenger seat and Dad drove. Getting out of the car, we unfolded Grandpa’s walker from the trunk and insisted that he use it to walk over the grass.

The grave site was flat, squares of sod covered what had been a rectangular hole only two days before. The flowers which sat on top of Grandma’s coffin at the funeral now lay on the grass, slowly wilting. Jen took a picture of us looking down at the site.

The funeral home had placed a small placard on the ground next to the flowers. “Temporary Marker,” it said, followed by my Grandma’s name. “Serentiy LC, Lot 52145, Concrete Liner,” it concluded callously. The barren mountains of the Nevada desert could be seen in the distance.

Grandpa looked silently for a moment. “She was a wonderful wife,” he said abruptly, his voice breaking quietly. “She’s left me, but that’s not her fault, she had a weak heart.”

The ocean of sadness that I had been wading in all week swelled and crashed into me again. I struggled, unsuccessful as always, to hold back my tears.

“Oh sure, we had our ups and downs, but we always worked things out. We had a lot of wonderful times. She was a good woman,” Grandpa said. Tears formed behind his glasses and I could see his eyes were red. I looked away. Before this week I had never seen my Grandfather cry.

“You have to keep those good times and remember them,” my dad said, hugging his father.

I watched the blinking radio antennae lights on top of the mountain behind the mortuary.

***

In the picture, the young couple is sitting in the park. In front of them, a tow-headed boy of about three or four grins. The man has his shirt off and the woman is wearing a broad and modest swimsuit top.

The first thing I notice when I look at the picture is how good looking the couple is. Then I see the familiar pattern under the surface of the movie star couple: the eyes and high cheekbones of the woman, the chin and mischievous smile of the man. These strangers, who appear to be younger than myself, are my grandparents. The smiling boy wearing suspenders without a shirt is my dad.

The next thing I notice about the picture is how muscular the young man - my Grandfather - is. A mix of following the Charles Atlas plan and working as a welder has given him the type of muscles that you only see in magazines and movies. His arms look powerful and I wonder momentarily what this tough guy would think of me at his age: a stocky book nerd. I don’t wonder very long because even in this faded black and white image, I can see it. In that grainy smile, there’s a sense of his gentleness and of a good natured personality that are so tied up in my mind with the concept of “Grandfather” that I always feel a bit awed to know that’s what everyone sees in him.

***

The TV was on that evening, as it always was as my grandparents grew older. I smiled to myself as I remembered how my grandma used to like to watch Walker, Texas Ranger. “Chuckie-Baby!” she would call the star.

My dad sat in a chair across the room reading the newspaper, everyone else had gone to sleep. I sat on the couch next to Grandpa. He watched whatever it was tuned to, although it was hard to know if he was following the show or if he was somewhere else, lost in his personal fog. I sat there, dreading the approaching moment when I would say goodnight and thus goodbye as I was flying out early the next morning.

“Will,” Grandpa said suddenly, “Did your Grandmother pass on?”

The ocean of sadness was in me now, behind my eyes.

“Yeah, Grandpa, she died earlier this week.”

“Oh, that’s what I thought.”

“The funeral was a couple of days ago, on Wednesday,” I said. “You dressed up really nice in a suit and Mom gave the eulogy. Lots of people came from your old Church and Luther and Joanne got up and talked about Grandma. We went out and visited her grave today.”

I handed him the stack of pictures that Jen and I had rush-developed that evening. Grandpa took that stack and looked at images of himself looking at Grandma’s grave, of the flowers and the temporary marker.

He looked for a minute longer and then sat the pictures down.

“She was a good woman,” he paused. “I miss her.”

“I miss her too,” I said.

***

Shortly after the pastor finished the closing prayer, the funeral director stepped forward. “This concludes our graveside services,” he said. “It’s important to talk about her, especially to the young ones, so they will remember her.”

I thought about my Grandma’s lemon pie, something my Mom had mentioned in the eulogy. Lemon pie was something she always made when we visited.

“It’s too tart,” Grandma would inevitably complain after taking a bite.

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” Grandpa would always answer.