Happy New Year - 2024

 

May this New Year that is upon us find you planning wonderful and exciting escapes to places you have never been before. This round ball of a planet has so much to offer and you have so much to offer it in return.

Happy New Year from the Mob Museum in Las Vegas, Nevada

                                 Get out and and travel in 2024!!!!

                            Traveling freely along the Amazon River in Peru - Make it yours

Robert and Francis Fullerton Museum

 

The world of ancient Egypt never really interested me while growing up. I was more interested in American history, since that was where I lived and it was a lot cheaper to travel to Topeka, Kansas than to Cairo, Egypt.

“That’ll be forty bucks for the Greyhound,” a ticket person would state. “Or five gazillion dollars to fly across the world to a land of the never-ending desert.”

I already lived in a desert, so I chose the bus to Topeka.

It was not until I viewed a documentary about Egypt that my attention turned around in considering the ancient Egyptians as some of the most advanced folks that have ever populated this earth.

The year I watched the documentary is not important, plus it ages me, but I will never forget the impact it had on me from that point on.

Professor Steven Martin stood on a stage and sang a song about the ancient Pharaoh Tutankhamun – the boy king. Tutankhamun died at the age of 18 years old and his tomb in the Valley of the Kings went undiscovered for over 3,000 years. The treasure-laden tomb was located in 1922 by Howard Carter, an esteemed and wily archaeologist. 

One poignant moment in Professor Martin’s televised lecture was when he sang, ‘How’d you get so funky – did you do the monkey?’

That had a major impact on me with regard to ancient Egypt.

“There’s an Egyptian exhibit at the Robert and Francis Fullerton Art Museum at Cal State, do you want to go?” I asked Laureen.

This Cal State was the California State University of San Bernardino – in case anyone was confused since there are 23 such campuses spread up and down the state of California.

“What sort of exhibit?”

“I guess they have a bunch of stuff dating back a longtime ago in Egypt,” I replied. “A lot about the Egyptian afterlife.”

“You’re not going to dance, are you?”

I thought of Professor Martin, and hoped he would not be disappointed. “No.”

The ancient Egyptians, from my research put a lot of thought into what happened when they died.

Laureen Beyer studying a cartouche

The ‘afterlife’ was really a part of their ‘present life’ since so much thought was put into when they would pass from this realm and into the next.

According to something I read in some Australian archeology magazine: ‘The ancient Egyptians believed that when they died, their spiritual body would continue to exist in an afterlife very similar to their living world. However, entry into this afterlife was not guaranteed. The dead had to negotiate a dangerous underworld journey and face the final judgment before they were granted access.’

That sounded rather ominous to me.

“Yeah, it’s just like your current life, but when you die you gotta travel though all kinds of nasty things with big teeth trying to eat you or getting squirted with a green Jell-O like substance.”

The British Museum had an exhibit referred to as, ‘Ancient Egypt: Secrets of the Afterlife’.

Which really is not much of a secret since it stated that ‘the exhibit would cover everything from the process of mummification and ancient canopic jars used to store the different organs of the body, to mummy masks created only for the wealthiest, which helped a person’s soul find their way back to their body in the afterlife.’

In all transparency, Laureen and I have visited the British Museum, the Louvre, the Museo Egizio, and other places that house ancient Egyptian artifacts. It was all very interesting, but my main point in visiting these museums was to have my photograph taken next to an embalmed Egyptian, so I could ask, “Are you, my mummy?”

For the sci-fi nerds like my wife, that reference was from an episode of ‘Doctor Who.’

The Robert and Francis Fullerton Art Museum is located in the northeast section of the University of California, San Bernardino. A short walk from the parking lot to the west, and if you get there at the right time and correct day, you won’t have to pay for parking.

There is nothing special to the building, a large windowed cement block structure but what it lacks on the exterior is made up for in the interior.

This whole Art Museum is a treasure trove of not only the ancient Egyptian thingies we went to look at but there are rooms full of modern art work, some from the very students who attend the university currently.

There were paintings of this and that; a couple of metal horns facing each other and giggling, a pair of sunglasses on a red background, a blank canvass with a red a tie, a green light bulb attached to a board, a guy with no head and so much more. 

It was enthralling and quite the experience.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Art,” Laureen replied.

And I thought Picasso was hard to understand.

The Egyptian exhibit came into view, and what a view.

Glass case after glass case holding objects that were lost for eons, and here they were now for everyone to see.

Well, for everyone to see if that meant the Inland Empire.

Getting a person ready for burial in ancient Egypt was not for the timid. Usually, the whole mummification process took 70 days to complete and was reserved for the rich. After the person died, they would receive all kinds of attention, like having their innards taken out and stored in ‘canopic’ jars, which would be placed near their sarcophagus.

I did learn something that was really cool. A video at the museum explained which parts of the innards were reserved for the canopic jars after death.

