Pika Picture: With Gary

If you know Pika, you know Gary the Rat. Her best friend, her worst enemy. This is Pika with Gary number ten (approximately). Thanks, Ikea for your stuffed rat toy idea (meant for human children).

South Dakota and a bit of Wyoming: A Plains Song

Right now, I'm reading a memoir called Dakota by Kathleen Norris. She moved from NYC to her family's quiet, hardscrabble back road roots of Dakota. I am fascinated and taken by American prairieland. Prairie is a French derivative word for meadow; I learned that tidbit in South Dakota this time around. Kathleen Norris describes how, in Dakota, the endless grasslands waving in the winds on their rolling hills and the unstable, stormy [yet often dry] climate, all remind her of the sea. I get that. I love the sea. Therefore...

Indeed, an ocean used to exist there. Just as an ocean surrounds little Easter Island. I was struck with complete wonder by how much the knobby, grassy hills of Easter Island looked like the knobby, grassy hills of central South Dakota. I have not seen such distinct, stumpy little hillocks rambling away like that at any other landscape I've visited, save for these two places, so far apart from each other. How strange.

We spent most of our Dakota time in the Blackhills area. How very patriotic on that Independence weekend, no?

I've been aching to see the Badlands again since my first trip as a young teenager. They were still magical:



























































Interloping on a family of antelopes:
















Other sights included Beautiful Crazy Horse:















Roadside beggar at Custer State Park:




















Steppes of the Black Hills:









































STILL a favorite of mine and STILL a hard act to follow, this guy:

Very personal with adorable prairie dogs:

I love Wyoming's endless butte country and its authentic Western vibe:

Utah: Salt Lake City and environs

"Now if you find yourself falling apart

I'm sure

I could stand

on

the Great Salt Lake"
- Band of Horses

Many years ago, I had a layover on the way to Seattle that happened to be my favorite layover that ever was. I landed in Salt Lake City. It was a beautiful clear day, and as we flew over the Great Salt Lake and landed amidst the mountains, I thought to myself: a) whoa, this is totally incredibly gorgeous, and b) I must (and will) get here again someday soon.

Often, people seem to me to be put off by SLC because of the whole Mormon element. Why? In Chile, they had a phrase they'd say to the children at the school at which I volutnteered when the children said something snotty: fea actitud (translated: ugly attitude). To me, the Mormon element is an added cultural anthropological bonus. A uniqueness. Don't worry; the people of LDS faith in SLC aren't going to drag you into the temple and convert you, for goodness sake. They've got regular lives and jobs, of course, and I had nothing but super friendly encounters with people from this beautiful, super clean and tidy town.

It's true that the whole Mormon culture component is very present and should not be ignored, because as I stated earlier, it's quite interesting (and beautiful and grandiose):

The temple:

The immaculate John Smith building, close to Temple Square:

The gardens near the temple were oh, so incredible. Seriously. Probably the most, well-tended, colorful gardens I've even seen. Something creepy and utopian about this statue, though:
















Besides the whole LDS element of SLC, there's also a non-Mormon, kind of counter movement there. There's a huge biking culture, and in turn, a sizable, gritty bike messenger crowd. The coffee-loving, beer-brewing, left-leaning, literature-liking, good music-listening crowd. Below, pictures of markers denoting where one can park and lock up his or her bike. They would spin in the wind and were almost a little too hypnotizing for me (I looked a little too in awe watching them, probably).








































The city:

Even the Tyvek was pretty in SLC:













Several miles outside of town is the amazing Antelope Island State Park, a place with its very own ecosystem and killer vistas. If you're visiting SLC, you should not miss it. There are beaches on the island, and I was able to swim and float in the super salty, super buoyant Great Salt Lake.
Salty shoreline:















We took a steep 5-mile round-trip hike to a mountain summit. It was worth it for the [almost] 360-degree views of the island. It was also worth it for the wildlife. A lizard:



















We saw antelope gracefully galavanting down the mountain while we climbed:















Buffalo do roam the island:





























Tomorrow: Wyoming and S. Dakota

Utah: natural, National beauty

"The arches here were built so they don't fall/The catedrals, to make you feel small."
--Blind Pilot

Thus begins a new journey. A new journey through miscellany. I've landed. Back in the US and A. This blog will be about all the little things I feel like writing about and snapping pictures of. Bear with me, if you want.

My Matt is still doing his thing abroad, but he will be done soon. Not soon enough, but soon nonetheless.

So, my dad and I went on a little National and State Parks quest out West this past week. It was really nice. We soaked up lots of beautiful. I thought I'd share with you bits, pieces, and falling rock of what we saw, because well, it was pretty pretty. I'm going to go backwards, because the most recent is the most salient.

Moab is an adorable little hippie town in southeast Utah. It's what Austin, Texas (my homebase) wants to be--but is too big and complicated to be now. Moab is hugged by two phenomenal National Parks. Let's explore, shall we?

Canyonlands Nat'l Park is Utah's biggest national park. Big, it was. To give an idea, we entered the park at two different entrances in the two days we visited. Those two entrances were at least 70-miles apart We just scratched the surface of its grandeur. I could (and will, if anyone's game!) spend a lot more time hiking its hundreds of trails.

I wish it would be easier to elucidate regarding our tiny size compared to these million-years-old natural structures.















They were massive:





























Petroglyphs:
















































The Colorado River worming its way through the canyons at Dead Horse Point State Park (on the outskirts of Canyonlands):















We hit Arches Nat'l Park, the smaller and more popular of the two, during our last couple hours in Utah. We were tired and warm at this point. It's desert dry and hot in July. Even so, the natural beauty was truly stunning.

Below, in the distance is "Delicate Arch." This one is the park's most famous formation. It's on the Utah license plate:
















This formation is called "Park Avenue:"















Here's "Balancing Rock." Also, here's my dad flexing his world-famous Hebl Biceps.




















The park is named for its litany of naturally formed arches. I dare you to play Where's Waldo and find the tiny human beings in these pictures so that you can better understand the scale of these structures:













































This formation is called "Fiery Furnace." Fiery Furnaces happen to be a good band that are pleasing to my ears. Is this where they got their name? I hope so; I'd probably like them even more if that was the case.















Tomorrow, the journey goes up to Salt Lake City, if you're game.