Jason and I had a companion airline ticket we needed to use before March, and we thought we might as well use those big savings to travel to one of the most expensive places on earth, Disneyland. You’ve got to blow a lot of money to use a free airline ticket; everyone knows that. This trip began with some anxiety and ended that way too, but the in between parts were more pleasant and included transportation to another galaxy along with opportunities to consume mass quantities of corn dogs, beignets, and bacon skewers. Here are all the deets on the good, the bad, and the pricey.
The alcove devoted to the Millennium Falcon is epic.
As suggested in the previous paragraph, panic preceded our vacation. The day before we left, I had an allergic reaction to a fragrance or some other airborne compound at the hairdresser. Just like that, I had cold symptoms. At first, I assumed an allergy was the culprit because of the instant onset, but as my issues continued to persist all day, I began to suspect illness. Boo! You have to remember, exhibiting cold symptoms of any kind in public was still very unpopular at this point, so I was not keen on trying to navigate those in busy parks. Plus, a COVID test would be necessary to confirm I wouldn’t be passing the most undesirable germs onto others as I screamed in terror on Pinocchio’s Daring Ride. I was displeased and stressed about the potential complications and/or halting of our trip. However, right before I went to bed, my reaction turned off as quickly as it had turned on. Phew! That was the first bout of anxiety associated with this retreat, but it was not the last.
As soon as my SLR camera came out, so did the stormtroopers.Within the Black Spire Outpost, up is as fascinating a direction as any other.
That brings me to our time in the park. Why Disneyland in January? Mid-January is supposed to be one of the most uncrowded times of the year at Disney parks. I don’t know what is typical for Disneyland these days, but I certainly wouldn’t call what we experienced uncrowded. Not insane would be a more accurate description.
Coolest Coke bottles ever!
The weather also wasn’t what we were anticipating as it was much colder than the times we’ve gone in December. The reason for that chill? A cyclone bomb had just come through the area. Apparently, that is a fast-developing storm that forms because of a sudden drop in pressure. The associated rain ended right as we arrived and started again the afternoon we left, so I guess we missed that at least. Conditions were agreeable during the day with pants and a jacket or two, but evenings required three jackets at least, and we would still come back to our room freezing. The temperatures did get warmer each succeeding day. By the end, we couldn’t see our breath anymore at night. Yeah!
For a substantial amount of money, you can make a hefty lightsaber.At Galaxy’s Edge, everything you see deserves a second look.
So, masses and temperatures weren’t as predicted. What was? Our delight over our first taste of a galaxy far, far away at Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge was certainly unsurprising. (How could you not see that coming?) I loved all the layers, interactions, and details. We built our own posh lightsabers at Savi’s Workshop, sipped on the blue and green milk, and dined at Ronto Roasters. FYI, the Ronto-less Garden Wrap is much better than the Ronto Wrap.
Mechanical curiosities abound in periphery settlements.
Our other Disney firsts were kind of the opposite of exciting. Sometimes you have to work hard to be amused, and it’s just too much effort. The next day, California Adventure bored us somewhat because most of the rides had such long lines. We weren’t willing to wait 60-90 minutes for each one. There wasn’t that much else to do, and there wasn’t much else to eat. Hence, being diverted became a burden. We found the new Avengers Campus satisfying, but not nearly as intriguing as Galaxy’s Edge. I believe this was the first and only time we’ve felt unentertained at a Disney theme park. When California Adventure closed, we skipped over to Disneyland thinking we’d just stay there for an hour. We stayed the rest of the night.
Space penguin or space pigeon?Mr. Toad and I have a complicated relationship.
Disneyland occupied our last day in California. Most of that period passed in the usual park fashion. However, that evening we got stuck on the Indiana Jones Adventure right below the dangling Indiana due to one of the vehicles ahead malfunctioning. It was weird and cool to see the climax of the ride with the lights on. (FYI, the big rock is on a track.) It was less cool to have a panic attack because I had no control over how long I was going to be belted inside a cursed temple. It took 20-30 minutes for our off-road vehicle to become on again.
