Canyon lands to Rockies

OK, it's a new contributor this time around, as Dev has taken on an editorial role only. I'll try to match her wordsmanship.

Big is best!

My brother recently told me that his baby daughter put on 12 ounces in a week. An incredible statistic to the starved people of Europe no doubt, but having spent the last month putting on a similar amount over breakfast each day, I shrugged it off disinterestedly. Last night was the first time we've been served a normal sized portion of food (i.e. one that doesn't require stomach surgery to finish). We were so overjoyed we immediately ordered ice cream for pudding. As such, we heartily recommend the cajun cuisine of 'Crave' in Crested Butte (pronounced 'beaut' to anyone sniggering) in the heart of skiing country in the Rockies. If I were a winter sports nut I would definitely head to Colorado.

For summer folk, Colorado is also a great place to come. A very nice chap from Kansas called 'Randy' - I thought it was a name you only found in movies, too - directed us towards a sensational hike up to the peak of Courthouse Mountain (12,152 ft) where a 360 degree view affords clear vistas south and west to Utah and north and east further into the mountains.

Canyons!

The 'big' theme continued when we entered Utah and stayed at Zion and Bryce (above right) National Parks. These are the first two 'steps' down which culminate in the Grand Canyon (above left) in Arizona. All three are amazing and were forged not by glaciers like Yosemite valley, but by the gradual erosive force of rivers and weather. A huge fire started by a lightning strike meant that most of the backcountry of Zion was closed off to visitors. It was still raging after five days. It doesn't take much to escape the tour buses and plump families. If you're willing to hike up some steep trails, it's worth the effort. The Emerald Pools at Zion, the 'Peekaboo' trail at Bryce and the descent (and lung-busting ascent) to the depths of the Grand Canyon weren't overrun by grockles.

The motor car - an American obsession

Other strange Bigness relates to the American obsession with enormous vehicles. The zealous residents of the borough of Richmond, who have welcomed the increased tax on 4x4s, would look agog at the vast behemoths that cruise the highways of the US. In 4 weeks we have seen only two hatchbacks. True, the roads are bigger and the streets wider in cities, but the sight of an RV towing a boat and an SUV beggars belief. The square footage of living space in those things is about double your average Tooting two-bedroomer.

The Chevvy

See attached photo of a car fit for the cannonball run, which goes from nought to sixty in about 2.5 minutes, does roughly ten miles to the gallon, and gives off the same amount of emissions as Sweden does in a year. Wait - that's not fair. She's a trusted companion who is yet to let us down. Although, I'm a bit nervous that the dashboard keeps telling me to 'change oil soon'. A further delight is that it bleeps at you for failing to do just about anything - there's no escaping the nanny state. That said, I love her. If only she weren't an automatic...

Navajo Country

I'm currently reading 'Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee', an Indian account of the history of the American West, 1860-90. It's a one-sided account for sure, but what is clear is the litany of broken treaties that effectively robbed all Indian tribes of their land (principally for gold, other metals and minerals and for white settlers to farm the land) and relocated them into reservations in the crappiest land available. We passed through the Navajo reservation in Arizona and one thing that immediately becomes apparent is the poverty of its inhabitants. Sure, Monument Valley is stunning and our Navajo guide, Dan, was great, but he seemed very sad that the current generation is reluctant to learn the native language and is slowly leaving the reservation in search of jobs. He can see his heritage ebbing away.

Monument Valley

We've all seen the westerns - Clint Eastwood having a hairy time in 'The Geiger somethingorother' and John Wayne doing stuff like taking 'em to Missouri, but the buttes of sandstone are staggering in their size and beauty. We were followed through the desert by an angry lightning storm, which produced an amazing matinee and evening show for us. When it was over, I seemed to have gained a fiance and lost the family diamonds. It's strange how you get swept away by the moment.

Wildlife

OK - a quick resume for you.

Skunk (do not approach from behind), raccoons, chipmunks, chikadees, Kaibab squirrel, the rump and tail of a mountain lion (or so Dev says), beavers (they were busy), humming birds, hawks, woodpeckers, a rattlesnake (do not prod with a stick, Dev) and lots of other stuff too. I'm hoping to 'bag' a bear (black or Grizzly, I'm not fussy) and a Buffalo in Yellowstone. Which is where we're headed next. And then to Grand Teton and the Snake River Country.

Hope you're all still on dry land.

Pip pip for now!

Week two - the extremes of the US

What an amazing country this is. You can almost start to appreciate why so few Americans hold passports when you're here. There really is something for everyone. In a matter of a week, we've gone from breathtaking (literally at 10,000 ft) wilderness in the Sierra Nevada to the Disney-on-speed excess of Vegas, via Death Valley.

Here's a little potted history of the last week or so.

The Sierra Nevada

The Big Man wanted to see Big Trees, so Sequoia Natural Park - home to the General Sherman Sequoia tree (the largest living thing on the planet) seemed like a natural place to go.

