29 October 2008
Canyonlands
These pics are outtakes from my recent trip. I've obviously doctored most of them up a bit. None of them is singularly spectacular, hence the need for doctoring, but each shows an aspect of Canyonlands I like.
27 October 2008
First Time In Logan
I drove up to Logan yesterday to visit Kregg and Isabella and their kids. ...and their dog and cat. I tried to steal their cat but couldn't find her when I left. So anyway, Kregg and Isabella and the kids and I enjoyed some sushi there in Logan. Shenanigans ensued, of course, with spitting water from straws followed by Isabella's stern warning not to do so anymore or straws would be taken away. When I pointed out HER straw wasn't taken away, she seemed less than appreciative somehow. It's always fun to watch parents try to hide their smiles when trying to be stern with their children. It brings warmth to my heart.
After lunch, we headed just outside of town to the American West Heritage Center farm, where we rode horse-drawn wagons, ate delectable pumpkin bread from the summer kitchen, watched terrible old silent short films, and ran through the fairly big corn maze, complete with an attempted potty stop (long story). The pumpkins varied from cute to concerned to vomitous. Kregg was very proud of his green puking pumpkin, but I unfortunately didn't get a pic of that. In any case, we had a lot of fun, but it was all too brief, and they were off to Lagoon for the evening with relatives. We decided we must do it again soon.
Afterwards, I met up with Ryan (who rode with me up to Logan) and Ryan (who lives there), and we played some Mario Kart 64 and took a jaunt up the canyon before meeting another friend for dinner (after stopping so I could take some pics of the Logan temple).
When I asked if there was Thai or Indian food in Logan (half in jest), they suggested Tandoori Oven, which they described as a sort of small gas stationy place. As Ryan and I followed the other two there, I told him, "If this turns out to actually be a gas station, ..." and he piped in, "I reserve the right to veto it." "Exactly," I affirmed. As we drove into the gas station parking lot, in a brief moment of redemption, it appeared to be a separate restaurant in a small building with two or three stores. Then we watched someone walk directly from the restaurant to the convenience store without stepping outside. It was the same place. What the...? We stayed 'cause it smelled good. We were not disappointed. The food was actually really good, and the ambience was nice, except when you had to walk through the convenience store to get to the bathroom. But that could come in handy. Say you had a headache and needed to pick up some Advil, or you wanted Doritos with your saag paneer, or...you just realized you were fresh out of Trojans? Hey, all sorts of needs met right around the corner from your table without having to go outside.
Anyway, after some good 4-way Mario Kart action, Ryan and I headed back off the mountain back to the valleys we call home. I'll not be a stranger to Logan anymore.
After lunch, we headed just outside of town to the American West Heritage Center farm, where we rode horse-drawn wagons, ate delectable pumpkin bread from the summer kitchen, watched terrible old silent short films, and ran through the fairly big corn maze, complete with an attempted potty stop (long story). The pumpkins varied from cute to concerned to vomitous. Kregg was very proud of his green puking pumpkin, but I unfortunately didn't get a pic of that. In any case, we had a lot of fun, but it was all too brief, and they were off to Lagoon for the evening with relatives. We decided we must do it again soon.
Afterwards, I met up with Ryan (who rode with me up to Logan) and Ryan (who lives there), and we played some Mario Kart 64 and took a jaunt up the canyon before meeting another friend for dinner (after stopping so I could take some pics of the Logan temple).
When I asked if there was Thai or Indian food in Logan (half in jest), they suggested Tandoori Oven, which they described as a sort of small gas stationy place. As Ryan and I followed the other two there, I told him, "If this turns out to actually be a gas station, ..." and he piped in, "I reserve the right to veto it." "Exactly," I affirmed. As we drove into the gas station parking lot, in a brief moment of redemption, it appeared to be a separate restaurant in a small building with two or three stores. Then we watched someone walk directly from the restaurant to the convenience store without stepping outside. It was the same place. What the...? We stayed 'cause it smelled good. We were not disappointed. The food was actually really good, and the ambience was nice, except when you had to walk through the convenience store to get to the bathroom. But that could come in handy. Say you had a headache and needed to pick up some Advil, or you wanted Doritos with your saag paneer, or...you just realized you were fresh out of Trojans? Hey, all sorts of needs met right around the corner from your table without having to go outside.