Disneyland’s new Genie+ service includes as many PhotoPass digital photos as you can stand to stand in line for.
Overall, our vacation was a nice but exhausting break from the snows of January that sometimes oscillated between the extremes of dullness and panic. While it was fun to see the parks’ new areas, I don’t think I need to go back for a year or three.
If you must get stuck on a ride, this ain’t too bad a place.
On a final note, Disney excels at courteous, friendly service. Their parks are impeccably clean considering the number of people visiting. The downside? Paying nearly $5 for a bottle of water and a lot more for anything else. Want to ride the new Star Wars attraction, Rise of the Resistance? You can’t use a Lightning Lane Pass, at least you couldn’t when we visited. Instead, you will need to pay an additional $25/ticket to skip the regular line. Simply put, expect to spend more than you expect, and the parks will meet your expectations.
For many years, I’ve been saying that the holidays get too busy for us, as they do for many, which tends to make them stressful. Last Christmas was typical in that regard. Admittedly, a significant portion of this commotion was self-inflicted between ambitious gift making and outdoor mania. That brings me to the unusual aspects of our holidays, those caused by uncommon footwear. In mid-September, I was booted due to a fractured foot. When Christmas hit, I wasn’t wearing the boot anymore, but I also wasn’t able to do much because of a hefty number of remaining activity restrictions. That all changed during the break… and then quickly changed back. Here’s a bunch of bits about our Christmas and how a boot, rather than stockings, dictated its outlooks and outcomes.
Before I get carried away on the subject of foot attire, let’s discuss gift making. Both my family and Jason’s drew names for Christmas way too late last year. Then, I decided to take on three projects for my recipient, my mom. One project was a scrapbook, another a custom slideshow, and the last a feast of nostalgic foods I’d never attempted to cook before. All these handmade items had to do with Scandinavia, either our recent trip to Denmark or family memories of Christmas dinners with a close Norwegian friend from decades before. Tasty and tender, that’s what I’m all about.
Family togetherness is an essential element of the holidays.
Krumkake, a Norwegian waffle cookie that is often filled with flavored whipped cream, was culinary experiment number one. Krumkake was a staple at our Norwegian Christmas feasts when I was a teenager. It requires a special rotating griddle to make. Thus, I was intimidated. However, it was easier to successfully krum the kakes than expected. It only took Jason and me roughly an hour and a half to make about two dozen. Unfortunately, that hour and a half was from 1:00 to 2:30 in the morning.
Christmas rice pudding with cherry sauce, a Danish holiday special, was another dish we aimed to make for my mom. Some of the aspects of this recipe are unusual. Yet, our first trial attempt turned out perfect, to our surprise. However, when we made it on Christmas Eve, this time for my family, the result was less ideal. It didn’t set up properly and remained runny. After all that work, we didn’t want to serve something subpar. As we didn’t have the time or ingredients to make another batch, we scrapped the pudding. Frowny face emoji!
Whether you are Scandinavian or not, I’d recommend the delicious tradition of krumkake.
That wasn’t the only cooking concentrated around our Christmas. Between krumkake, rice pudding, Amish breakfast casserole, bean with bacon soup, and cheddar-chive biscuits, most of our Christmas was spent in the kitchen, excluding a six-hour break to visit with my family. Eating it all was pretty nice though.
Somehow, we were ahead on the wrapping front and didn’t need to do much of that last-minute standard on Christmas Eve. Besides cooking, we just had to complete an activity charades video for our nieces and nephews illustrating the outing options they could pick between for their Christmas present.
Amidst the whirl of giving and baking, crafts were constructed.
The wrapping may have been under control, but with all projects considered, we didn’t get a chance to open our presents to each other until a few minutes before Christmas was over, as usual. My gifts from Jason were treasure themed. They included a pirate coin from 1659, a cosplay dagger and cutlass, and an enigmatic package from the Mysterious Package Company.
Sundance has a delightful Nordic center with trails in the shadow of Mount Timpanogos.
