Jim Colyer

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, on December 29, 1945. Famous people with whom I share a birthday are Mary Tyler Moore and Andrew Johnson, the only president besides Bill Clinton to be impeached. I grew up 15 miles east of Louisville in Middletown. School began for me in the fall of 1952. I hated school, everything about it. My first grade teacher grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me because I tried to work a puzzle which was too hard for me without first asking. She was a dominatrix. She had two huge dogs which she prized. Maybe that is why I hate dogs to this day. Anyway, I went through grade school and high school without opening my mouth. I sat and waited for the bell to ring at three o'clock so I could go home and listen to rock & roll records on my small turntable. I bought Elvis Presley and Ricky Nelson. Only in my senior year did I find a means of expressing myself publicly. It was 1964, the year of The Beatles. I latched on to The Beatles. I looked in the mirror and saw John Lennon. If I had no talent and was too lazy to work, at least I could grow my hair. My hair became my vocation. I sat up half the night trying to write songs. My mother pulled me out of bed each morning by my arm. She was determined that I would graduate from high school. I strolled through commencement like a zombie in that stupid cap and gown. The cap crushed my Beatle hairdo. Thank God it was over!

Little did I know, it was only beginning! President John Kennedy was assassinated during my senior year of high school. It set off a tumultuous chain of events which took 13 years to run its course. The Vietnam War, race riots, illegal drugs, religious fanaticism, women's liberation, homosexuality and the political corruption of Watergate piled wave upon wave. I plowed through my 20s. I got an Associate degree from Lindsey Wilson College in central Kentucky in 1967. I was majoring in English. For the first time, I was taking an interest in literature. I was reading novels and grappling with European history. I thirsted for knowledge. I was eligible for the draft and like other young men, I was confused about Vietnam. The war made no sense. Nor did the draft. We were told we were in Vietnam to contain Communism. I had trouble understanding what a Communist was. No man could look at another and recognize him as a Communist. The isolated position of Vietnam was a problem. It lay behind the Philippines on the map. It did not jut out like the Korean peninsula. It was hard to get to, hard to defend. The draft was hard to justify. Something in me was saying no man had the right to take another man off the street and put him in a war against his will. Nevertheless, the draft was real. You went when you were called or risked the chance of being sent to prison. After getting a third year of college as an English major, my draft papers came. My education was without direction, and I went into the Army in October, 1969. I took basic training at Fort Knox, Kentucky. After advanced training in radio school, I received orders for Germany. I remember standing in formation and looking at those orders. What a relief! By 1969-70, most of America had turned against the war. Richard Nixon was slowly pulling troops out. Vietnam was becoming something that people wanted to forget. I set off for Germany. I had studied German for two semesters. I knew a few words, that was all. Once in Frankfurt, I readily found that the prostitutes spoke fluent English. I avoided them. I was thinking of the girl I left behind. I knew it was over but consoled myself with false hope. I did not care for Germany. It was dark and depressing. The buildings were drab. It was like going back to the Middle Ages. I ended up in a nuclear platoon. Way over my head! I drank too much German beer. Potent stuff! By the time I was discharged from the Army, America had changed. Hippie life had become a norm with young people. A grass roots religious movement was sweeping the country. Baby boomers searched for answers in the aftermath of war. They looked to Buddhism and various forms of mysticism. Cults sprang up. I got involved with a group of Jesus Freaks. We attended a Pentecostal church, spoke in tongues and wrote gospel songs. Jesus Paid My Debt came from this period. To this day, I regard the essence of the New Testament as ultimate reality.

In late 1973, I recorded a song called Long Live Rock & Roll. It was a tribute to what was then 20 years of rock & roll. I pressed 1,000 copies in Nashville and mailed them across the country. I would hear from that song. In 1981, I was working for the State of Tennessee. The people who had the publishing on Long Live Rock & Roll called to say Elvis Presley had recorded my song before he died and that RCA had released it on an 8-record set called Elvis Aron Presley. I was ecstatic. Wasn't this what I had dreamed of? I went to a record shop and bought the vinyl set. I took it home and played it only to be disappointed. It was my title, and I was credited as the writer, but it was not my song. It is hard to say what it was. The band was jamming, and Elvis was moaning in the background. My father said it was my song. I knew it was not. We argued. It makes a funny story today, but it was all secondary to the fact that making a record gave me new hope. I could do things. What next? I decided to finish college with help from the GI Bill. I had a plan. I had the idea of being a librarian since I had read a variety of books by this time and wanted to be around them. It did not occur to me that I did not have the temperament of a librarian. I was a bull in a china closet. I just had to do something. I finished my Bachelor's Degree in English at Union College in Barbourville, Kentucky. I wrote papers and took them in. Nearly all my courses were independent. I studied Greek drama, Shakespeare and the British Romantic poets. I was out of my mind but graduated and moved to Nashville to pursue a Master's Degree in Library Science from Peabody College. Peabody is now part of Vanderbilt University, and I am living in an apartment complex at Vanderbilt as I draft this bio, 30 years later. It is hard not to believe in full circles. I got the MLS and took a library job at Castle Heights Military Academy in Lebanon, Tennessee, east of Nashville off Interstate 40. It was a high school. For someone who hated school, I could not get enough of it. I was in my early 30s, and working with teenagers gave me a sense of responsibility. I quit drinking and tried to hold myself as an example for young people. I put on the same uniform I had worn in the Army. It was not easy. I was neither a soldier nor a librarian by nature. These were things I was caught up in from my youth. My second year at Castle Heights, the songwriter in me came out. I put together a band composed of students. We recorded an album with a friend of mine named Bill Davis. I met Bill while attending Peabody. He was a music major with ambitions of writing serious music. He would make quotation signs with his fingers when he talked about "serious music." Our album was centered around a song I wrote called Phoenix. We called the album Rising from the Ashes. I was fascinated with the idea of resurrection, the idea of rising from one's ashes. I liked comebacks, and comeback songs became a category within my catalog. I came to suspect that I was knocking myself down so I could have the opportunity of making still another comeback. The album left me closer to the students than to the faculty, and I received a pink slip. I could no longer do the military thing. I was 32. Jimmy Carter was president. Times were good, and disco music was on fire. ABBA was on the radio with Dancing Queen. The Bee Gees burned with Night Fever. I wanted a girl friend. I wanted to get married. I bought a house in Lebanon and moved in alone. In October, 1978, I took another library job, this time with the State of Tennessee in Nashville. God! I was never cut out to be a librarian!