Anyway, after some good 4-way Mario Kart action, Ryan and I headed back off the mountain back to the valleys we call home. I'll not be a stranger to Logan anymore.
21 October 2008
Sketchy Hostels and Other Moaby Fun
Four of us headed off for a brief weekend in beautiful southern Utah. We stopped in Price at a Mexican place (Ryan somehow thought loading up on beans was an excellent pre-tent activity), where we had a good time chatting and overhearing the back-country banter of the locals behind us.
After a couple more hours, we arrived in the Moab area sometime after 11 pm and drove around looking for a camp site. We knew the hotels were full due to an annual bike race that week, and the hostel was booked, but we figured camping (which is what we wanted anyway) would be more available. There's no shortage of camp sites in the area by Canyonlands and Arches, but after probably 2 hours of searching and shining headlights into far too many camp sites, we resorted to a cramped spot in the hostel grounds at the Lazy Lizard where the attendant said he'd let us stay for $6.53. And it was worth...well...every penny. We were too tired to care, at that point, that the place looked not unlike a refugee camp and included a couple of shady characters lurking in the shadows. Dallin kept saying we were going to die. I told him that may be, but it was a place to sleep. He agreed. Sleep was worth risking death at that point.
The next day, after freshening up in the remarkable sketchiness they call a restroom, we were off to Canyonlands. We had a day full of sight-seeing, hiking, rock-throwing, talking with cute park volunteers, meeting a cool German lady who was touring all over the U.S. with her husband, watching a tiny Asian woman try to stand upright under the teetering weight of a camera bigger than she was (I'm sad I missed that), a random old biker bearing his hairy all while changing at the visitors' center (not sad I missed that), and wondering how far we'd get on the fumes of gas we had left while trying not to ask for emergency fuel because the park "is not a gas station," as one park ranger reminded me at least 5 times.
In the evening, we ate at Pasta Jay's, where Ryan and I partook in a Roman Orgy (relax, it's a pizza), then we ("we" meaning everyone but me) grabbed some ice cream and perused Moab's main street. We checked out a used book store and a CD/video exchange store, where we bought a couple of movies and went back to the hostel for some laptop movie-watching before crashing (see last picture for more on the hostel experience).
The next morning, we all freshened up and put on our Moab Sunday best (non-filthy casual clothes), said good-bye to the hostel we'd grown to love, and went to sacrament meeting at the local ward. A few surprisingly tolerable emergency preparedness talks and a lovely musical number later, we headed back home.
It seems like a pain to go camping and make such a quick trip, and that hostel was sketchy, but y'know, I'd do it again. Next time, though, I think I'd like to see Goblin Valley and the Needles area of Canyonlands.
OK, a few pictures from the trip:
Standing on Mesa Arch. I took this at entirely the wrong angle, but hey, I'll get over it. Nothing says "I love and respect nature" like standing on top of it. It just has to be done.
Funny how you look at things from a different angle and realize exactly how precarious your situation was.
Greg giving me his best "Why do you take so many pictures?" look, Dallin posing for his glamour shot (he claims he was laying down to deal with his height-induced panic attack, but we know the truth), and Ryan...being Ryan.
It really is an impressive expanse beyond Mesa Arch.
The tree troll.
Classic Mesa Arch shot. That's what we were standing on.
When the face perked up, and the tongue came out, we all knew Ryan had found another lizard to hunt. Finally, someone who likes to harrass wildlife as much as I do! Except, I prefer to call it "connecting with nature". I was going to take a picture or two of this cool, gnarled piece of tree, but lizard-hunting took priority.
First catch of the day! It was a small one, so we threw it back and kept looking for one of legal size to eat.
An attempt at scale. It's kind of impossible to capture.
Another pic for scale. We later climbed up that mound, of course.
I think this was supposed to be our "hot" shot, but I'm afraid it's not quite what it was supposed to be. I look more like a dull-headed guy who doesn't get the joke, Ryan's kind of "I'm here to fix your broken appliance", Greg appears to be trying to scratch his butt without anyone noticing, and Dallin appears to be in the middle of a drunken hiccupburp.