The whirlwind of thoughtful gift and food creation left me frazzled and exhausted, but some of our seasonal endeavors were more relaxing. We invited my sister’s family to make gingerbread houses with us a few days before Christmas. On Christmas Eve, we took a brief respite to play Uno with penalties with that same sister’s crew. During our holiday break, we spent an afternoon with Jason’s grandma putting a seasonal puzzle together and eating British chocolate. Puzzles were a favorite of hers, and she passed away just months later. Some endeavors deserve our time even when time is what we have the least to offer.
As an extra bonus, Solitude had a torchlight parade and fireworks on New Year’s Eve to celebrate.
A couple days after Christmas, we took a nephew to the zoo. He had so much fun he cried for 20 minutes when we put him in the car to come home and started wailing again when we reached his street. Apparently, he continued to bawl for an hour and a half after we dropped him off. Hopefully, next time less tears will be involved.
The family togetherness did eventually get halted by two things: 1. Another nephew gave a load of people in my family the flu, so some missed the Christmas day gathering and were unavailable for most of Christmas break. 2. I got doctor approval to commence snowboarding a few days after Christmas. Jason and I wasted no time and were headed to Solitude within 45 minutes of that authorization.
Fresh powder for a fresh year.
Like an exuberant snowball hurtling down the mountain, we picked up more and more slope momentum. The two of us went snowshoeing the next day at Sundance. We crunched through branches of trees stretched low with a hefty burden of powder. It was enchanting! Though the hillsides were a fluffy delight, we only saw a few groups on the trail. It was peaceful and healing, especially after the months of boot-driven sedentariness. The next day, we went snowboarding again at Snowbasin. I know that’s a heap of mountain resorts in a short period, but I was way too excited about exchanging my walking boot for other types of boots to waste another second anywhere but outside.
And then, at the last minute, we got a place at Solitude for New Year’s Eve. Since many in my family were currently sick with the flu, spending the evening eating Brussels sprouts at the Honeycomb Grill and playing Seven Wonders Duel in a condo wasn’t much of a sacrifice. The 18 inches in 24 hours topping the multiple feet that had collected over consecutive stormy days made it even less so.
Snowboarding was an essential piece of our seasonal joy.
We boarded from 9:30 to 4:00 with only a 45-minute snack intermission; we didn’t want to stop for lunch. Our nephew joined us in the afternoon via the bus. That’s when my knee problem started. What knee problem you ask? Oh, you know, having your knee so swollen you can barely walk up or down the stairs, etc. That boot-induced issue, which turned out to be aggravation in my lateral meniscus, snatched exercise away shortly after its brief return. As I try to limit my posts to less than 20,000 words, the details of that misbehaving knob will be covered at some later point.
Our Christmas break passed in a flash, a flash packed with family, outdoor, and culinary enterprises. It was stressful, memorable, delicious, beautiful, hectic, and exhilarating. In a lot of ways, it was just what holidays should be… and then there was the boot.
Moab has long been one of our favorite places to hike and bike. What if hiking and biking weren’t an option? Would it still be a favorite? Read below, and you will know.
Before I can tell our story of visiting Moab last November, I need to go further back in time to when I found out my talus bone was fractured on my right ankle, and I had an associated bone lesion. By the way, this fracture happened six months before I became aware of it. (Why yes, I do have an exceptionally high pain tolerance. Why do you ask?). I had been wearing a walking boot for six weeks prior to our Moab excursion due to that discovery. My doctor originally told me I’d likely be able to ditch the boot after a month, but I was still in pain at that point, so the boot remained.
When we first learned that I’d still be dealing with ankle limitations in Moab, we almost canceled our trip. Wouldn’t it be sad to be there and not participate in our usual activities? Eventually, we concluded being in Moab is never sad though we’d have to be creative about ways to occupy ourselves. Luckily, our trip happened to fall right when my doctor said I could try taking the boot off again for a couple days and ascertain pain levels, though I was not supposed to do anything but normal walking during that interval. We decided a short, easy hike would be close enough to “normal walking” to be acceptable, and that’s how we ended up on the Pinyon Interpretive Loop.