It was not a hit and miss slitting and sliding out of organs and tossing here and there. Nope, there was a method to this measure.

The video referred to it as ‘SILL’, Spleen, Intestines, Lung, Liver. These were the organs the ancient Egyptians carefully removed from the deceased and placed gently into the ceramic canopic jars. 

Brains were tossed to the wayside, since the early Egyptian doctors had no idea what the brain was utilized for.

Sounds like some of our politicians, but I digress.

The heart, it was left in the body since the Egyptians believed this was where wisdom and love emanated from.

‘My heart belongs to you, but please leave it within me since without it I will be an unfeeling doddering and drooling old ghost in the afterlife.’

That was supposedly carved into a cartouche on a pharaoh’s cartouche around 1,300 BC.

We wandered the rooms full of ancient treasures.

There were cartouches, sarcophagus lids, jars full of ancient food items, burial items from small buttons to sew on the outer clothing of the deceased to large beautifully hammered metal chest plates.

Items to adorn a tomb or mummy

Being in this room, with pieces found in ancient tombs was really a sobering experience for both Laureen and me. 

Here were items that had once adorned folks that had died eons ago, and now were we walking from glass case to glass case in wonder at the unbelievable craftsmanship that took place in creating these pieces. 

Items found in various burial sites

A pair of 3,000-year-old playing dice made of wood stared up at us. It was as if a dealer in Las Vegas could use those very dice today, since the numbers were so distinct. What appeared to be a pawn from a modern chess piece sat beside them. I could imagine losing to Laureen at that moment utilizing that piece in my demise.

Rolling the dice

One item I found fascinating was a severed hand of a mummy. I am sure the mummy, if it were around and could speak, would counter my fascination.

“That’s my hand, and you have no business having it in a museum without the rest of me. All I want is my hand to make a handstand, and wouldn’t that be grand?”

Even the rings that bejeweled the severed hand are on display, on the hand itself.

Mummified hand with rings

Laureen bypassed that exhibit.

But one she did not bypass was the one of ancient Egyptian jewelry. Two glass cases revealing marvelous examples of delicately stringed jewelry for the neck and the wrists – along with a few rings.

Some nice jewlery

“You know, Mother’s Day is coming soon,” she said.

There was a large cartouche, hope I have that right, showing a parade of Kings walking into the afterlife. Each pharaoh looked pretty happy, or pretended to be, walking behind each other into the uncertainty of the life after death.

John Beyer pondering the line of Pharaohs

I pondered that a moment or two. 

The entire museum is worth a visit if a person is into ancient Egyptian artifacts. But, who is not with such hits as Indiana Jones, the Mummy, or John’s Hesitancy for Marching into the Afterlife.

This is a place to explore – and don’t forget to dress the part, it will do the soul a lot of good.

 

The Huntington Library

 I glanced over at Laureen, who was sipping coffee on our front porch.

“You know,” I started. “I’d like to head down the hill today and walk through some gardens.”

“We have plenty of land here for you to walk through and there are some pretty nasty sized weeds calling your name.”

Listening very attentively for a few seconds, I did not hear one weed beckoning me.

“How about a walk-about at the Huntington Library in San Marino?”

The Huntington Research Center

In 1862, the U.S. Congress chartered the Central Pacific Railroad to build a railway eastward from Sacramento as part of the western extension of the Transcontinental Railroad.

Many in Congress, it is rumored, hmphed and hmphed while smoking big cigars and tipping their top hats to each other over this railroad charter.

“We do such wonderful things for our subjects,” one congressman may have said.

“I believe you meant to say, our constituents,” another congressman may have replied.

The first congressman nodded. “Why certainly that’s what I meant.”

Theodore Judah, an American civil engineer, had an idea to build the Central Pacific Railroad but needed financial support for such a huge project.

“Fat cats are needed for this railroad,” Judah may have pondered.

Soon, he had four wealthy individuals who wanted to get more wealthy by constructing a railroad which would be part of the tracks linking east to west.

Leland Stanford, Mark Hopkins, Charles Crocker, and Collins Potter Huntington ponied up the finances for Judah’s dream.

When the Central Pacific Railroad finally met up with the Union Pacific Railroad at Promontory Summit in Utah, the ‘Big 4’ realized they had done something truly special for the country – and were going to make a fortune.

Instead of taking weeks, or even months, to bring goods from the east to the west, it would now be only a matter of days to supply the needs of pioneers and growing towns along the route.

Shop owners were said to have danced in the streets with joy.

“By golly, that sarsaparilla will be here in no time. My customers will be bellied-up to the bar for that lip-smacking delicacy.”

But this article is not about the railroads, it is about Collis P. Huntington’s nephew, Henry E. Huntington who left a beautiful legacy in the town of San Marino, just southeast of Pasadena.