Take THAT, protected national park!
Dallin and Ryan throw bits of Canyonlands into the vast valley while Greg, now penitent from his rock-throwing ways, says a prayer over the rocks as they fall to their demise.
I like to call this one "assisted erosion".
There's something deeply satisfying and primal about throwing big rocks off of high cliffs and listening to the sound of impact, not to mention the cool whooshing sound as they fall through the air.
Ryan got bored throwing rocks off the cliff and started throwing them at people, starting with me.
Dallin contemplates his own insignificance...
...then pees off a huge cliff 'cause it's just fun.
The road to the hostel. Imagine our trepidation driving down this little alley at 1:30 am. I won't lie, I was a little giddy.
The Lazy Lizard. This place was pure magic, from the drunken lady two tents town to the hippie cleaning lady to the permanent mini Mexican colony...beautiful hostel sketchiness everywhere.
You can tell by the sign that this is a luxurious establishment. International, even. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you too could stay here for just $6.53/night split four ways.
Our camp site in the corner of the hostel grounds. The kid across from us wandered around in the shadiest way in the middle of the night, like he was seeking his next victim...or something. The Mexicans had B-movies blaring from next door and yelled a lot of terrible Mexican slang, and one of them sounded decidedly gay, which when I think about it is kind of an oddity. I never saw the next-door neighbors on the other side--nobody went in or came out. They were ninja campers. Then there was the drunken lady shouting for Daniel late at night, followed by moaning in the most awkward way (we were trying to figure out if she was about to throw up or if she had a "visitor"...it was kind of hard to tell, but neither option was exactly palatable). Add on top of that the dog over the fence who seemed to have a penchant for barking at the wind and slurping up large quantities of water on what must have been the point just on the opposite side of the fence, and you have a delightfully bad hostel experience. I'd do it again.
After a couple more hours, we arrived in the Moab area sometime after 11 pm and drove around looking for a camp site. We knew the hotels were full due to an annual bike race that week, and the hostel was booked, but we figured camping (which is what we wanted anyway) would be more available. There's no shortage of camp sites in the area by Canyonlands and Arches, but after probably 2 hours of searching and shining headlights into far too many camp sites, we resorted to a cramped spot in the hostel grounds at the Lazy Lizard where the attendant said he'd let us stay for $6.53. And it was worth...well...every penny. We were too tired to care, at that point, that the place looked not unlike a refugee camp and included a couple of shady characters lurking in the shadows. Dallin kept saying we were going to die. I told him that may be, but it was a place to sleep. He agreed. Sleep was worth risking death at that point.
The next day, after freshening up in the remarkable sketchiness they call a restroom, we were off to Canyonlands. We had a day full of sight-seeing, hiking, rock-throwing, talking with cute park volunteers, meeting a cool German lady who was touring all over the U.S. with her husband, watching a tiny Asian woman try to stand upright under the teetering weight of a camera bigger than she was (I'm sad I missed that), a random old biker bearing his hairy all while changing at the visitors' center (not sad I missed that), and wondering how far we'd get on the fumes of gas we had left while trying not to ask for emergency fuel because the park "is not a gas station," as one park ranger reminded me at least 5 times.
In the evening, we ate at Pasta Jay's, where Ryan and I partook in a Roman Orgy (relax, it's a pizza), then we ("we" meaning everyone but me) grabbed some ice cream and perused Moab's main street. We checked out a used book store and a CD/video exchange store, where we bought a couple of movies and went back to the hostel for some laptop movie-watching before crashing (see last picture for more on the hostel experience).
The next morning, we all freshened up and put on our Moab Sunday best (non-filthy casual clothes), said good-bye to the hostel we'd grown to love, and went to sacrament meeting at the local ward. A few surprisingly tolerable emergency preparedness talks and a lovely musical number later, we headed back home.
It seems like a pain to go camping and make such a quick trip, and that hostel was sketchy, but y'know, I'd do it again. Next time, though, I think I'd like to see Goblin Valley and the Needles area of Canyonlands.