Destiny stepped in! While at Castle Heights, I fell in love with the wife of a faculty member. We paired off every night in the cafeteria. We gazed dreamily into each other's eyes and confided our feelings of alienation. "We are under siege." she said. Her hair was dark, and her eyes were blue. Her skin was seductively pale. She reminded me of Madame Bovary from Gustav Flaubert's novel, the tragic, lonely wife waiting for some mystery lover to whisk her away to a better place. I wanted to. I thought it was going to happen. I contemplated it for two years. There was one huge obstacle. She had two young boys, and it was not in me to take someone else's kids. The spell broke. I bought the house and lay in bed every night for 10 months hurting over this woman. Her husband finally told me she had a boy friend, a disc jockey from Knoxville. There would be a divorce, but she was not moving in with me. The pain cut like a knife. I vowed that if I ever became enamored with another married woman, I would strike like lightning!

It did not take long. I went to work at the Tennessee State Library. My assistant sat behind me at her desk. It was Karen. I had no way of knowing she was the future mother of my son. We got to know each other quickly. Karen was married to a man who worked on another floor of the library. It was the same story, another unhappy wife. She told me that the week before, she loaded her car and drove around the block only to return because she had nowhere to go. Karen wanted a house. Her husband wanted to drink up their money and run off to Florida every time he got a chance. Karen wanted a baby. Her husband did not want one because he had a child by a previous marriage. Karen and I sat side by side, checking in serials. The chemistry was strong. We sat rubbing our legs together. Other employees noticed. Ten days after I took the job, Karen was in my bed in Lebanon. We set up a pattern of Thursday nights. She told her husband she was selling Avon. She would drive from Nashville to be with me. One night, we met on a corner next to the library to go to a movie. A fellow worker drove past in his car. We were sure he saw us. We saw a Woody Allen movie that night called Interiors, one of his worst. Then things came to a head. I told Karen to leave her husband and move in with me. I had a house and an income. I promised her a baby. She was not sure. We lay on the floor in my living room after sex. She cried and said she needed six months to think it over. Her mascara ran. I laughed and told her she looked like Alice Cooper. Six months was too long. I insisted that she move in right away. She said she would do it after Thanksgiving. Karen spent Thanksgiving with her detested in-laws. She remembered thinking, "This is the last time." Karen's daddy rented a U-Haul and moved her furniture and belongings to my house the next day while her husband was at work. It was Friday. Karen and I fell asleep in each other's arms that night. It would be that way for a while. We did the right thing.

A clash with Karen's husband was inevitable. He was waiting for us Monday morning, pacing on the sidewalk outside the library. He and I butted heads over the next few weeks. The climax came in the lobby of the library. We went at each other. He was bigger. I was more determined. I had him by the hair with his head down. I was a matador. He was the bull. We inched toward the stairwell. A wrong move, and we would have gone over.

I heard a bellowing voice. "What in the hell is going on here?" We looked up. It was the head librarian, a crusty, cigarette-smoking dyke. Behind her, library personnel were peeking through the main doors, their necks stretching to see the fight. It was over. I was given two weeks notice. Fisticuffs were not expected from library-types. Karen and I left together, and I would never use my degree again.

I had been through Las Vegas the previous summer. I got the idea of finding work there. Karen and I loaded my Ford Maverick and left for Vegas on Flag Day, June 14, 1979. We drove west on I-40. A couple of nights in motels, and we found ourselves cruising down Las Vegas Boulevard. We rented an apartment and looked for work. It was useless, at least for me. The trip gradually turned into a tour of the American west. After a month in Vegas, we retreated to Nashville. Karen finally got her divorce. It took a year because her idiot husband contested it. He sued me for "alienation of affection." I could not believe a lawyer would take such a ridiculous case. He found one stupid enough. Karen and I were married in April, 1980. I came in one morning from working all night at the U.S. Post Office. Karen informed me it was time to get married. I was going to wear jeans. She made me change into a pair of slacks. We drove to the courthouse in Lebanon. A woman married us, and I tipped her $20. One picture was taken of Karen and me kissing. That was it. I felt no different now that we were married than I did when we were living together.

These were years of travel, my 30s. I was fascinated with great places. Suddenly, I was free to go to places I had heard about all my life. My galleries are filled with pictures. Karen took them while I wrote papers. After a while, I had the full circle feeling. We were repeating as prices went up.

Karen and I began watching Dallas in the fall of 1979. It sounds crazy but when J.R. and Sue Ellen became parents on the show, that was when I realized I was going to be a father. I never thought it possible before. Karen and I knew we would be parents. We also believed we would have the boy she so desired.

I collected books on human sexuality. I had at least 20. I studied diagrams of the female reproductive organs. I learned about ovaries, Fallopian tubes and the uterus. I visualized my sperm cell working its way through Karen's tubes to fertilize her egg.

Karen removed her IUD (Intra-Uterine Device) and began trying to get pregnant. Things sometimes go awry, and it takes a couple of tries to get them right. That is how it was. Karen was pregnant by late 1982. In March, 1983, she called me where I was working as a printer for the State. She was at the doctor's. There was a miscarriage. I recall walking through the streets of Nashville with tears in my eyes. That night, Karen and I hugged in the kitchen. I said we would try again. Karen must have gotten pregnant the second time around June 11. Michael Brandon Colyer was born 9 months later on March 11, 1984. As it turned out, the pregnancies were so close that only one of the babies could be born. This was hard to understand and hard to explain. I accepted it as God's will. I came to feel that God brought me to Nashville for the purpose of becoming Michael's father. Years later, I felt He brought me back to Nashville to help my son after he got older. Karen and I divorced, and I ended up living in my parents' basement in Louisville. But I lived with Michael over a year, long enough to establish a permanent relationship. He never forgot me.

I turned 40 in my parents' basement. I felt that my life was over. I would be in the basement 12 years, 1985-1997. We perceive time differently after 40. It becomes a running facet. Days, months and years slip by with little meaning. We approach 50. We watch ourselves turn gray in the mirror and feel our strength ebb. We despise the music of the day and have no interest in television. We long for our youth and are envious of the younger generation.

"I must go on." I wrote that line on New Year's Eve, 1985. Everything I have done since has grown from that seed. Michael came first. I was virtually broke but started going to Michael when I could afford it. There was no pattern. I went to Nashville when something inside me said the time was right. I would either get a motel and do things with Michael or bring him to Louisville. My parents sometimes went with me. I would have been on the street without them. It was the same for Karen. Her parents built an apartment onto their house for her and Michael.

The basement years passed. I read books and wrote papers. I revived ABBA. I watched movies on video. I went to Las Vegas and to Sweden. Bill Clinton was elected president, then reelected. It was 1997, and there was a 70s revival. I had written an environmental song called Save The Planet which I advertised in a local music paper. A lady in southern Indiana answered, and I went to her house. We made a tape in her living room. I still believe in that song and finally recorded it in Nashville at Direct Image Studio. I sang it myself. For such a song to gain acceptance, we need to be in a liberal era. A War on Terror is not a favorable climate. Hopefully, we will win the war and there will be peace.