The Pinyon Interpretive Loop only gains 68 feet making it a perfect trail for the recently bootless to test their calf prowess.
The Pinyon Interpretive Loop, just one mile, tells of the desert’s creative and symbiotic survivors including the pinyon jay, the pinyon mouse, biological soil crust (cryptobiotic soil)… and me. Okay, maybe there wasn’t a sign about me, but that day I felt like there should be. We took this trail unhurriedly for my ankle as it was my first nonessential walking in over six weeks and my first time without a boot for that long as well. It was an absolute delight! Forty-two degrees felt warmer than expected between the radiating rock, sunny skies, and lack of wind. Frankly, I would have found a blizzard acceptable.
Later that day, we investigated some history and rocks by visiting the Yellow Cat Mining District just north of Arches and searching for agate and jasper nearby. Online, we’d read accounts of the road to Yellow Cat being rough. It is not. I’m sure if you jumped on one of the route’s many offshoots you would be in for a rougher ride. However, the main path is appropriate for almost any vehicle.
In 2002, 171 openings in the Yellow Cat Mining District were closed as part of the Abandoned Mine Reclamation Program while the historical appearance of these portals was largely retained.
The extraction of radioactive ores (uranium and vanadium) at the Yellow Cat Mining District began in the early 1900s and ceased in the mid-1960s. The area was placed in the Grand County Register of Historic Places in 1998 due to its significance. While we didn’t have enough daylight to fully explore all the mines’ leftover structures, machineries, and crevices, we checked out a two-story building, the hillsides’ many adit openings, and the remnants of some ancient vehicles. We noticed many vent pipes dotting the landscape, a testament to just how far and plentiful the network of tunnels extended in the region.
Of the district’s many mine sites, 27 of those at Yellow Cat were eligible for nomination on the National Register of Historic Places.
When daylight began to dim, we commenced rockhounding operations without further delay. As we are not serious enough rockhounds to be particularly picky about specimens, we found some agate and jasper we were thrilled over with about half an hour of searching.
The next day, the high was just 41 degrees, yet we were undeterred. We did a mild, self-guided walking tour around the historic center of town as a compromise for my ankle, which was about 0.75 miles. On that we made thirteen stops to view structures like Star Hall, which was built in 1906 and is on the National Register of Historic Places, the Neals Olson Home, and the Old Courthouse and Jail Building. Most of these were constructed between the mid-1880s and the first decade of the 1900s, with a few newer outliers. The stroll was a fantastic way to slow down and appreciate noteworthy structures we may not have fully noticed before.
Hurrah Pass separates Kane Creek Canyon from the Colorado River Canyon at an elevation of 4,780 feet.
Since my feet couldn’t take me far, later that day we relied on a vehicle. We did the T-Rex 4×4 U-Drive Experience to Hurrah Pass tour. With an elevation of 4,780 feet, Hurrah Pass divides the Colorado River from Kane Springs Canyon. As the name of this tour suggests, we got to drive. Well, Jason got to drive as I didn’t want to with a weak peddle foot.
To get to Hurrah Pass, you take Kane Springs Road until it becomes Hurrah Pass Road. Then, you head up through the Moenkopi Formation, followed by Navajo Sandstone, and finally the Wingate Formation to the pass’ apex. The whole trip from Moab is around 30 miles, but the last section starting at Hurrah Pass Road is the only tricky bit. That concluding part is not terribly technical. However, it rides along cliffs with the base of Kane Springs Canyon hundreds of feet below, so a problem with heights is the main problem. I just had to advert my eyes. We had done some of this route before, but we were in new territory beyond Hunter Canyon.
From Hurrah Pass, potash evaporation ponds, Canyonlands National Park, Dead Horse Point State Park, and Kane Creek Canyon all surround you. It isn’t as scenic as some places around Moab but still impressive.
The central blockhouse bunker at the Athena Launch Complex was constructed of concrete and buried in a hillside.These may look like some sort of crazy conveyor belt system, but they were above-ground conduit boxes that connected each launch pad to the control center.