Al had his heart set on the Mineral King area. The 26-mile road leading to this part of Sequoia has 968 bends (or curves, as the Americans call them in the mother of all understatements) and takes 1.5 hours to drive. As a result, most people stick to the main drag, in so doing, missing out on some truly spectacular back country. Our camping spot was next to a mountain stream at 7,500 ft, complete with fire ring (on which you cook), a picnic table and a bear safe. This is effectively a large metal box into which you are obliged to store all food and anything else with a scent (news to me - bears have a penchant for soap). You can't leave it in your car, as bears can use their claws to peel apart your motor like you or I would open a can of beans.

Sadly (no, perhaps gladly, given the fact above) we have seen no sud-loving bears yet, but plenty of other wildlife. Our favourites so far have been the chickadees. Not just a term of endearment, but also a critter than looks much like a small stripy squirrel. Perhaps we could keep some in our new garden in Cheltenham? We've also met marmots (not as sweet as they sound - as you sit admiring a marmot mum and her babes, her relative is likely to be under your bonnet chewing through your electrics, or perhaps your brake cables). We also met an inquisitive chipmunk while we ate our lunch beside an eerily silent mountain lake at 10,000ft.

At this elevation, a mild incline makes you puff as your body calls out for more oxygen. Our two 8-9 mile hikes while we were in Mineral King certainly counteracted the artery-clogging breakfasts we've been enjoying (of which more later). However, the wide views of the Sierra Nevada from that altitude are truly worth the screaming lungs.

We were more than ready for a motel by the time we left the Sierra Nevada and after 8 nights camping. US campsites are pretty amazing - most have showers and proper 'rest rooms', though in our last three nights in the mountains, we were reliant on our mountain stream for showers - more refreshing than effective. As a result, by the time we rolled into Vegas - via Death Valley - we were pretty stinky. Al was sporting a fine Californian-style beard (do they love their facial hair), and I was looking decidedly grimy and - let's face it - a bit Beth Ditto in the underarm department.

Death Valley

So, we'd seen the largest living thing on the planet, now for the hottest place on earth - Death Valley. After an early start from our camp spot in the southern Sierra Nevada, we hit Death Valley pretty much at midday. Talk about mad dogs and Englishmen, though even the hounds had more sense than this.

Like so much US scenery, Death Valley is massive and spectacular. Unbelievable that those white settlers who stumbled through in 1849 ever made it out. We stepped out of the car at 117 degrees F (about 46deg C) and it was like a hair dryer. Further on, the car thermometer registered 124deg F. After about an hour's drive through the valley, which no other visible living thing save your fellow crazy English visitors, it begins to weigh down on you. Will we ever get out of here? Will the chevy make it? After 2 hours driving through mile after mile of this arid salt-encrusted landscape, we were glad to be finally climbing up out of the valley and to see the thermometer drop.

Glad we went, glad we didn't have to stay any longer.

To Vegas!

What can I write about Vegas that hasn't already been said? You have to see it to believe it. 110 deg F, more fake titties than I've ever seen and 'hotels' the size of Euro-Disney.

We leave $120 richer between the two of us, having had a cracking night out at New York New York casino with some new-found Georgian friends, BeeBee, Matthew and Huntley. Love the names, guys, love the accents more. Thanks, Ezequiel, our Mexican croupier, for our happy lucky evening.

So, off back for a dose of wilderness to purge our bodies of the toxic artificialities and excess of Vegas (free drinks - good but bad, yeah?).

Breakfast deserves a separate posting - too big to put down here, so will end this for now.

Hope UK is happy and, dare I hope, sunny? Let's hope they've got it right about the forecast for 14th so you guys get some sun.

People from British do San Fran and Monterey

So, one week already gone, and quickly too. America, it's portion sizes, scenery and people are bigger thank we could have imagined. We're currently surviving (well) on two meals a day.

3 days in San Fran (we first went to bed 24hours after getting up, so hit jetlag on the head pretty easily). It's an interesting city of contrasts - our first day in broad sunshine to enjoy the gravity-defying city, the remainder mostly in the famous fog. Contrasts too in affluence and poverty - we enviously eyed up the palaces of Pacific Heights with their manicured lawns, but had to step over countless bums, homeless people and their 'shopping cart' homes. A bit of a shock, really, in the land of the free and opportunity.

By day three we were itching to get out of the city, and made our way down Route 1 to Monterey - the road trip begins! Some classic tunes on the car stereo thanks to all of you who have provided ideas and CDs. We most definitely like Pina Colada and getting caught in the rain.

And after four nights in the big outdoors, Al and Dev are now officially Happy Campers. Mostly getting good nights sleep under canvas, though rowdy raccoons have distubed our last two nights' sleep. Little bastards seem to have a penchant for ice, and noisily crunched their way through a half a bag of ice cubes we'd left out. Let's hope the bears don't like ice.

Stars of Monterey have definitely been the sea otters - thanks Liz for that tip - could have watched them all day. Also Big Sur, which we did yesterday- jaw-dropping scenery. The Pacific, like so many other things here, is massive.

I can't really do this justice in words, so will try and post some pictures next time I write.

From now, we're off to Sequoia National Park - home of big trees, mountains and bears. And just to ensure we appreciate the contrasts of this place fully, we'll follow that up with Vegas. Bring it on.

So, I'll leave you with some wise words of one of our fellow campers to Al last night:
"So, are you guys from British?"

Well, kind of.

Tara for now.