I ended up back in Nashville in July, 1997, in an apartment on Music Row. I began writing songs like crazy, girl songs. It was the Shania Twain era. In retrospect, it seemed inevitable. God had brought me back to Nashville for Michael. He was 13, and it was best to be close so I could get to him when he needed me. We began having meals together and seeing movies. We talked about life, school, girls and the future. We had many conversations while riding in the Nissan truck I bought on Broadway.

I was singing my songs on public access TV. It kept the ball rolling. I was recording girl singers with Doc Dockery in Indiana and with Kenny Royster in Nashville. My biggest challenge was trying not to fall in love with my current singer whoever she was. Songs poured out of me: All Roads Lead To You, I'm The One, Hard Earned Love, Half Crazy Half The Time, Rough Night, Name, Number & Message, The Truth. I was a genius in my own mind as the 20th century faded into the 21st. I did karaoke. I sang the songs of the big four: Elvis Presley, The Beatles, ABBA and Shania Twain. Being older, it did not bother me to get up and sing a Shania song. I was writing for women anyway. I tried not to be affected by 9/11. There was no way not to be. But I have learned to keep an eye on the future. I took Michael to Florida while he was still in high school. I took him to New York City and to Washington, D.C. in his third year of college. We went to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon in 2007. I am thinking Hollywood, Sequoias and back to New York to the new Yankee Stadium. Musically, I am working my best material. I managed to get cuts with several artists on Colt Records. Our best days lie ahead.

Jim Colyer

Michael and I plan on being in Las Vegas New Year's Eve as 2010 turns into 2011. We have never spent New Year's Eve together, so this will be an opportune time.



I returned to Las Vegas for three months, March 7 to June 8, 1993, with the intention of adding to the experience I had in 1979. I dug in at the Tropicana Club at the south end of Las Vegas Boulevard. I relied on the strip trolley for transportation. I wanted to hang out. Bill Clinton was America's new president, and we were going through a 70s revival. It was an opportune moment for escaping my parents' basement, where I had held up for over seven years, It was a chance to fend for myself, to procure my own food and to wash my own clothes. I flew into McCarran Airport from Minnesota, my first flight in 15 years. Las Vegas was the same in many ways, and in some ways it had changed. The Ali Baba Apartments were gone. The Dunes was coming down, and the old MGM Grand was now Ballys. Las Vegas, or the Meadows, was still the entertainment capital of the world. The Strip is a work of art . Unfortunately, wind, heat, crowds, traffic and noise ensure that it is part heaven, part hell. You pump up the things you like, economize and get the best deals. I finally saw rain.

The castle Excalibur was the attraction. It exploited medieval motifs: King Arthur and Robin Hood. I patronized restaurants in the Medieval Village on the second level. A belly dancer did her thing. The Excalibur, Luxor, Tropicana and the MGM Grand formed a new hot corner. The trend was toward family entertainment.

Downtown, the Golden Goose Casino was a topless joint. The sign was still there, an historic fixture on the Glitter Gulch landscape. The sign faces both directions. Above it, revolves the goose on its nest of golden eggs. Cowboy Vegas Vic and cowgirl Sassy Sally patrol adjacent sides of the street.

Caesar's Palace is hard to top. The Forum Shops at Caesar's price themselves into the luxury class. The 18 foot replica of Michelangelo's David (of David and Goliath) presides over Appian Way as the Italian Renaissance imposes itself on the Roman Empire. I ventured into the pool area behind Caesar's, romantic under a moonlit sky. Next door, the Mirage showed off an erupting volcano. The casinos are awful: men at the tables, women on the machines. Expressionless zombies! One must refrain from drinking and gambling if he is to enjoy Las Vegas.

It was the production shows which interested me: leggy, statuesque dancers and showgirls. Ballys' Jubilee! was the hot ticket. It was the biggest show on the Strip and had the best showgirls. I took Jubilee's backstage tour but was disappointed to have a male dancer as a guide instead of a sexy showgirl. Still, I gained insight. One thing which impressed me was the size of the stage. From the stage, the seating area appeared small. Jubilee! is a dinosaur, a glamorous throwback to the musicals of yesterday. It is a composite of Vaudeville, Broadway and classic Hollywood. It boasts of its nightly sinking of the Titanic, but the thrill is seeing all those long, shapely legs assembled in one place. 100 people make up the cast. The show is so lavish, it leaves you dazed. I got revenge for the tour when that same male dancer took a picture of me with one of the girls.

I saw Folies Bergere (Ber-share) at the Tropicana. Karen and I saw this show in 1979. This time, I took the backstage tour which was led by a former showgirl of 20 years. She may have been in the show we saw 14 years before. It was interesting to get behind the scenes, especially into the dressing rooms to see and handle the costumes. Some of them are heavy, so the girls have to be strong. I lingered briefly to talk to the showgirl. I asked if there were a pension plan for those who stayed 20 years. She said no, but they were nice and had given her this job. Folies Bergere was the oldest show in Vegas, going back to 1959.

Bare Essence at the Sands lived up to its billing as a "sexy, sizzling revue." All the shows create a sense of euphoria.

The Stardust had Enter the Night, emblematic of the darkness which pervaded my trip.

For Crazy Girls, the showroom at the Riviera provided some intimacy. I suppose my feeling of being hustled in and out derived from wanting to take some of those splendid calves and thighs home with me.

I made it to Arizona Charlie's for the Naughty Ladies review. It was good, old timey fun, high button shoes. For the finale, we paraded to "When The Saints Go Marching In."

The Elvis impersonator at Vegas World put on a complimentary show. He called himself E.P. King. I looked down on the city from the top of the building.

A promo ticket gave me access to Imperial Palace's antique cars.

I was scared of Death Valley in 1979. This time, I took the Silver Star Line tour. I rode shotgun in the van as we made stops at Dante's View and the Devil's Golf Course. The "golf course" is a dried lake with salt three feet deep. I tasted it. Death Valley is on the Nevada-California line.

The borax mined in Death Valley is a mineral used in soap. The 105 elements in chemistry make up the 3,000 minerals in geology. Minerals form three kinds of rocks: sedimentary, igneous, metamorphic. Fossils are found in sedimentary rocks, those laid down by water.

In Laughlin, I took a ride on the Colorado River, 90 miles southeast of Vegas.

Returning to Louisville in order to rendezvous with Michael, I came east on I-40, old Route 66: Kingman, Flagstaff, Albuquerque, Amarillo, Oklahoma City, Little Rock, Memphis and Nashville.

The strip is a short-lived thing, like the Mall in D.C. I will show it to Michael as part of a western experience.