On our way home the next day, we made two stops of discovery. The first was the Athena Launch Complex that was part of the Utah Launch Complex near Green River (also called the Green River Test Site). This Cold War-era compound became active in 1962 as part of the Air Force’s program to test its Advanced Ballistic Re-entry System (ABRES). It was used by the Air Force until 1973. During that time, 141 Athena missiles were fired. The Army also used the site starting in 1971 to test their nuclear-capable Pershing missile. Their operations halted in 1975 after the launch of 61 missiles. After employing hundreds of Green River residents for nearly two decades, the complex was decommissioned in 1979. We learned this information following our visit. Hence, we knew little about what the site was used for or what we would find as we explored it. Would you like to know what you can find? Then, read on.
Anything of value, like copper wiring, was plundered from the Green River Test Site decades ago.The site contains tunnels that go straight into the ground. These are housed in metal and accessed with ladders. They once served as junction domes.
You can freely wander this site’s three launch pads and other assorted structures. The high fences and bright lights that once deterred the unwanted are now warped and broken. We spent hours examining the equipment and buildings trying to figure out what we were looking at. It definitely satiated our curiosity craving!
The inside of the central blockhouse bunker, while a mess, still holds tidbits of interest.
The repetition of the site’s three launch pads allowed us to gradually piece together purpose and design. Portions missing on one endured on others. The TCEE tracks were gone on Pad 3, the first one we encountered. We thought we might be looking at a helicopter pad, but the grooves that seemed like they once held some sort of rail line confused me. Pad 2, our second pad, still had its rails. So, I realized I was right about there once being tracks. Pad 1, the most intact pad, was the last one we visited. After we had puzzled over and imagined how things worked on the other two, it was gratifying to see a much more complete TCEE (Temperature Controlled Environmental Enclosures) system.
Pad 3 launched 49 missiles. More of its infrastructure is missing than the others.Pad 2 had 41 launches. Sections of its gantry still remain.
Other mysteries didn’t entirely get solved until following our outing. The first pad we inspected had a building nearby with only one wall standing. We thought the other three might have just fallen down until we came across another of the same type of structure at the next pad. But why buildings with only one wall? They appeared to have HVAC components in them. We were puzzled. It was only after some online research that we ascertained ultra-high quality (UHQ) blast shields were used to protect cooling ducts at each launch pad. That’s why those edifices only had walls on one side; they were blast shields. Duh!
Each launch pad had its own blast shield. The purpose of these one-walled oddities mystified us at first.Each pad included a concrete ring. These vaults served as part of the gantry platform and allowed for venting.
The gantry equipment used as scaffolding around the missiles, some of which was lying around Pad 2, also perplexed us. We had no idea what it was and thought it might have slid on the tracks running along the concrete, but it seemed too long to do so. This was another enigma internet information elucidated. Historical puzzles are a blast!
Missiles were loaded onto the launch pads from buildings on rails called Temperature Controlled Environment Enclosures or TCEE. These were rolled away before launch.
After that enthralling afternoon, we visited the Prehistoric Museum in Price. We’d passed this museum countless times going to Moab. It had always intrigued us, but we had never taken the time to stop. We arrived there one hour and 20 minutes before closing. While we were told the average person spends 45 minutes to an hour at the museum, I am not the average museum guest. I didn’t even make it through one of its two wings, but we did hurry through most of the Horns and Tusks section, the museum’s current temporary exhibit, shortly before closing. It covered the outlandish and whacky evolution of frills, tusks, antlers, horns, and other headgear. Cool!
Nearly 50 years of desert exposure has given every surface of the only remaining TCEE a thick and crusty layer of muck.
I loved that this museum focuses on Utah from the beginnings of the Earth and includes many rock and fossil specimens specifically from the state. Jason and I will certainly be heading back to check out what we missed.
The verdict on Moab sans hiking and biking? A broken foot can halt certain activities, but it can’t halt adventure. Our Moab trip was atypical in pastimes but typical in that we had an amazing stay.
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