CALIFORNIA OR BUST: Celebrating the 14th Anniversary of The Intrepid Tourist

The Scheaffer family at the Continental Divide, Colorado, August 1958.

It was fourteen years ago, in April 2011, that I launched The Intrepid Tourist as a platform for my travel writing. Since then I have put up a new post once a week, usually on a Monday. At first, the posts were articles based on my own travel. Over the years the blog has expanded to include posts from family and friends and currently totals more than 700 posts, seen by more than a half a million readers. In honor of this fourteenth anniversary I am posting a chapter from my memoir, Settlement House Girl, about my family’s cross-country trip in 1958 from Minneapolis to California and back. It was the most exciting trip we had ever taken and whetted my appetite to see more of the world.

California or Bust

T

he summer that I am fourteen (1958), our family embarks on an ambitious five week camping trip, packing the six of us into our 1954 Chevrolet Belair sedan for the journey from Minneapolis to California and back.  While my father has a long summer vacation, we don’t have the money to afford expensive trips--staying in hotels and eating in restaurants. The solution is car camping--staying at public campgrounds and cooking our own food.  Prior to that summer my mother had resisted going camping, insisting that it is too much work and not a vacation. But in 1958, my brother Tom is eight and Peter nine and old enough to help out. Steve and I have learned camping skills at overnights and cookouts as campers at Camp Bovey.

We buy two tents, sleeping bags, a camp stove, kerosene lantern, and set of nesting kettles. To prepare for the trip, we practice setting up camp in the backyard, much to our neighbors’ amusement as they watch from the other side of the fence. We each have a role. Keeping time with a stopwatch, my father directs the action: unfolding and spreading out the tent, pounding the stakes, erecting the umbrella support poles, propping up the rain flap. By the end of July we have the routine down pat and are ready to go.

Never before have any of us seen mountains, deserts, or the ocean. We feel like ancient explorers ready to discover a new land. Leaving Minneapolis and the rolling farmland of southern Minnesota behind, we cross the South Dakota prairie (with an obligatory stop at Wall Drug for photos and souvenirs), to our first campsite in the Black Hills, where we marvel at the giant heads on Mount Rushmore and the herds of shaggy bison roaming the plains.

Our next stop is Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado, pitching our tents in the thin Alpine air. We hike along the mountain trails and get caught in a sudden snowstorm, amazed to encounter snow in summer.  We spot plump pikas harvesting grass to sun dry before they store it in underground burrows for winter. We watch water ouzels forage at the bottom of icy streams fed by melting mountain snow. I sit on a rock and stick my bare toes in the rushing water, but they quickly turn numb--which makes me wonder how the birds stay warm.

Caroline and her brothers at Mesa Verde.

From Rocky Mountain National Park we drive across the Continental Divide to the town of Montrose in western Colorado for a family reunion with my cousins.  From there we go to Mesa Verde National Park, pitching our tent at the edge of the mesa and, like the ancient cliff dwellers, cook our food over an open fire. It is easy to imagine our campsite as a place where the Anasazi might have tilled the ground to plant corn and beans or hunted deer and wild turkeys with bows and arrows. As we gaze into the canyon below we see a complex of square buildings built into the cliff wall a thousand years ago. My brothers and I delight in scrambling up and down the ladders of the cliff dwellings and investigating the open rooms. Protected from wind and weather by the overhanging rocks, the basic structure has changed little over time.

Inside the museum I peer at fine baskets, intricately decorated pots, carved stone and bone tools and other artifacts, and wonder about the ancient Americans who made them and why around 1300 AD they abandoned their homes. In the museum shop, I buy a small painting of a dancing figure by Navajo artist Harrison Begay. Outside, on the patio, a Native American man is constructing an elaborate sand painting, pouring colored grains to make tiny figures and geometric designs. We leave before the “painting” is complete, knowing that it is temporary, meant for tourists to see the artist at work. I learn that according to Navajo tradition, such paintings are part of healing ceremonies, destroyed after the ceremony is over.  