As a boy, Henry grew up hearing about his rich uncle and what he had accomplished in the railroad world, as well as other successful monetary ventures.

As it turned out, Henry went to work for Collis as an executive at the Southern Pacific, which had been the Central Pacific earlier. When Collis passed away in 1900, Henry assumed the leadership role with the Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Company in Virginia as well as other businesses which were under Collis’s control.

To say the least, Henry was becoming wealthy.

Henry E. Huntington

In 1910, Henry divorced his first wife, Mary Alice Prentice Huntington, and in 1913 married his uncle’s widow, Arabella.

No judgement here, but it did shock the high society in San Francisco at the time.

“OMG, can you believe they got married?” one socialite asked another socialite.

“When I heard, it was simply LOL to me.”

The weather was nearly perfect for us to stroll the 207 acres which comprise the Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.

Over 130 of those acres are taken up the Botanical Gardens. That is a lot of walking in and out of the various gardens at the Huntington.

Laureen Beyer strolling one of the gardens

There’s the Garden of Flowing Fragrance, the Chinese Garden, the Desert Garden, the Japanese Garden, the Rose Garden, the Children’s Garden, the Australian Garden, and some others I forgot to write down.

There are nearly 27,000 different types of plants on the grounds which include 16,000 various species. Must be considerable work for the staff of full-time gardeners to keep track of such numbers.

Lots of various trees at the Huntington

“I think it was sixteen hundred and fifteen, but I suddenly had a coughing spell and lost track,” one gardener told another.

“Well, let’s start again, shall we? You know how the head gardener can be.”

It was relatively early in the morning when we arrived, which allowed Laureen and I to shoot through the gates and onto the grounds rather quickly.

Heading to the 16,000 square foot Rose Hills Foundation Conservatory for Botanical Science proved to us that a greenhouse that large may have its own weather system brewing.

The huge steel and glass building is home to three different habitats – a lowland tropical rain forest, a cloud forest, and a carnivorous bog.

It also sports a humidity that must be nearly 3,000 percent.

I was dripping sweat within seconds of entering the structure – Laureen was glistening.

“Holy Moly,” I said. “My eyeballs are fogged over.”

It was amazing what had been created for guests to experience. Huge towering plants dripping water onto other plants and tourists. A large pond was surrounded by portions of the rain forest. There were plaques everywhere describing this plant or that plant for the curious botanists.

“There is the Corpse Flower,” Laureen observed. “Want to take a closer look?”

“A closer look? Sure, it’s not a Venus Flytrap?”

I was more interested in studying the Amorphophallus titanium, or Stinky Plant in laymen’s terms. Research states that when this plant blooms it can clear a room out quicker than a pug with digestive issues.

I’m immature like that. 

After spending nearly an hour looking at this plant or that plant, we exited into the late morning sun where a gentle breeze greeted us.

“That is refreshing,” Laureen said.

“Yeah, I think I dropped twenty pounds of water weight in there.”

As an entrepreneur, Henry invested in this and in that and along the way purchased great tracts of land. He purchased 500 acres in what was called the San Marino Ranch, where the library is now located, as well as other large parcels in Pasadena and Los Angeles.

Being the creator of the Pacific Electric Railway Company – the Red Car. Henry was able to amass more wealth by offering a 24/7 mode of transportation in and around the ever-growing city of Los Angeles. By 1910, his electric trolley system spanned over 1,300 miles with 20 streetcar lines and 1,250 trolleys.

Henry was responsible, along with other early developers, of creating the Southern California that we now recognize.

Huntington Beach, Huntington Park, Huntington Lake, Huntington Hospital, Henry E. Huntington Middle School, and Huntington Drive are just some of the places named after this man who had moved from Oneonta, New York to make California his permanent home.

Speaking of homes, the original home of the Huntington’s, located on the grounds happens to be more of a humongous mansion, now the art gallery. 

The Gilded-Age abode was designed by Myron Hunt, along with the adjacent library built in 1919, also by Hunt. Other buildings were added during the following years including a tea house, a bowling building, billiard building, art gallery, a mausoleum, and other historical structures.

Just one of many beautiful buildings at the Huntington

And I thought the few sheds on my property were impressive.

An interesting fact, the mausoleum located on the grounds was designed by John Russell Pope, who also designed the Jefferson Memorial in Washington D.C.

Arabella was quite the art lover and between she and her husband garnered an extremely large collection of masterpieces from around the world during their marriage.

John R Beyer standing beside one piece of art work

A statement concerning Huntington stated the following, ‘far and away the greatest group of 18th century British portraits ever assembled by any one man.’

It was estimated during his lifetime the collection of art was worth 50 million dollars. Today it is valued at over 400 million.

Prior to Henry E. Huntington death in 1927 – Arabella had passed away three years earlier, a foundation had been formed and the acreage, including all the buildings and gardens were opened to the public in 1928.