New York City 2009
Michael and I plan to return to New York in 2009. We will see a game at the new Yankee Stadium. We will see the Kristina! musical in Concert at Carnegie hall. We will tour the Federal Reserve Bank on Wall Street.

New York City 2005
Tuesday, August 9 (Day 1) - Michael and Karen came to my apartment at 4:30 in the morning. I met them in the garage. Karen drove us to the airport. We left Nashville at 6am on Delta Flight 5405. This was Michael's first time on a plane, a good thing about the trip. We changed planes in Cincinnati and arrived at Kennedy Airport in New York at 11:31am. We caught the airbus to lower Manhattan. Our first day was hard. I had a hostel waiting. Michael would not stay there. We spotted the Empire State Building in the distance and started walking. The Empire State Building is at 34th Street & 5th Avenue. It was built, 1930-31, and its architecture reflects the period. It is shaped like a pencil. There are 102 floors. The observatory is on the 86th. The line was long. I told Michael the story of how I came here in the Army. "It was a cold, windy night, and my hat blew off. I caught up with it." We looked down on Manhattan as I had years ago. 20,000 buildings are seen. New York is a study in buildings and architecture. We saw the Hudson and East Rivers. We hit the streets looking for a hotel. We entered Central Park. Joggers were running. I felt we were getting in deep, so we retraced our steps. We found Times Square. Michael was elated. It dawned on me how much Times Square meant to him because of seeing it on television and in movies. He took pictures from every angle. Night fell. We were turned away from hotels. We went into TGI Friday's. The Yankees were playing the White Sox on the Yes Network. We watched the game and talked about staying up all night. We went looking one last time and found the Portland Square Hotel. It was a miracle. The room was small but clean and quiet. Best of all, it was right around the corner from Times Square and the Palace Theatre where we had tickets for the Broadway show. Nothing is cheap in New York. I tried to keep expenses under control while doing what we came to do. Michael brought his cell phone and stayed in touch with his mother and friends. People were everywhere. You dodge them. Horns blow. Cabs whiz. It is an effort to cross streets. Michael and I stayed close. We had a flexible plan which we adjusted as we went along. We walked for long stretches. We sat and rested. Michael said he was overweight. This was a chance for him to work off some pounds and for me to fight arthritis.

Wednesday, August 10 (Day 2) - We made our way to Yankee Stadium in the Bronx by subway. The Stadium is located at 161st & River Ave. I got tickets by email, $52 total. We were in the upper deck down the third base line toward left field. The game took up a large part of the day. I wanted a day game so we would have light when we hit the street. The New York Yankees played the Chicago White Sox. This was traditional American League baseball. The Yankees lost, but the main thing was that we experienced a game at Yankee Stadium. There were some leftovers from the great team of the 1990s: Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, Jorge Posada, Mariano Rivera, Tino Martinez and manager Joe Torre. The Stadium itself was the star. I noted the big "NY" behind home plate and the facade in the outfield. I remembered how Mickey Mantle came within inches of hitting one out. I gazed at the bullpen and could see the edge of Monument Park from where we sat. The Yankees dugout was on the first base side. We roamed through souvenir shops.

Thursday, August 11 (Day 3) -
This was the day we cracked New York. We rode the subway to Lower Manhattan and Ground Zero. Ground Zero was fenced in. We walked around the perimeter. It was a solemn site, not unlike Pearl Harbor. It was not so emotional at this point, but we wondered what it was like in the city on that day. Freedom Tower is being built. Michael pointed to a cross. From Ground Zero, we hoofed it to Wall Street as I had in the past. Wall Street is the country's financial center, and Michael wanted to see the New York Stock Exchange where stocks are bought and sold. NYSE lists 2,800 companies and has the largest trading volume of any stock exchange except NASDAQ. This was an education for Michael. Federal Hall across the street is where George Washington was inaugurated. Michael got pictures of his statue. Wall Street got its name from the wall built by the Dutch to protect themselves from Indians. The British took New Amsterdam and renamed it New York in honor of the Duke of York. We moved toward Battery Park. A German girl took our picture as we ferried to the Statue of Liberty. She was from Hamburg. We talked about The Beatles and the Star Club. Michael and I spent an hour on Liberty Island looking up at the green Statue. His Liberty pictures are like post cards. I was doing this for Michael. He was seeing New York for the first time. The Statue of Liberty was a gift from the French. It was done by sculptor Bartholdi and commemorated French support during the American Revolution. Lady Liberty holds a tablet reading July 4, 1776, in Roman numerals. Her arm is straight. She holds a torch. There are seven spikes in her crown representing seven continents. Her official name is "Liberty Enlightening the World." Battery Park is so named because of guns which once defended Lower Manhattan. We returned to the room to rest. It was a hot August day. I was thirsty, and water fountains were not to be found. I secured the tickets for All Shook Up which I got from Ticketmaster by email. The show was at the Palace Theatre, 1564 Broadway. I remembered the address because it was the year of Shakespeare's birth. Off we went. We were in the balcony. The theatre was ornate, and the usher told us it was about 100 years old. All Shook Up combined the music of Elvis Presley with the plot of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. It was fun. We exited the theatre and went to our room for our last night in the city.

Michael had to see Trump Tower, and we found it. It is residential. Its condominiums are for the rich. Donald Trump is a real estate developer and Michael's hero. I took a picture of Michael against the backdrop of Trump and his wife, Melania. Michael bought shirts at Brooks Brothers. The clerk told him Trump's assistant came in the day before. We passed Rockefeller Center and got pictures of Prometheus and Radio City Music Hall. We slipped into the NBC studios shop. We ate at ESPN Zone and saw a bad collision between two baseball players on TV.

Friday, August 12 (Day 4) - On our way out of town, we stopped by New York University. Washington Square Park sits on the edge of NYU, and we saw the arch. We entered a book store. Michael compared the business books to MTSU's. We got to Kennedy Airport with time to spare and ate at Chili's Too. It was a straight flight to Nashville. We arrived on Delta/Comair. Karen met us and dropped me off at Vanderbilt.

I had it in mind to take Michael to the main sections of the United States: south, up east and out west. Daytona Beach was our trip south. New York and Washington, D.C. were up east. Las Vegas will be west. I see my early trips to New York as preparation for the trip with Michael.

