Griddles and Slopes

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.

a family moment
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!

krumkake
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.

I'll be gnome for Christmas.
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.

snowshoeing at Sundance
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.

a flare for the dramatic
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.

a new year and new inches
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.

a new year at Solitude
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.

Mines and Missiles for the Malfunctioning

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.

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.

Yellow Cat
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.

historic holes
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
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.

Athena control center
The central blockhouse bunker at the Athena Launch Complex was constructed of concrete and buried in a hillside.
conduit boxes
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.

unprofitable scraps
Anything of value, like copper wiring, was plundered from the Green River Test Site decades ago.
junction dome
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!

blockhouse bunker
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
Pad 3 launched 49 missiles. More of its infrastructure is missing than the others.
Pad 2
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!

blast shield
Each launch pad had its own blast shield. The purpose of these one-walled oddities mystified us at first.
pad vault
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!

Pad 1
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!

TCEE grime
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.

From Scandinavia to the Nethers Part III: Skagen

Jutland, the only non-island portion of Denmark, connects the country to mainland Europe. Skagen sits on its tip, Denmark’s furthest point north. Skagen is both beautiful and abrasive with pristine white sand beaches and a roaming desert called the Råbjerg Mile, the largest moving sand dune in Europe. The Råbjerg Mile was formed during the 1500s and has been inching along for centuries at a pace of 50 feet per year engulfing landmarks and infrastructure in its path. In another 100 years, it will cover the road to Skagen. This unusual place was our last Danish sojourn.

Day 6

We set out in the morning in search of Det Grå Fyr, Skagen’s famous grey lighthouse. Instead, we ended up on North Beach at one of the town’s many other lighthouses, Skagen Fyr Vest (West Lighthouse). Why the plethora of lighthouses? The Skaw Spit, a sandy underwater feature that changes with currents and weather, makes the waters around Skagen particularly dangerous and in need of a legion of lighthouses apparently. Our confusion worked out alright for us though as we found piles of captivating rocks on that beach and hit Denmark’s most northern point.

The Gray Lighthouse
The Gray Lighthouse has been warning ships away from Skagen’s turbulent shores since 1858 and is still active.

Eventually, we did make it to Det Grå Fyr. Det Grå Fyr was built in 1858 and is Denmark’s second-tallest lighthouse at 131 feet. Visitors can take 208 steps to the top where they are greeted by impressive shoreline views and gusts.

Nazi holdouts
It was odd to find the vestiges of Nazi aggression on a quiet beach.

Next, we walked out to Grenen, a journey that requires about three miles of stepping round trip on a breezy beach. What is Grenen? Grenen is a sand bar north of Skagen where the North and Baltic Seas meet in a never-ending dramatic display of ramming waves and turbulent sprays. It was trippy to watch violent breakers coming from competing directions there.

coastal heathland
Grasses and shrubs pepper the expanses of sand on Skagen’s beaches.

The natural setting at Grenen, dominated by coastal grasses and silvery sands, is at odds with the austere relics from Nazi occupation during WWII dotting the shores, concrete bunkers. Some of these structures are now partially submerged as the sand supporting them has been leisurely crawling back to the sea over decades.

Grenen
At Grenen, waves collide from opposite directions.
sinking scraps
Although the Germans built their bunkers to withstand, many have slowly been succumbing to sea and sand.

Our last outing of the day was to the Den Tilsandede Kirke (Sand-Buried Church), originally called Saint Laurence after the patron saint of sailors. The 148-foot-long and 72-foot-high structure was built between 1355 and 1387 and abandoned in 1795. Why was it abandoned? The name should give a clue. The Råbjerg Mile, that traveling mass of sand, started to submerge the building around 1600. Every week the door would have to be dug out just so worshipers could enter. Eventually, this became an unmanageable task, and Skagen’s oldest building and once largest church was forsaken and left to its gritty demise. While the structure was later largely demolished, the foundation, floor, alter, baptismal font, nine feet of the walls, and cemetery wall remain underearth along with all the cemetery’s headstones. I guess even God is beholden to nature. This discarded house of worship inspired the Hans Christian Andersen tale A Story from the Dunes.

The Sand-Buried Church
The whitewashed tower of the Sand-Buried Church is all that remains above ground.

That evening, we had a lovely dinner at Café & Restaurant Kokkenes. We laughed over childhood memories and recent vacation recollections while indulging on fish soup and orange sorbet. It was a satisfying end to our last night in Denmark.

Day 7

The next morning, we went on a rushed quest in the rain on the shores of the North Sea for lucky adder stones. Adder stones are rocks with naturally occurring holes in them. In ancient times, they were believed to be made from the hardened saliva of serpents (hence the name adder) and have magical properties. For some reason, there are a larger than normal quantity of them on the beaches around Skagen. After only a few minutes of searching, Jason got particularly good at spotting them. He found seven total and our niece located one. I found nothing. Good thing my husband believes sharing is caring.

After our hasty beach search, we departed for the Aalborg airport with a stop in the old center of the town. Though we were in a bit of a hurry, we enjoyed a walk around the Budolfi Church and the Helligåndsklostret (Aalborg Kloster), which was built in 1431. We also stopped in the Historiske Museum’s shop where we spent all our remaining kroners.

On a final Danish note, the pastries in Denmark were dependably the best we’ve had in Europe. Sorry France, you were inconsistent. Kobenhavner Tebirkes, which are comprised of a couple layers of laminated dough, a thin filling of marzipan, and a generous topping of poppy seeds were my favorite. Yum!

Amsterdam, our last destination, will be the final focus of this long-worded journey through our European exploits.