Both, Henry, and Arabella wanted to give back to the community which had welcomed them with open arms. They are interred on the Huntington grounds.

We took our time wandering through the Huntington Art Gallery where wide marbled hallways and carpeted stairways greet the visitor leading them to room after room with walls hung with some of the most beautiful paintings in the world.

Thomas Gainsborough’s Blue Boy, Rogier van der Weyden’s Madonna and Child, Thomas Lawrence’s Pinkie, Mary Cassatt’s Breakfast in Bed, Andy Warhol’s Small Campbell’s Soup Can, and so many more to please the eye.

Gainsborough's Blue Boy dressed in blue

There were sculptures, decorative art pieces, prints, furniture from around the world, huge tapestries depicting hunting or battle scenes, and so much more to take in.

Every object was impressive. 

The day sped by quickly and soon early afternoon was upon us. It felt as though we had put many miles on our tired legs traipsing through the gardens and the art collections.

“I’m exhausted,” I said as we left the complex.

Laureen nodded. “In a good way?”

I smiled, “Yes.” 

For more information: https://www.huntington.org/

Easter Eggs

Easter is one of the most recognized Holy Days or Holidays throughout the world - be that if a person is religious or not. And with Easter comes the idea of hiding colored eggs for little children to search for before screaming in delight at the discovery of one of those elusive little treasures.

Hiding eggs or just sort of CREEPY?

An Easter egg is something to marvel about.when looked closely at with an artists eye. The decorative talent, the colors of paints but the question why would someone spend so much time illuminating an egg is always there.  It's that very thing - the why, the how, the when questions which are constantly driving a researcher.

Questions abound within the minds of explorers and thus J and L did a little of their own research on this subject.

Colored ostrich eggs of at least 60,000 years have been found in Africa. For what purpose is still being debated.

Talent from 60,000 years ago - okay recently but . . . 

Early Mesopotamia and Egyptian people looked upon eggs as being associated with birth and death. Five thousand years ago the Sumerians and Egyptians placed golden eggs within tombs as a reminder of the rebirth after death.

Okay - not an egg but a nice watch - it is gold though

Sumerian death golden egg - not a Rolex but cool anyway 

The idea for Christians to use painted or colored eggs during Easter came from a story - some say a myth at the time of the death of Jesus Christ. As Jesus was dying on the cross Mary, his mother supposedly brought a basket of eggs and laid them at the foot of the cross where her son was crucified. Drops of his blood spilled down staining the eggs red. The early Christians celebrated coloring eggs red after that as a memory of his sacrifice for humankind.

Red - the color of blood

Around 1610, and some researchers believe earlier, the Christian Church officially recognized the painted eggs as the sign of resurrection of Jesus Christ. From there the eggs became more and more decorated through the ages.

During Lent (the forty days prior to the resurrection of Jesus) many people fast as a show of penance. The idea is simple - if Jesus gave his life for all of us surely I can give up something meaningful to show my respect. But the forty days of giving up something can weigh on a person and many can not make it resurrection Sunday.

The term Mardi Gras actually refers to the last day before giving up rich and fatty foods. And what does one usually have related to rich and fatty foods (like cakes, sweets and every desert our doctors complain about us eating) - eggs. Chickens unfortunately do not fast from producing eggs. At the end of the forty days there are a lot of eggs laying around and should not be wasted.

I  like  Fat Tuesday - not saying I'm fat but you gotta love the beads

So, there is a great idea - color them, hide them, hunt them, and eat them. No sense in wasting eggs but they do have to be eaten quickly!

But there are still current traditions.

Even today in the country of Romania the practice of keeping gaily painted eggs within a household still stands. They, the eggs, will deter evil spirits from invading the abode and provide assurance of good luck.

We hate eggs - you're safe . . .  unless you have some good Salsa!

In the town of Haux in France on Easter Monday a huge omelet is served in the town square which feeds up to 1,000 people. Over forty-five hundred eggs are used - that's a lot of eggs!

They want hash browns too - you've gotta be kidding!

And of course in the good old U.S.A. there is the Easter egg roll on the south lawn of the White House. Rolling hard boiled eggs with a wooden spoon doesn't sound like fun but it is for the folks, mainly little ones, who partake in this annual tradition.

Drop the spoon and just run!!! There's a big bunny after you!

So the Easter Egg has been around a very long time in many traditions but the point is that it is an important aspect of a day respected world wide.

No matter the reason you and your family decorate the little creation from a chicken just enjoy the thought behind it - no matter what that thought would be.

Happy Easter from J and L.

St. Patrick's Day

 Laureen waiting for St. Patty's Day on the Isle of the Green

Holidays are generally times for fun and frivolity - what a great word -  (noun) the trait of being frivolous; not serious or sensible.