I spent two days in Manhattan in October, 1984. My first stop was Dinosaur Hall in the American Museum of Natural History. The Museum sits near Central Park. Dinosaur-mania was talking hold. I saw tyrannosaurus, brontosaurus, triceratops and stegosaurus. Some fossilized eggs added credibility to the existence of these creatures. I attended a show at the Hayden Planetarium inside the museum. My second day began at the top of the World Trade Center (the one without the tower). I looked down at the Statue of Liberty snug within its scaffold. It was being renovated. Since 9/11, I have imagined what it might have been like standing on the observation deck as a plane flew into it. 9/11 happened 17 years after I stood there. It showed that the perpetrators hate all Americans, not white or back, Republicans or Democrats. Anyone could have been in those buildings on that day. From the Towers, I hoofed it to Wall Street. The street was short and nearly deserted. It was Sunday. I learned that George Washington was inaugurated there in 1789. The bus took me back up the Avenue of the Americas to Midtown. I saw the gold leaf statue of Prometheus against the backdrop of the RCA Building. In Greek mythology, Prometheus taught man how to use fire. The statue depicts him descending from Mount Olympus encircled by the Zodiac. I wanted to see the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall, but they were not performing. I watched a presidential debate on television between Ronald Reagan and Walter Mondale. The morning before I left, I rode a bus out 42nd Street to the United Nations. I entered the building but did not take the tour. There was a protest against Reagan which rubbed me the wrong way. I glimpsed the N.Y.P.L. (library) and Madison Square Garden before heading back to Nashville.

April, August, 1974 - New York state
On truck with Chester. We went to Erie, Pennsylvania, and across upstate New York: Rochester and Syracuse. We spent the night in Binghamton. We were in New York when the tornado hit Louisville on April 3. The closer we got to Louisville, the more we heard about it. It took the roof off Candy Heim's house. She was in the Air Force by then.

December, 1970 - Philadelphia & New York City
In Philadelphia, I gazed through the windows of Independence Hall at the Liberty Bell. In New York, I ascended the Empire State Building and blitzed through Greenwich Village and Times Square by night. I was in the Army and made these trips with two guys from Valley Forge Hospital in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. It was cold and windy in New York. My saucer cap blew off at the top of the Empire State Building. I chased it down before it went over the edge.

Going West 2009 - California
Michael and I flew into Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) on Frontier Airlines, May 16, 2009. We changed planes in Denver and flew over the Grand Canyon. We returned, May 22. I used expedia.com to purchase our plane tickets. They were $640.60.

We reserved an economy car, a Toyota, from Hertz. It was waiting at the airport. They honored my AAA membership. We got unlimited milage for $302.65.

Rented cars are expensive. At least there were two of us benefiting. While out west, we were not using our vehicles or buying gas in Nashville so, to some degree, things evened out.

We drove straight to Sequoia National Park. We headed for the trees. We drove up Interstate 5, got onto 99 and 198. We went through Bakersfield and Visalia. We called the Park at 1-559-565-3341. People out that way know how to get to the park and we got directions. It is about 220 miles from the airport to Sequoia Park.

I reserved a room at the Comfort Inn in Three Rivers outside Sequoia for the night of May 16. We were six miles from the park entrance. Three Rivers is a resort town. We toured the park twice.

Karen and I came down from Kings Canyon in 1979. Michael and I drove north from Los Angeles. There is still no road crossing Sequoia National Park from east to west. We came out the same way we went in.

It was one night at Sequoia. I recalled Michael thinking two nights at the Grand Canyon was too much.

The biggest Sequoias are in Giant Forest. This is where the General Sherman tree is, the largest living thing on earth. We walked along the trail to it, and Michael spotted a deer. We saw bears.

The top of the Sherman tree is dead. The tree called The Sentinel sits in front of the museum.

Giant Sequoias are an orange-copperish color. Looking up through their green tops into the blue sky, one experiences a healing. Their presence is reassuring. The air was still. No wind.

We climbed Moro Rock and looked down on the surrounding area, something Karen and I did not do. That topped it off. Leaving the Park, we patted trees and told them goodbye, promising to return.

We drove back from Sequoia the evening of May 17. Michael stopped along side the road, and I picked oranges from a tree. Michael said it was one of the best oranges he ever tasted.

Los Angeles has the biggest complex of freeways in the world: six lanes going, six lanes coming. We had to be careful. We met traffic with patience. Michael drove.

I reserved a room for five nights: May 17-21, at the Best Western Media Center Inn in "Beautiful Downtown Burbank" as Johnny Carson used to say. The AAA rate was $866.20. Our address was 3910 W. Riverside Drive, Burbank. We were near the NBC Studios.

Michael and I were in bed when the bed and building shook for a few seconds. It was an earthquake: my first, Michael's second. It was on the news.

We had tickets for Jay Leno and the Tonight Show. I was stunned when they arrived in my mail box. Michael said it put the icing on the cake. There were two tapings, and we saw both. We stayed in line several hours to make sure we got in. Cameron Diaz and Terry Bradshaw were guests. Announcer John Melendez brought people on stage to warm up the audience. I went down and sang Dancing Queen by ABBA. The crowd went wild! We met Paul Crunk and his wife. Paul helped us get oriented, and we appreciated his company. The four of us ate at the Outback. These were Leno's 9th and 10th shows from his last on May 29, and we were fortunate to see him. The shows were taped at NBC Studios in Burbank at 3000 W. Alameda Avenue.

I had the idea to structure the 2009 trip something like the ones before it. Keep it in the same frame. We concentrated on Burbank, Hollywood, Beverly Hills and Malibu. We went to the Hollywood and Highland Center at the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue. We got pictures of the Kodak Theatre. This is where the Academy Awards (Oscars) are given. Michael knew about it. Grauman's Chinese Theatre is there, and we saw the handprints and footprints of Tom Hanks in cement. It was nice to stroll down the Hollywood Walk of Fame with my son 31 years after I did it the first time. We got a picture of Jay Leno's star. We were prevented from entering the Capitol Records Building because of 9/11.

We roamed through the Hollywood Hills trying to get a picture of the Hollywood sign. After several wrong turns and some frustration, we got it. Roads were narrow and the houses in the hills were jammed together like sardines. Michael said he could not live in Hollywood but admitted that the Hollywood sign was like the Statue of Liberty to him. We drove by Hollywood High (School).

Hollywood is part of Los Angeles. Beverly Hills is separate but surrounded by the city.

Michael wanted to see Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. It is where the stars shop! We went into Brooks Brothers, Michael's favorite. Michael said it is a different world going from trashy Hollywood to classy Beverly Hills. We ate at the Cheesecake Factory and drove through the Beverly Hills Hotel. We noted the abundance of expensive cars on Rodeo Drive.

The statue we photographed in the parking garage is called Embrace.

Laguna Beach was a big deal. It reminded me of Daytona. Michael wanted to go there because of the TV show of the same name. We drove to Laguna Beach down the Pacific Coast Highway and returned to Burbank on Interstate 5. Our road. Michael saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time.

Our last full day, we rode up the Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu. "Michael B. in Malibu." The city of Malibu is a strip of Pacific coastline and home to many movie stars.

We took Sunset Boulevard coming back and drove through Bel Air, where Elvis had a house while making his movies. Michael rolled down the window and asked, "Do you smell that? It smells like money!" We passed through Hollywood, getting a picture of the billboard advertising Night at the Smithsonian.

