Colorado by Bob Pflanz

When I first stated camping in the Rockies, I was taking a minimum of items and sleeping in a pup tent on the ground with a bed roll all of which I could pack in my Jeep and wander about in the high rockies without coming down to civilization for days on end. As the years passed on, I still kept the Jeep but hauled a popup tent which kept me camping in federal campgrounds or on BLM land near some kind of road. Later, I upgraded to a small trailer which actually had a stove and a cooler and a bed of sorts. Now that the years have passed, I find myself “camping” in an Airstream 24' trailer with a heater and a refrigerator and lights. It's not the same, but my body now isn't as nimble as it was when I used to hike and ski and it appreciates the comforts.

I just returned from the central Rockies (the Collegiate Peaks) where I camped with my sisters, their husbands and my daughter from New Mexico. It was a civilized camping trip but we did get back in the woods and over some of the passes and into the high country. We camped at 8,000 feet but wandered over county roads and jeep trails up to elevations of 12,000 feet and saw some beautiful country. With the advent of digital photography, it's hard to not take pictures at will with accumulations of hundreds of photos. I will share a few of the better ones to give you an idea of how beautiful it is. So far, the central part of Colorado has not gotten carried away with development but it has changed some in the past 40 years. I miss the remoteness that once existed. You could feel that it was just you and the mountains and the sky with nobody for miles. Now homes are being added to the most remote places. Luckily much of the land is still public and no development can intrude.

It was nice, but it was cold and breathtaking. It's nice to be back home with fond memories.

Photos from Claudine of Grand Canyon raft trip

A reply to Harriet from Claudine

Hi Harriet:

Enjoyed very much reading your summary of your summer, travels and accompanying events. Sorry about the death of one of your canine best buddies.

Rodney and I had two Golden Retrievers (one at at time) each of whom lived 13 years. They had a devoted owner, walker, and care giver--(that would be Rodney) and I heard him on the phone shortly after the first Golden's death--Gus-- "But Mom, you do not understand, I have lost my best friend."" Guess that about says it all. Bert, the second then broke his heart by going to dog heaven at age 13 and no more pets. It is too hard to lose them.

Loved reading of your travel adventures. I believe you keep moving or you sit down and there you stay.

Sorry about your knee. It it the age group. Most everyoneof our age has had on or both fixed or replaced, or is putting it off (me).

We had an ex Stanford basketball player on the rafting trip. A gentle and graceful giant who could play one heck of a hand of hearts. She beat everyone.

As for 1959, it probably was indeed a watershed never mind as Bob pointed out the author missed a lot of what made the year.

Please stay in touch and let us hear of your further travels.

Good healing

Claudine

A note from Claudine - Pictures to follow later

September 13, 2009

Hi Bob:

Here is a short report and a few photos from the Grand Canyon rafting trip I took the first week in September.

The rafting trip was six days and 187 miles down the Colorado River from Lee’s Ferry in Marble Canyon to the Whitmore Helipad right below Lava Falls at mile 187. The helicopter pad was about the size of a king size bed and the helicopter was tiny, holding only 5 passengers at a time. But at that point I would have hung from a rope ladder out to find my way to a flush toilet.

The rafting and rapids were unforgettable. The Canyon scenery was beautiful, wondrous and awe inspiring. The rapids were thrilling, exciting and sometimes scary. The rapids are rated from one to 10. We went through several 10’s and 8’s. Two of the tens, Lava Falls and Tanner rapids had drops of 14’ and 20’ respectively. An awesome adventure as the teenagers would say. The overnight/camping arrangements were very basic, but, unfortunately, part and parcel of the adventure.

Our outfitter was the Arizona River Runners. We were 21 passengers in two motorized rafts. The rafts normally hold 17 but because of the bad tourist year were had only 10 and 11 per raft for our trip. We followed one another taking the rapids one raft at a time, and seldom saw other rafts in that the Park Service allows only four commercial and three private launchings each day.

John and I and two other passengers were the oldest by about 10 years. Most passengers were in their early to late 50’s with two couples in their 40’s. Those 10 years really make a difference. If any of you have thoughts about going on one of these trips do it now. The trip is strenuous in parts and requires a good deal of strength and a lot of balance. I have lost a great deal of both in the last few years and so just managed to struggle through, awkwardly most of the time. (It is back to the Gym for me).