Definitely frivolity - or just bad dancing

Not sure that is what we are going to discuss here about Saint Patrick's Day being a frivolous day to celebrate, but through the centuries it has turned to a day of green beer and shenanigans  - oh, that's another good one - (noun) mischief; prankishness.

Shenanigans - no doubt

No, this wonderfully festive holiday is to honor a saint of the Catholic Church.  A young lad, this is how many of these stories start, born in Britain during the Roman occupation of the fifth century who was kidnapped and brought to Ireland at the age of 16.

The lad, Maewyn Succat, who came from a successful family - his father was actually a Roman- British army officer - was kidnapped from Britain and transported to Ireland as a slave by the Picts.

The Picts may have been early Celts who wandered for a long while fighting various factions in the British Kingdoms but never were able to stage a stronghold for their tattooed warriors and were always on the march looking for gentler lands. It is believed they originated from Scotland.

A Pict warrior - scary!

With the presence of the Romans and later the Vikings, these homelands never really became a reality for the Picts who basically just wandered about from here to there - mainly there.

But we digress.

This is about Maewyn Succat who later became Patrick when he became a priest in the Catholic Church. After being kidnapped, he served as a shepherd for the one who enslaved him for six years. But then a miraculous thing happened, it usually does when one is destined to become a saint - can't have a regular thing happen since that wouldn't spark much of an interest from anyone actually. God appeared to Maewyn in either a voice or a dream - depends on the research - telling him that if he made his way to the coast of Ireland, a boat would take him to freedom. It should be noted that he had become closer to God as he tended the sheep and that is the reason for the visit from God.

After the vision, Patrick hot-footed it to the coast from County Mayo (where it is believed he had been held) and yes, a boat was waiting and off he sailed to freedom back to England and then he traveled on to France. He studied his faith under the guidance of St. Germain who was the bishop of Auxerre. After completing twelve years of training, Patrick - as was now called after accepting his vocation - knew that Ireland was where he was supposed to be to spread the word of his church. The pagans who had imprisoned him needed to hear the word of God and no matter the danger - an escaped slave risked bring killed on sight - Patrick headed back into hostile territory.

He had a mission to return to Ireland

One problem with the above was there were a lot of Catholics already residing in Ireland when Patrick returned but there were also more non-Christians, who were his main focus. Knowing the Irish as well as he did, Patrick realized the way to the hearts of these people wasn't discounting the way they worshiped but to incorporate traditions they already had. One example was the bonfire the locals used on Easter to honor the pagan gods with fire. Patrick used this to show a sun superimposed upon a cross thus giving the Irish their own special cross called the Celtic cross.

Celtic Cross as St. Patrick envisioned it

Patrick remained in Ireland for twenty years converting and obtaining fellow missionaries to follow in his footsteps. He gave gifts to the people, including nobility, but never accepted one in return. His whole purpose was spreading the word of God to the Irish and establishing dozens of monasteries within the boundaries of the island of Ireland.

On March 17, 461, in Saul, Downpatrick, Ireland, Patrick died, and thus the reason for the celebration of his life every March 17th.

He had written a book in his later years as an autobiography, explaining his life and the path he had chosen to travel. It is entitled Confessio. The title makes perfectly good sense considering he was a Catholic priest and the whole confession thing.

So, with the more secular holiday St. Patrick's Day has become - it was once only celebrated by Catholics - with shamrocks, leprechauns, Celtic fairies and the like it should be remembered that a real man with a real mission in life lived and died.

A Guinness - St. Patty would be proud

He had a dream from God to return to a place that had kept him a prisoner for the sole purpose of saving their souls. Yes, a play on words.

Anyway - Happy St. Patrick's Day from J and L!

After celebrating St. Patty's Day - a nap is needed sometimes

Grand Canyon Caverns

 

“You know where I’d like to explore?” There were so many possibilities. “Mars.”

I could actually hear Laureen’s eyes roll. “Really, Mars?”

“Venus?”

Turns out, the correct answer, for five hundred Alex, was the Grand Canyon Caverns.

“You tend to be a bit claustrophobic.”

“True,” Laureen replied.

“You know, the caverns are dank, dark, dangerous, and are about thirty thousand feet below the surface of the Earth.”

Laureen nodded. “I need to face my fears.”

“Then, by all means, let’s face your fears together,” I stated. Facing fears together – it is a good thing for a married couple to do.

The Grand Canyon Caverns are some of the largest dry caverns in the United States.

That actually did not sound like fun to me. I have been to some dry counties within this wonderful country of ours, but nowhere to wet ones whistle with an adult libation.

“I’d like a cold draft with that pizza.”

“Oh, this is a dry county,” the waitress would reply. “You’ll have to eat your pizza with a glass of finely silted sand.”

Dry caverns, such as Grand Canyon Caverns, constitute only three percent of all the world’s caverns. Most caverns contain water, which creates those marvelous stalagmites and stalactites -- those are the pointy thingies that either hang from the ceiling, or the reach up from the floor of the cavern.