We dropped the car off at L.A. International, settled our account and flew out. Michael had his friend meet us in Nashville.

We had the idea that one plus one equals three. There was me, and there was Michael. The third person was me and Michael together.



Going West 2007 - Las Vegas
Michael and I flew to Las Vegas June 7, and returned June 13, 2007. We spent the first two nights at the Sahara at the north end of the Strip. The third and fourth nights we were in the Red Feather Lodge at the Grand Canyon. We stayed at New York-New York the last two nights. We flew Southwest Airlines. I bought tickets at the airport using my check card. We concentrated on the new side of Vegas. We rode the monorail which links the Strip from the Sahara to the MGM Grand. Themed hotels are the stars in today's Vegas.

We landed at McCarran Airport and took the shuttle to the Sahara. We travelled light, taking things which were necessary. The city of lights came to life on our first night. We relished the view from the Eiffel Tower at Paris Las Vegas. The Tower is a 1/2 replica of the real thing. Vegas sprawled into the desert. Its population has grown to 1.8 million.

Las Vegas has changed since I was there in 1993. There are mega-hotels: New York-New York, Paris Las Vegas, Bellagio, Venetian, Mandalay Bay and Luxor. They exist for the purpose of making money for the people who own and operate them. We spent conservatively and aimed for an experience consistent with our needs.

We knew why we were here and what we would do. We bought a digital camera, and Michael got 140 pictures. We walked through the hotels. The Bellagio fountains put on a spectacular show while Elvis sang Viva Las Vegas. The Bellagio is Michael's favorite. He called it a "5 star high roller." We saw Bob Dole in the casino.

Our second day began with Michael having his picture taken with a showgirl. He glowed! We visited the antique car collection at the Imperial Palace. I posed behind a 1955 Cadillac Elmerado.

People were everywhere. We kept moving. We played video poker, and I helped Michael with the hands, having played poker in my younger days. We ate well while keeping the cost down. When we were tired, we rested. We walked to Mandalay Bay at the south end of the Strip and watched the Yankees play the Diamondbacks. The Bay was home to Mamma Mia!, and I told Michael we would see the movie.

They had started the Luxor when I was there in 93. I kept thinking, "It looks like a pyramid." Then someone said it was. The beam from the top can be seen 250 miles away. The Sphinx and the obelisk are out front. An obelisk is a four-sided stone needle with a pyramid top. The idea of a curse always surrounds Egyptian stuff. It is not true, of course, but it plays with your head.

Phase 2
We rented a car and drove to the Grand Canyon, stopping at Hoover Dam on the way. A bypass is being built. The dam provides electricity for California, Arizona and Nevada.

Michael drove. We took 93 south to Kingman, Arizona, and went east on Interstate 40 to Williams. We headed north on 64. It is a 4 or 5 hour drive. We had reservations at the Red Feather Lodge in Tusayan, near the park entrance.

I spotted it, the Grand Canyon! the most awesome spectacle on the planet! We pulled over for a picture. We stopped at a number of overlooks along the south rim.

We attended the star party at Yavapai Point. We looked at Jupiter and Saturn through telescopes. I pointed out the Big Dipper and North Star to Michael. The Grand Canyon Star Party (GCSP) takes place each June.

We drove to Desert View Watchtower at the eastern end of the south rim. We climbed it. At Desert View, Michael and I saw the Colorado River at the bottom of the Canyon.

We saw hikers rehearsing at Bright Angel Trail for a descent the next morning. Michael said that when he comes again, he will go to the bottom. The Canyon is 277 miles long. It took the Colorado River 7 million years to carve it. The rocks at the bottom are two billion years old.

The Colorado flows from the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains through the Canyon. It dumps into the Gulf of California. The Grand Canyon was made a national park in 1919.

We were at the Canyon two nights. Michael thought one night would have been enough. I insisted it is not every day that two guys from Nashville see the Grand Canyon. There is a sameness about the red buttes and mesas which makes it hard to focus on them.

Valleys are in the east. Canyons are in the west.

Phase 3
Back in Vegas, we checked into New York-New York. We were on the 25th floor.

New York New York is a replica of the New York skyline. We find the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty and the Bar at Times Square.

I soaked in the tub each morning and wore my straw hat to keep the sun off my head. I had the bag Charlotte bought me when I went to Sweden. Michael took a suitcase. We watched TV in our room before going to sleep.

Michael sat by the pool while I visited the Atomic Testing Museum. We checked out the Palms because it had a Playboy club. We ate at the Outback. I had "shrimp on the barbie."

We went to Fremont Street downtown and got pictures of Vegas Vic and Sassy Sally.

We saw Jubilee! our last night in town. I saved it for the finale. Jubilee! was started by Donn Arden. I had outgrown my showgirl fantasies.

We went to Red Rock Canyon the morning before we left. Red Rock is a National Conservation Area protected by the Bureau of Land Management. It is a 13-mile loop out Charleston Boulevard. The red sandstone formations make an interesting drive. Michael saw Joshua trees for the first time.

We made our way back to McCarran and flew to Nashville. It was a direct flight. Karen met us.

My goal was to introduce Michael to one of our most exciting cities and to give him an experience in the west. I try to bolster his confidence and his ability to get around. I told him the city is a magnet and that he will do doubt return.



GOING WEST 1979
The west is like another country, at times like another planet. Its variety is endless. It can be thought of in terms of its major cities or be approached from the standpoint of its National Parks. The National Park system is an effort by the federal government to preserve nature's masterpieces. Fees are minimal, geology the theme. The parks are linked by a system of highways and Interstates that are the best in the world. America's roads are her greatest achievement. It is all transportation.

Going west on I-40, the real change takes place in New Mexico. The town of Tucumcari looks as much like Mexico as the United States. But when you think that the southwest belonged to Mexico until 1848, it is easy to understand Spanish influence. A few weeks in the southwest will make one see U.S. history from a whole new perspective.

There are some marvelous sights in Arizona. The Painted Desert and Petrified Forest lie side by side. From several vantage points, we gazed at the colored streaks of sand. We saw Newspaper Rock, a rock covered with Indian petroglyphs.

Inside the Petrified Forest is a spot called the Crystal Forest. There can not be a more peaceful place on earth. We saw it at sunset. Bits and pieces of petrified wood lay scattered about, and Karen and I felt the sensation of being at the dawn of creation. There were no people for miles on either side. The orange sunset, turquoise sky and quiet blended in perfect bliss.

Near Winslow lies the fabulous Meteor Crater. It is a circular hole three miles in circumference. It was created by the impact of a prehistoric meteor. Pictures can not portray its enormity. Astronauts have used the spot as a training ground. In the distance stands Mt. Humphreys, the highest point in Arizona.

The Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon is the greatest single phenomenon on the face of the planet! It seems to stand totally out of time. It makes the great literary and musical achievements of mankind seem insignificant. During my first visit, I wondered at the amazement of those who ventured upon it having seen no previous pictures or post cards. They must have doubted their eyes. Indeed, from the rim the Canyon hardly seems real. All sense of distance is defied. The Canyon is a mile deep. It averages 10 miles across, rim to rim, and runs for 277 miles. It is Arizona's pride, and tour buses leave regularly from Flagstaff. The Colorado River cuts through it but looks like a tiny ribbon from above. Geologists speculate that cutting action from the Colorado is what created the Canyon. This was hard to accept at first, but after seeing other wonders, I realized that geologists see with different eyes. They are attuned much the way astronomers are. It took 7 million years for the river to carve the Canyon.

I looked over the rim to see a mule train crossing the Canyon floor. The mules looked the size of ants. There are trails leading to the bottom of which Bright Angel Trail is the most famous. People were ascending on foot. They were exhausted.

During the second trip, Karen and I saw both the north and south rims. The north rim is less dramatic, but we caught it at dusk and during a thunderstorm which made it particularly austere. We walked out to a point where the wind was up. The Canyon was dark and ominous. We were virtually suspended over the chasm. The austerity of the scene was enhanced by the lightning in the distance.

We circled the Canyon that night to see the south rim in the morning. We slept in the car in Cameron, Utah. We beelined to the south rim at daybreak and caught the sun rising. We got a series of pictures which showed the sun's rays filling the Canyon with light. The river below seemed to be without movement.

Las Vegas

Sprinting from Kingman, Arizona, to Las Vegas, Nevada, you can feel the thrill and enchantment of the city drawing you on. There is an anticipation of something great. Most of the action in Las Vegas is found in two places, Fremont Street downtown and the newer and sprawling Las Vegas Boulevard. It is a city of lights. It never sleeps. At first, it is hard to believe such a place could exist, that little old ladies can be seen gambling their hearts out at 6 o'clock in the morning. But there are rows and rows of slot machines, and the gambling is not just limited to casinos and hotels. There are slot machines strategically placed in restaurants and supermarkets as well. I theorized that Las Vegas is a spinoff from southern California and that only the desert could make such liberties possible.

The basic unit on the Strip is the hotel. Driving down Las Vegas Boulevard, one is amazed at the marquees and famous names. The hotels are like gigantic malls. There are shops and boutiques of all kinds. Most of the hotels have names consistent with the desert atmosphere. There are the Sands, the Desert Inn, the Sahara and the Aladdin. We spent time in all of them.

The most distinctive and appealing of the hotels are Caesar's Palace and Circus Circus. Caesar's Palace at night is a gorgeous shade of green. An escalator carries patrons from the sidewalk to the front entrance as a recorded message provides the welcome, "I, Caesar, welcome you to my Caesar's Palace..." Replicas of famous statues exploit the Roman theme. When we arrived, Ann-Margret was at Caesar's.

Circus Circus is like a never-ending carnival. It features circus acts at intervals through most of the day. There are games and stuffed animal prizes to lure the young and unsuspecting. While we were there, artists worked on a statue of a gorilla in front of the hotel.

All the big hotels have shows, and no one should go to Las Vegas without seeing a couple. They run the gamut from comedy to music to animal acts to burlesque. They are Broadway in style and are for the sexually liberated. We saw two major shows. They were Folies Bergere at the Tropicana and Razzle Dazzle at the Flamingo Hilton. Razzle Dazzle was on ice. It occurred to me that girls in their twenties flock to Vegas from all around to sell their legs.

We lived for a month on Deckow Lane, down the street from the Tropicana. We were in the Ali Baba Apartments. We worked a couple of days. I worked for an office equipment place, and Karen worked at the phone company and the Golden Goose Casino. Take away the hotels and casinos, and Las Vegas would be like any place else.

There are some interesting sights surrounding Las Vegas. Old Nevada, a replica of a western mining town, sits at the foot of some tall and scenic bluffs. There is a petting zoo there and some beautiful peacocks. On the way to Old Nevada is Red Rock Canyon. The blue sky, red sandstone cliffs and green desert landscape merge in silent beauty. Yucca plants prosper. The peacefulness of the scene matches that of the Valley of Fire State Park. In the Valley of Fire, we stopped to look at a petrified log. Again, we were totally alone. I yelled, and my voice echoed off the distant hills. This kind of environment was a pleasant relief from the turmoil of the city. It was hot in the Valley. At the tourist center, the thermometer read 118 degrees. The twisted rock formations in the Valley of Fire have taken some extraordinary shapes. One grouping is known as the Seven Sisters, and there are several so-called elephant rocks.

When my Greyhound crossed the Hoover Dam in 1978, it was at night, and I could not see anything. I was barely aware of where I was. When Karen and I returned to the spot, we were amazed. The dam captured our imaginations. It was built between 1931 and 1935.

Hoover Dam blocks the Colorado River in its journey from the Grand Canyon to southern California. Lake Mead sits behind the dam. It is in the middle of the desert and complete with beaches.

The Desert

The desert is so eerie and yet so compelling. Trees become remembered as an eastern vegetation. Brown landscapes become normal. We were most aware of the desert during our journey from Las Vegas to Yosemite. We felt our isolation most keenly when viewing some white sands from a high elevation and thinking it was a body of water. Our car ran short of gas, and we just made it to Big Pine, California. These were our most apprehensive moments. We were glad when we espied the Sierra Nevada.

The Mojave Desert lies between Las Vegas and southern California. For the most part, it is flat and featureless. Joshua trees are abundant as they are in all southwest states.

Around Barstow, the power of the desert is strong. The presence of Death Valley can be felt. We did not cross the Valley but passing a few miles from it, the heat hitting my face was like a blast from a furnace. The thought of Death Valley instills wariness in the tourist. A temperature of 134 degrees was once recorded there. It is the lowest place in the United States, 282 feet below sea level.

The mountains of the west present a contrast to those of the east. They appear sculpted. They are flat on top and treeless. The buttes and mesas are formed from rock, whereas eastern hills are primarily earth. Paradoxically, there are a lot of flash floods in the desert because water runs off ridges and stands on the desert floor.

Yosemite National Park

Yosemite lies across the Sierras in California. This is where we spent the night of July 4, 1979. The stars were beautiful shining through the Ponderosa pines. We slept in a tent.

The mountains of Yosemite are breath-taking. They had snow on them in July, and Karen made a snowball. From above, we satisfied ourselves with the explanation that the valley was carved by glaciers. The scale is a grand one. The one thing all National Parks have in common is a quality of magic. Natural beauty is their offering. They are raw, primeval.