From Mesa Verde we head to Southern California to visit our cousins in a Los Angeles suburb. Our car has no air conditioning, so we cross the desert at night. Stars sparkle overhead in the clear, dry air as we speed down the highway. I can't imagine that anything could possibly live in such a barren, alien land. We arrive at my cousins’ house long past midnight and pitch our tents in their backyard. 

In Southern California I have my first view of the ocean and of waves taller than I am. Although I have been to Lake Michigan, a body of water so big that one can’t see to the other side, the Pacific is almost incomprehensible in its vastness. In tide pools along the shore I discover sea urchins, tiny crabs, and bright red sea stars. When I venture into the water to swim, a wave catches me by surprise and knocks me over. I can taste the salt on my tongue.

At the Minnesota state line.

On our return trip to Minneapolis we take a more northern route, stopping at the Grand Canyon; Salt Lake City; and Yellowstone National Park. It is one thing to read about ancient rock formations, the Mormon Temple, boiling rock pools and giant geysers, and another to see them in real life. This trip gives us all a taste of the infinite variety of our world and whets my appetite to see more of it.

Arriving home in Minneapolis.

SETTLEMENT HOUSE GIRL: Growing Up in the 1950s at North East Neighborhood House, Minnepolis, Minnesota is available at Amazon (paperback or ebook) or to order at your favorite bookstore. ISBN 9798864903285

WHERE IN THE WORLD? Celebrating the Third Anniversary of The Intrepid Tourist

Greenwich, England, Prime Meridian

From the time I was young and followed the progress of our family road trips on the map as I sat in the back seat of the car, I have always been fascinated with geography–both the actual places that we drove through and the lines on the map marking arbitrary divisions between towns, states and countries. I love reading atlases and finding geographic markers on the globe. In celebration of the third anniversary of The Intrepid Tourist I would like to share a few photos that mark some of the geographic points I have personally visited.

My parents and three brothers at the Continental Divide, 1958

The oldest is a family photo at the Continental Divide I took with my Brownie camera on our trip in 1958 from Minneapolis to California.  That trip was the first time any of us had seen mountains–Minnesota, by comparison, being a relatively flat state. We were all suitably impressed.  At Monarch pass, elevation 11,312 feet, we read that water flowing to the east ended up in the Gulf of Mexico and water flowing to the west, in the Pacific.

Standing on Four States at once at the Four Corners, 1990

On that same trip our family camped for several days at Mesa Verde in Colorado. As we headed south we drove through the four corners area where Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah meet.  Many years later I was in southwestern Colorado again researching my book, The Ancient Cliff Dwellers of Mesa Verde, with Richard Hewett, the photographer of the book.  On our way back to Los Angeles, we stopped at the Four Corners marker and took pictures.

Caroline in the Northern Hemisphere, Jennifer in the Southern Hemisphere

Another historic photo is the picture of me and my daughter Jennifer taken on the Equator in Uganda in 1971.  Two things impressed me about being on the Equator. I had expected it to be hot, but, in fact, due to the elevation, the climate in Uganda was quite comfortable even in summer. As expected, the sun was almost directly overhead at noon. What surprised me was how quickly it became dark when the sun set.  Conversely, at dawn the sun just seemed to pop over the horizon, and suddenly it was day.

When I was in Turkey two years ago, I crossed the bridge that links Asia and Europe in Istanbul. On our return, we passed a similar sign welcoming us to Europe.

Welcome sign on the Asian side of the Bosporus

In 1999, while spending three months in Australia when Art was on sabbatical, we traveled to Alice Springs where we made a point to visit the marker for the Tropic of Capricorn.  Visiting the Tropic of Cancer is still on my bucket list.  We were relatively close last summer while vacationing in the Yucatan, but not close enough to make it a destination.