Scientifically speaking, a stalagmite is a rock formation that rises from the floor of a cave due to the accumulation of material on the floor from ceiling drippings. They are typically composed of calcium, but may consist of lava, mud, peat, pitch, sand and sinter.

No idea what sinter is, but it sounds religious, and not in a good way

I suppose, a stalactite is the opposite of a stalagmite.

A trip was planned; we were packed, gassed up, with reservations confirmed. We were on our way to the Grand Canyon Caverns, so Laureen could face her fear. I would be there to watch.

Traveling Route 66 is a special moment – or a lot of moments if you are driving for seven or eight hours in a day. But, it is always worth the time: seeing things that speed along the typical routes such as Interstate 40, Interstate 10, or fill in the blank of Interstate X, that drivers never get a chance to experience.

On our outing, we passed through the towns of Hualapai (not to be confused with the next town), Walapai, Antares (home of the Giganticus Headicus), Hackberry, Valentine, Truxton, and Peach Springs.

The Grand Canyon Caverns are thirteen miles east of Peach Springs, a small town that has a lot to offer the thousands of people visiting each year.

A person could spend time at the Hualapia Ranch, and learn how to quick draw and other cool cowboy kinds of stuff. And then in the evenings, listen to cowboy stories and songs around a warm and bright campfire, while stuffing your gullet with s’mores.

That sounded like fun – but I’m not much of an artist, and so quick drawing something did not make sense to me.

The area is also near the Glass Canyon Skywalk, the glass-bottomed bridge that is suspended over four thousand feet above the Grand Canyon.

Beautiful, but no thanks

That also sounded like fun, if someone wants to walk out into thin air on a piece of glass while peering down between their feet at a nearly three-quarters of a mile drop to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

Don’t count me in on that adventure, since as hard as I might, I don’t believe my arms would act like the wings of a bird if that glass floor shattered. I didn’t feel like facing that particular fear today.

All the small towns along the route have their own mystique and unique qualities. And, they all deserve a respite to explore, but we were on a mission.

There were caverns awaiting, and a phobia to conquer.

While driving, I was keeping my eyes on the road, but also looking right and left for any signs of wildlife. This was beautiful country. Thousands upon thousands of acres of grasslands hugging Route 66. It was magical – if one enjoys the solitude of empty roads and beautiful scenery.

There were highway signs warning drivers to watch for deer, elk, cattle, and Sasquatches.

Laureen was busy reading a touristy sort of magazine.

“The Grand Canyon Caverns are only two hundred and thirty feet below the surface. You told me thirty thousand.”

“Must have been a misprint,” I stated. Looking to the left, I could have sworn something about ten feet tall and very hairy had just disappeared behind a large boulder.  I think it was also wearing a bowler hat. But I didn’t want to interrupt Laureen, so I kept quiet.

“This article also says the caverns are dry, with wide well-lit pathways throughout. You said they were dank, dark, and dangerous.”

“I’ll never believe a thing that magazine publishes again.”

Turns out, about three-hundred and forty-five million years ago, the southwest was covered by oceans. This was during the Mississippian Period, and there were a lot of fishes and other ocean critters swimming around here and there. When the waters dried up over the eons, those little skeletons of the fishes and other critters settled to the bottom of the oceans. Through millions of years the calcium in the bones mixed with the mud, creating a limestone bedrock.

Another bunch of time passed, and the bottom of those now empty oceans moved up to over five thousand feet above sea level.

Then, thirty-five million years ago, rainfall flowed into that limestone creating caverns down below, the same rainfall which carved out the Grand Canyon itself.

I have no idea why – geology is complicated.

Since the tours of the caverns are so popular, reservations are a must, along with a guide.

“Without a tour guide, you could get lost down there forever,” the young woman at the reception desk informed us.

“Then a guide is fine with us,” I replied.

Our guide, Dino, was a fount of knowledge when it came to the history of the caverns, from the past to the present. He also had a sense of humor, which I would label – corny. Funny, but corny.

“What do call being in a cave disaster? Caught between a rock and a hard place.”

Turns out, the caverns had gone unnoticed until 1927, when a local miner, Walter Peck, was riding his horse across the area and nearly fell into a large hole in the ground. After exploring this unsuspected cavity in the earth, Peck learned there were labyrinths of caves below the surface. And, being a miner, he thought there may be untold riches within those cavernous tunnels.

Do not get lost in these caverns

Unfortunately, for Peck, there was no gold or silver to be found, but being the entrepreneur he was, he came up with another money making venture. For twenty-five cents, tourists would be lowered into the darkness of the caves to explore for themselves. They were lowered over two hundred feet into the earth by sticking their feet into a rope harness.

This became known as Dope on a Rope.