We got pictures of Yosemite Falls. It is the highest falls in North America. It divides into upper and lower. We crossed the bridge leading around the lower section.

El Capitan is the second attraction, the world's largest exposed mass of granite. It stands 3,000 feet above the valley floor. Yosemite is full of domes shaped by glaciers during the Ice Age.

The Sequoias

San Francisco seemed pleasant for such a big city. I stormed the bay area, but never saw the Golden Gate Bridge. That was 1978. I headed for Reno, where I learned the devastating power of gambling. A guy at a street corner told me he had just lost $7,000, his life's savings. From Reno, I was going to the Sequoias. I got as far as Carson City and turned back. I played the slots all night in Carson City waiting for a bus.

The big trees were exerting their pull. The following summer, Karen and I saw the Sequoias. We toured the three adjacent parks while on an excursion from our base in Las Vegas. We saw our first Sequoia in Yosemite. My reaction must have been comical as I jumped from the car and ran to it. Karen said I looked like a little boy. The Wawona Tunnel Tree is in Yosemite. This is the one they used to drive cars through. It fell in 1969 and still lies there.

Sequoia National Park lies south of Kings Canyon N.P. We got more exposure to the big trees. There are 75 groves strung across the western slopes of the Sierras. The epic proportions and otherworldliness of the Sequoias put them in a category with the Grand Canyon. Some are as much as 3,500 years old. They were living when man's civilization was in its infancy, when King Tut reigned in Egypt. Their age is attributed to a chemical in the sap which resists bacteria. The bark is soft and spongy and may be from six inches to a foot thick. The crowns are small compared to the rest of the tree. Before the Ice Age, much of North America was covered by Sequoias. Certainly, there is a prehistoric quality about them. Many have been ravaged by lightning and fire, but the older ones are being replaced by younger ones even today. The General Sherman Tree is the largest, located in Sequoia Park.

Southern California.

My experiences in southern California in 1978-79 were limited. In 1978, I took a city bus to Hollywood and Vine. I entered the Capitol Records Building and saw gold Beatle discs hanging on the wall. On the sidewalk, I saw the Walk of Fame, celebrities' names inscribed in a series of star patterns.

In July, 1979, Karen and I left Las Vegas for Anaheim and Disneyland. Karen had been to the park in Florida, so she conducted the tour. The rides were thematic. There were Frontierland, Fantasyland and Tomorrowland. Disney's secret was in making the most of his knowledge of children's literature. To this, he added his own characters. I had a migraine headache. I was too old for Disneyland.

Yellowstone National Park

After six days and nights dozing on the Greyhound, I finally took a room in Salt Lake City. The next morning, I observed the Mormon Temple, or temple of the Latter Day Saints. Only Mormons are permitted inside. Salt Lake City is a clean town. No slums.

From Salt Lake City, I rode the bus north to Yellowstone, Through the window, I glimpsed the Great Salt Lake. A lady was telling me about the Mormons.

After a few night time hours awaiting the bus in Idaho Falls, crossing and recrossing the Snake River, I arrived at Yellowstone ready for the tour. The brightest and most scintillating things about Yellowstone are its waterfalls and geysers. I saw the geyser Old Faithful. It spouts water once every hour, thus its name. The hot springs are sulfurous and smelly. Yellowstone is in the northwest corner of Wyoming. I spent the night in the tourist town of West Yellowstone, Montana.

Southern Utah and Colorado

The canyons and grotesque bluffs of Zion National Park made the ride through it an exciting one. We were not able to linger long enough to appreciate it as we would have liked. We hurried to the Coral Pink Sand Dunes. They were 11 miles off the main road. We came close to getting the car stuck in the sand, so we kept moving. Our next stop was Kanab, Utah, known as Little Hollywood. Many of the old westerns were filmed there. Lunch was pricey.

Southern Utah sports some weird terrain. The traveler almost expects to be confronted with dinosaurs. It is never dull. We stopped at Four Corners to look at the monument. This is the spot where four states touch: Arizona, New Mexico, Utah and Colorado. It is the only such place in the nation. People like to say they were in four states at once.

Mesa Verde National Park is in southern Colorado in a mountainous area 20 miles off the main drag. There are sites on which ruins of the Cliff Dwellers are found. The most famous and the one we explored is the Cliff Palace. It rests under a rock ledge. The descent is a precipitous one, and the Indians who lived there must have been in good condition. It was inhabited between the 7th and 13th centuries, when Europe was in its Middle Ages. The circular structures or kivas were used for religious purposes.

From Colorado, the west disappears rapidly. We saw Pike's Peak from a distance and the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. Pike's Peak is a mountain 14,110 feet high and not unlike the mountains of the east.

Jim Colyer
Originally written in 1980
to cover the trips of 1978 & 1979

Michael and I headed for the Giant Sequoias after landing at LAX. We drove to the town of Three Rivers by rented car. Three Rivers is on the west side of Sequoia National Park about 220 miles north of Los Angeles. We had a room reserved at the Comfort Inn, six miles from the Park entrance. We toured the Park, then drove back to Burbank.

Three Rivers is a resort town. It is to Sequoia Park as Gatlinburg is to the Smoky Mountains N. P. Michael drove us most of the way from L.A. into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada (Snowy Range). It was wave upon wave of beauty. I called it "God's country:" blue skies, green trees and white water. It was warm but not hot. I had forgotten how beautiful Sequoia is. It may be more satisfying than the Grand Canyon.

The Giant Sequoias are in the Sierra Nevada of California. The Giant Forest contains the largest trees in the world. It was named by John Muir. The General Sherman tree, largest of all, is found there. Other trees are named after George Washington and Robert E. Lee. Sequoia is the second oldest national park, established in 1890. It is administered by the National Park Service.

We entered the Park at Three Rivers. The three rivers are Kings, Kern and Kaweah (Kuh-we-a). The Kings River carved Kings Canyon. Michael got a picture of the Kaweah. 80% of the Park is wilderness.

Sequoias sprout from small seeds. Chemicals in their bark are resist insects and fungi. Sequoias usually die by toppling as they have a shallow root system.

Sequoias are evergreen. Their bark is up to 12 inches thick. Their crowns are conical. They live up to 3,500 years.

Sequoias are found only on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada, between 5,000 and 7,000 feet. There are 75 groves.

The Sierra Nevada stretches 400 miles. These mountains are called the High Sierras. They are 10 million years old.

Lakes in the Sierra Nevada were dug by glaciers. Mountains and canyons formed in granite. Granite forms when molten rock cools underground. It looks like salt and pepper because of its minerals: quartz, mica and feldspar.

There are a few glaciers in the park. Glaciers are rivers of ice. They form during long periods of cold weather. They carve valleys as they move slowly through the mountains.