OK, a few pictures from the trip:
Standing on Mesa Arch. I took this at entirely the wrong angle, but hey, I'll get over it. Nothing says "I love and respect nature" like standing on top of it. It just has to be done.
Funny how you look at things from a different angle and realize exactly how precarious your situation was.
Greg giving me his best "Why do you take so many pictures?" look, Dallin posing for his glamour shot (he claims he was laying down to deal with his height-induced panic attack, but we know the truth), and Ryan...being Ryan.
It really is an impressive expanse beyond Mesa Arch.
The tree troll.
Classic Mesa Arch shot. That's what we were standing on.
When the face perked up, and the tongue came out, we all knew Ryan had found another lizard to hunt. Finally, someone who likes to harrass wildlife as much as I do! Except, I prefer to call it "connecting with nature". I was going to take a picture or two of this cool, gnarled piece of tree, but lizard-hunting took priority.
First catch of the day! It was a small one, so we threw it back and kept looking for one of legal size to eat.
An attempt at scale. It's kind of impossible to capture.
Another pic for scale. We later climbed up that mound, of course.
I think this was supposed to be our "hot" shot, but I'm afraid it's not quite what it was supposed to be. I look more like a dull-headed guy who doesn't get the joke, Ryan's kind of "I'm here to fix your broken appliance", Greg appears to be trying to scratch his butt without anyone noticing, and Dallin appears to be in the middle of a drunken hiccupburp.
Take THAT, protected national park!
Dallin and Ryan throw bits of Canyonlands into the vast valley while Greg, now penitent from his rock-throwing ways, says a prayer over the rocks as they fall to their demise.
I like to call this one "assisted erosion".
There's something deeply satisfying and primal about throwing big rocks off of high cliffs and listening to the sound of impact, not to mention the cool whooshing sound as they fall through the air.
Ryan got bored throwing rocks off the cliff and started throwing them at people, starting with me.
Dallin contemplates his own insignificance...
...then pees off a huge cliff 'cause it's just fun.
The road to the hostel. Imagine our trepidation driving down this little alley at 1:30 am. I won't lie, I was a little giddy.
The Lazy Lizard. This place was pure magic, from the drunken lady two tents town to the hippie cleaning lady to the permanent mini Mexican colony...beautiful hostel sketchiness everywhere.
You can tell by the sign that this is a luxurious establishment. International, even. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you too could stay here for just $6.53/night split four ways.
Our camp site in the corner of the hostel grounds. The kid across from us wandered around in the shadiest way in the middle of the night, like he was seeking his next victim...or something. The Mexicans had B-movies blaring from next door and yelled a lot of terrible Mexican slang, and one of them sounded decidedly gay, which when I think about it is kind of an oddity. I never saw the next-door neighbors on the other side--nobody went in or came out. They were ninja campers. Then there was the drunken lady shouting for Daniel late at night, followed by moaning in the most awkward way (we were trying to figure out if she was about to throw up or if she had a "visitor"...it was kind of hard to tell, but neither option was exactly palatable). Add on top of that the dog over the fence who seemed to have a penchant for barking at the wind and slurping up large quantities of water on what must have been the point just on the opposite side of the fence, and you have a delightfully bad hostel experience. I'd do it again.
14 October 2008
13 October 2008
Cats Synopsis
Following is a little video I put together from a recording a couple of weeks ago at a Greg's house: his retelling of an old lady's synopsis of Cats, the musical, and I think it's the best @#$% synopsis I've ever heard.
11 October 2008
Movies That Scarred My Young Psyche
OK, train of thought: when I read the title to my last post, I Thought That I Was Strong, it made me think (I know, this is random) of the Rock Biter from The Neverending Story in that totally melancholy scene towards the end where he says, "They look like good, strong hands, don't they?" And it got me thinking about The Neverending Story (yes, I own it on DVD) and how much I loved that movie as a kid. And how tragic and intense some kids' movies were back then. Or were they really no more intense than modern kids' movies and I just remember them that way 'cause they seemed intense when I was in preschool? Hm.