Some of the things found while searching the caverns

This enterprise went on for decades, and then in 1962, a new entrance was created and the installation of an elevator reaching down two hundred feet was installed.

No more dopes on ropes.

As we followed Dino, he explained this rock formation and that rock formation. Very interesting, but then a sad moment with the discovery Peck had made of a Paramylodon Harlani back in the early days of his exploration of the caverns.

This giant sloth Peck had found, is believed to have fallen into the original hole in the ground around eleven thousand years ago and died there. The name given the huge mammal was Gertie. A model of her is along the winding path in the caverns. What a sad ending for poor Gertie.

Gertie

One huge cavern contains thousands upon thousands of provisions left there by the federal government during the Cold War.

Left over Cold War supplies in the caverns

“These caverns were designated a fall-out shelter,” Dino said. “They wanted supplies to be placed here, just in case. The only thing they forgot were lanterns. Gets dark down here with no lights.”

In fact, when the dozens of lights along the walkways are turned off, a person cannot see their hand in front of their face.

Also, within the caverns there is also a suite, which can be rented for the night – rather pricy but could be a wonderfully dark experience. Ozzy Osbourne spent the night there – a great place for a guy who likes bats.

Sleep where Ozzy slept with his dog, Rockhound

I looked over at Laureen. “Nope.”

You could also choose to have your lunch below the surface of the earth, in the Grotto. This restaurant is situated over two hundred feet below the surface, and serves spectular food with your choice of beverages, including the adult variety.

John and Laureen enjoying a beverage at the Grotto

We met fellow diners, Jake and Lisa, who had traveled from Phoenix just for the experience of the caverns.

“We had to eat here, and not just walk through the caverns,” Jake stated. “Not that they are not impressive enough alone.”

“And who gets a chance to eat lunch two hundred feet down in a natural cavern?” Lisa said.

“The four of us,” I replied.

The Grotto at the Grand Canyon Caverns

It may have been the wine from the Grotto, but Laureen had no claustrophobic complaints.

Are the caverns worth a trip? Most definitely yes, and a great way to experience new adventures and meet awesome people, like Dino, Jake, and Lisa.

For more information: https://gccaverns.com/

 

 

 

 

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John and his friend, Giganticus Headicus

I was having lunch with a friend of mine, Jim, when he asked if I had ever heard of the Giganticus Headicus.

While popping another French fry in my mouth, I shook my head. “Not sure about that, and not sure that is truly a thing.”

Jim often asks me about if I’ve seen this or that while I travel.

Jim travels a lot too. And his main thoroughfare is the ‘Mother Road’, or the ‘Will Rogers Highway,’ or the ‘Main Street of America’ – all three are also known as just ‘Route 66.’

He has seen many things during his years traveling Route 66. At last count, I believe Jim told me he has traveled Route 66, all the way from Santa Monica to Chicago, about three thousand times.

That makes Jim an expert on what is and what is not on Route 66.

I’ve never been to Chicago, not even once. And, changing planes at O’Hare International Airport on the northwest side of the city, does not count as having visited Chicago.

“So what is a Giganticus Headicus?”

“It is a great piece of art, created by Gregg Arnold,” Jim replied.

“Where’s it located?”

“At Antares Point,” he said. “You’ve heard of that, yes?”

I nodded. “Of course, that’s the bar where Luke Skywalker runs into Hans Solo and Chewie.”

Turns out, there is a small village named Antares about twenty miles north-east of Kingman, Arizona. It began, as many villages did, as a railroad siding for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad in 1883. The tracks at this point take a large curve in their design, as the rails headed south toward Kingman.

In 1910, after the National Old Trails Highway made its way through the area, the village was incorporated into what is now Antares. In 1926, Route 66 blazed along the railroad tracks, and the area became a rest stop for those visitors heading either north or south through this part of Arizona.

But, there is more to this little berg than just a fuel stop. There are over six thousand mining claims in the nearby hills, where copper, gold, lead, and silver were found in abundance. The village of Antares actually took its name from the star Antares, in the constellation ‘Scorpio.’ The word is Greek, and means ‘rival of Mars’, due to the reddish tint of the hillsides created by the copper found there.

Though, most of the mines are now closed, there are still over two hundred in operation in and around the Hualapai Valley, where Antares is located.

I found that research rather interesting, as I do most of my research – unless it has to do with how to take a dog stain off a living-room carpet.

But, it also turns out that there is a small stop along Route 66 called Antares Point. It is owned by Gregg Arnold and his spouse, Alie Reynolds-Arnold, and is a place that is truly worth a parking break.

A small A-framed building is the center of Antares Point, which offers visitors a chance for a snack, a drink, and a gaze at some awesome pieces of art work.

Both Gregg and Alie are world-renown artists, and have their studio, the Antares Art Studio, in Kingman.