At the Tropic of Capricorn, near Alice Springs, Australia 1999

I still have many geographic points I would like to visit. Who knows, perhaps they will become subjects for The Intrepid Tourist someday.  As I begin this fourth year of the blog, I thank all of my friends and family who have contributed to The Intrepid Tourist and all of you who have been my faithful readers.
To another year of Happy Traveling!

MESA VERDE, COLORADO: Home of the Ancient Cliff Dwellers

Caroline and her brothers at Spruce Tree House, Mesa Verde, 1958

When I was fourteen years old, my family went on an extended summer camping trip from our home in Minnesota to southern California.  One of the highlights along the way was a visit to Mesa Verde National Park in southwestern Colorado.  At that time, the campground was on top of the mesa, just a stone’s throw away from the visitor center and the ruins of Spruce Tree House.  My brothers and I spent hours climbing the ladders and exploring the ruins.  Inside the visitor center I loved peering at the dioramas with their tiny houses and people, and reading about the pottery, tools, and other items in the exhibit cases, trying to imagine what life was like when the Ancestral Puebloans had inhabited these mesas and canyons.  In the evening, our family cooked our meal and ate it around the campfire, much as the Ancestral Puebloans must have done more than a thousand years ago.

Native Americans known as the Ancestral Puebloans [formerly called the Anasazi] lived at Mesa Verde between A.D. 550 and 1300. They left at a time when there was a long drought and never returned.  Their descendants are among the Native American people who live in the southwest today.

Diorama of Spruce Tree House, which was inhabited 1100 - 1300 A.D.  The dioramas at Mesa Verde were constructed in the 1930's by the Civilian Conservation Corps.

When I returned to Mesa Verde in 1990 with Richard Hewett to do the research and photography for our book, The Ancient Cliff Dwellers of Mesa Verde, I found the park just as fascinating as I had as a child.  The campground had been converted to a picnic area and as we ate our lunches there it brought back memories of my childhood visit.  Since then, many more ancient sites within the park had been discovered and excavated, and new research was offering new evidence to explain why the Ancestral Puebloans had abandoned their cliffside dwellings so suddenly.

One of my favorite parts of the park was a small garden plot near the visitor center where the park rangers were growing corn, squash, and beans, just as the Ancestral Puebloans had in prehistoric times.  I have always been fond of bean soup and I was delighted to discover in one of the gift shops a package of red beans with a recipe on the back for Anasazi bean soup.  The recipe is below.  Although I doubt that the Ancestral Puebloans used ham hocks or lemon in their recipes, I can imagine that they might have put a chunk of deer meat and locally gathered flavorings into their beans as they cooked them over the fire.  In any case, as you eat this delicious soup, you can imagine that you are high on a Colorado mesa, gazing across the plain below.

Anasazi Bean Soup

1 package of red, pinto type, beans
2 quarts of water
1-2 ham hocks
Salt and pepper to taste
1 16 ounce can of tomatoes
1 large onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1-1 ½ teaspoons chili powder
Juice of ½ lemon

Soak beans overnight.  Drain beans.  Add water, ham, salt and pepper.  Cook until beans are tender.  Add tomatoes, onion, garlic and chili powder and cook another half hour.  Add lemon juice before serving.  Enjoy!

The high elevation of Mesa Verde, which is about seven thousand feet above sea level, makes it slightly cooler in summer and wetter than the plain below.  Both the climate and rich soil made it a good place to grow crops.  Beans were added to the Anasazi diet during the period about A.D. 550-750, and were an important source of protein.  Anasazi beans were very much like today’s pinto beans.  The Anasazi ate them fresh and also dried them to be used later. [Page 25, The Ancient Cliff Dwellers of Mesa Verde by Caroline Arnold (Clarion Books, 1992)] Note: the term Ancestral Puebloan replaced Anasazi after my book was published.

Visit Mesa Verde: The National Park Service website for Mesa Verde has everything you need to know to plan a visit to the park including directions, maps, things to do, and links to information about camping and lodging.  There are also pages with downloadable activities for kids and for teachers.