So then I wasted a bunch of time watching clips on YouTube, which I of course have to share for the sheer nostalgia of it all. So I've embedded several clips from kids' movies that I figure must've warped an entire generation of children. The mature themes, the dark styles, the cheap effects, the gender ambiguity... They're the kind of movies that you only love, it seems, if you saw them as a kid. And if you didn't see them as a kid, you probably think, "No wonder my friends who watched these as kids seem a bit...off."
Let's begin with the twisted world of The Dark Crystal:
You know the part where the mystics do their "Aaawww" chant? I always think of watching this with Lynette, Miriam, and gang, and Miriam saying it's like the High Priests' group. And of course, Javier and I are convinced one of the men in the ward we've occasionally attended is a mystic. The resemblance is striking.
The next clip I'm including just for any of you who are wondering where one of my peculiar sounds comes from. Gotta love the skekses--these things freaked me out:
Next we have the saucy little jaunt, The Labyrinth:
I'll begin with one of the most endearing characters:
And of course, who could forget this catchy ditty by David Bowie in those shudder-inducing tights?
And who could forget these seriously unsettling beasts? Like Fraggles on acid:
And then possibly my favorite movie of my childhood, post-Wizard of Oz, The Neverending Story. This movie freaked me out, made me sad, and inspired me. It's funny how many little lessons I gleaned from this beautifully 80s fantasy.
First, possibly the saddest scene I remember watching as a kid. I'll get it out of the way first:
And the scene with the Gmork in which we learn of the importance of dreaming and imagining. I didn't realize, at the time, that the Gmork had such a flare for the socio-political:
And finally, the scene that started this whole waste of time on YouTube. The Rock Biter after losing his friends:
I could show others, like the Ivory Tower, or the Southern Oracle (who could forget those huge blue bosoms?), but I think I'll sign out with a video I hadn't seen before now but which is so wonderfully, terribly 80s I have to share it. Behold a music video for the song from The Neverending Story:
So then I wasted a bunch of time watching clips on YouTube, which I of course have to share for the sheer nostalgia of it all. So I've embedded several clips from kids' movies that I figure must've warped an entire generation of children. The mature themes, the dark styles, the cheap effects, the gender ambiguity... They're the kind of movies that you only love, it seems, if you saw them as a kid. And if you didn't see them as a kid, you probably think, "No wonder my friends who watched these as kids seem a bit...off."
Let's begin with the twisted world of The Dark Crystal:
You know the part where the mystics do their "Aaawww" chant? I always think of watching this with Lynette, Miriam, and gang, and Miriam saying it's like the High Priests' group. And of course, Javier and I are convinced one of the men in the ward we've occasionally attended is a mystic. The resemblance is striking.
The next clip I'm including just for any of you who are wondering where one of my peculiar sounds comes from. Gotta love the skekses--these things freaked me out:
Next we have the saucy little jaunt, The Labyrinth:
I'll begin with one of the most endearing characters:
And of course, who could forget this catchy ditty by David Bowie in those shudder-inducing tights?
And who could forget these seriously unsettling beasts? Like Fraggles on acid:
And then possibly my favorite movie of my childhood, post-Wizard of Oz, The Neverending Story. This movie freaked me out, made me sad, and inspired me. It's funny how many little lessons I gleaned from this beautifully 80s fantasy.
First, possibly the saddest scene I remember watching as a kid. I'll get it out of the way first:
And the scene with the Gmork in which we learn of the importance of dreaming and imagining. I didn't realize, at the time, that the Gmork had such a flare for the socio-political:
And finally, the scene that started this whole waste of time on YouTube. The Rock Biter after losing his friends:
I could show others, like the Ivory Tower, or the Southern Oracle (who could forget those huge blue bosoms?), but I think I'll sign out with a video I hadn't seen before now but which is so wonderfully, terribly 80s I have to share it. Behold a music video for the song from The Neverending Story:
10 October 2008
I Thought That I Was Strong
Sara Bareilles is at her best performing live, I think, without the poppy orchestration on her album tracks. Beautiful.
08 October 2008
Temple Square and State Capitol
On my way back from Teton Nat'l Park two weekends ago, I stopped in Salt Lake to visit Toffer and decided to loiter for a couple of hours snapping pictures in and around temple square. I don't have much of a narrative for it, but here are some of the results.
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