Alie is known for her work in many art media forms, acrylic, oils, and whatever else great artists use to slap on a canvas to express their inner most creativity.

Tiki god at the point

Gregg, on the other hand, deals mainly in metal works. His metal sculptures appear all over the world, and the more detailed the better.

Some of his work is on display, and for sale, at Antares Point.

The camel of Route 66

 “Gregg is unveiling a new metal sculpture there in two weeks.”

“That sounds like an adventure to me,” I told Jim.

And, it was.

As I rounded the bend just south of the village of Antares, my eyes locked onto a huge green tiki-god like sculpture to the left of the A-frame visitor’s center for Antares Point.

I had to park quite a way down a dirt road from the business since there were about two hundred people milling around for the unveiling of Arnold’s latest creation. Actually, I’m not sure if they were milling, to be honest – I not even sure what that truly means.

“I was just milling around.”

“Well, I was milling better than you.”

There was a car show with some really sweet rides, and people were walking around gawking in admiration or jealousy. There was a band playing near some outdoor benches and awnings. And a man selling ice cream, singing Italian songs – no, those are the lyrics from a song by the band, Chicago.

Watch your speed through town

Anyway, there was quite a crowd and everyone was having a wonderful time while waiting for the blue tarps to be withdrawn from the newest art work created by Gregg Arnold.

Giganticus Headicus, is huge – really a big-headed cement head which looks like it is buried up to its chin in the ground. Standing at fourteen feet tall, it is impressive.

At that moment, the artist himself walked over to me. “What do you think?”

“It’s big and green,” I replied.

Arnold smiled. “Yes, it is, and the first time I used concrete in any of my artwork. The use of concrete was a new medium for me, but it worked out.”

Not being much of an art consumer, except for purchasing a couple of paintings depicting dogs’ playing cards, I asked what inspired him for this project.

“I thought of it while sleeping one night,” he replied. “I woke up and hurriedly jotted down the design. It was like an obsession with me. I’m sure being a writer, you probably get up in the middle of the night with something important on your mind.”

I nodded, but didn’t reply. The only time I get up in the middle of the night is to find the nearest restroom.

“For the entire month it took to complete it, it was all I could think of. I was totally obsessed and was physically and emotionally exhausted once I had completed it.”

Gregg is a very passionate artist. He created the large tiki-head project at the studio in Kingman, and then transported it to the site at his Antares Point location.

“I wanted something to draw a person’s eye, as they drive by on Route 66. This did the trick, and they stop, and I get to talk with them about the importance of art and also, the magnificence of this road.”

“What is going to be unveiled?” I asked.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” He smiled.

Taking my leave from Gregg, I walked into the visitor’s center and was really amazed at the pieces of art that lined countertops and shelves around the rooms. Small pieces, medium pieces, and some large metal artworks, that were incredible in all their detail. Wandering through the store, I saw art magazine after art magazine with stories concerning this highly creative artisan. 

Visitor center behind Arnold's artwork

Of course, there were also books, photographs, signs, and other Route 66 memorabilia for sale, as well as a snacks and drinks for the visitors.

As I exited the store after purchasing something, Gregg was standing on the front porch of the establishment. I asked him how he got his inspiration for such a varied array of art works.

“My art just comes to me. I don’t know how or why, but it does.”

Being as successful artist as Gregg is, his imagination must be on over-drive most of the time. 

While waiting for the unveiling, I busied myself chatting with car enthusiasts, Route 66 enthusiasts, art enthusiasts, and enthusiasts of enthusiasm.

“I’m really enthused by being here,” said one lady.

The time for the unveiling was suddenly upon us – time speeds by when everyone is enthused.

The new metal structure, which stands at sixteen feet tall, is located on the north-west section of the property as planned by Gregg, so anyone traveling Route 66 would be able to see it right away. As though, anyone driving by wouldn’t first see a giant green head tiki-god in the front yard of Antares Point.

That may slow a driver down a bit.

Gregg stepped up onto a concrete platform in front of the tarped covered stature, microphone in hand and spoke to the large crowd gathered all around.

The covered stature

He explained very eloquently why and how he created the art work.

“This metal stature is to be the guardian of Route 66,” he stated. “I wanted something very special and meaningful for anyone traveling this wonderful roadway. I also desired it to represent the strength of our wonderful nation, and to stand tall with all those who have served her and continue to serve her, no matter their occupations.”

At this moment, the tarps dropped, revealing a truly beautiful metal stature, of a female holding a shield, a crown, and carrying an American flag.

Gregg Arnold with his newest art project

The crowd’s reaction was over-whelming with clapping, cheers, and other loud noises of approval.

I looked the whole situation over, the people, the art work, and the place – and realized that not only was Gregg a very accomplished artist, but his love of this country was palpable.

It was certainly worth the drive to share in this moment along Route 66 at Antares Point.

The protector of Route 66