I can live without Camping period, but camping was the only way to experience this river and the Canyon. The camping was bare bones. Passengers loaded and unloaded the rafts, we slept under the stars without tents on difficult to assemble cots, and in very close quarters as there is very little flat space at the bottom of the Canyon. We were awakened at 5:30 AM for coffee and were underway by 7:00 AM whereupon the two male Scots began their second breakfast of Budweiser having allotted themselves 10 per day. But, they certainly held their liquor well and could bounce around the rafts like youngsters.

Skimmed over ever so slightly in the brochure were the toilet arrangements. For the ladies it was a real challenge and one became preoccupied with finding an appropriate place to take a whiz. The Park Service rules forbid urinating on sand (wet or otherwise) or any shrubbery etc. One must be IN the water which is 50 degrees. And one desires a shrub of some sort for privacy from the rafts and the gentlemen and shrubs are few, and one needed a path of sorts through the boulders to reach the water, a place where the water is not too swift etc. etc. So, each time we stopped, the hunt for an appropriate river latrine began in earnest. We became less and less modest as the trip went on, but nothing as bad as the men who got to the point they would whip it out no matter right by where the rafts were moored never mind who was standing by. Nighttime was treacherous as the boulders between the cots and the river were often sharp and the footholds very slippery. I took some big chunks of skin out of my arm one night trying to abide by the Park Service rules.

Solid waste was taken care of by a milk can of sorts placed in the woods. There are photographs attached.

I have only one photo of our raft going through rapids. One of the Scots on the other raft took it with my throwaway camera I had given him at the AM camp departure. You cannot take photographs of the rapids because you are holding on for dear life with both hands lest you pivot and tear out an arm socket. I do have a photo taken a few weeks previous to our trip by an Arizona River Runner passenger and made available to us. This is exactly how it looked and felt.

So, if you have ever considered going on one of these trips, do it next spring and you ladies do some strength and balance training in the meantime so that you can walk gracefully off the raft carrying your own belongings rather than half crawling and reaching for a hand to step off as I frequently had to.

But, do go. It is the adventure of a lifetime.

Your Classmate.
Claudine

1959 The Year Everything Changed

Spare yourself the agony of reading this alleged analysis of 1959 as a year of monumental change. If it was a boring as Fred Caplan makes it seem, then all of us would be brain-dead. Kaplan, who is really an arts and leisure writer, is hopefully adrift as any kind of historian, cultural or otherwise.

His artistic prejudice is evident from the time he spends on literature, art and music. He is preoccupied with the beat generation literature, jazz and Motown, the latter of which was really a 60's phenom.

Sports? No mention of any of that. Wasn't arguably the greatest NFL game ever played in 1959 in Baltimore?

We think of 1959 as the apex of Rock and Roll? Kaplan gives rock only two one line mentions. One of those is a passing reference to Buddy Holly, who was killed in 1959 and whose death was a watershed event that Kaplan treats with all the interest of a passing landscape.

Kaplan betrays his politics with a fawning, two paragraph tribute to our current leader - though, of course, Obama was not born until 1961. What the hell he's got to do with 1959 is anyone's guess. He managed to wait until page 5 of the book for this piece of indulgence.

But, in the final analysis, the book is a lazy attempt whose only spark is its title. And then, Kaplan struggles to keep that thread connected with an undiscilplined journey through the subjects that only interest him.

Season's Greetings from Harriet Benson

September 3, 2009
Season’s Greetings!

Which “season” you might ask. It’s meniscus season!

Here I sit recuperating from a knee operation. Immobility suggests I should write everyone now, during my recovery.

My father died three years ago (at a ripe old age—I hope I have his genes!). The years before that, I had focused several vacations on enjoying his company. Somewhat at a loss for a vacation destination, but with a desire to do something different in 2007, I went to Laramie, WY where I worked in the University of Wyoming Geology Dept for three months. I loved it! Geology, the people I met, and living in Wyoming during the summer.

Summer of 2008 I returned to that area—spending a week in Laramie—and enjoying Riverton’s balloon festival, traveling over the Bighorns where my grandfather had hunted many years ago, visiting friends in Bozeman, and finally staying in Kalispell where I could see Glacier/Waterton National Park again.
A lovely trip in all but one respect. As most of you know, when I travel by car, I take my dogs. Orthopedically challenged Barry and beloved Ben, who had been my soul mate over several bumps in life’s road over the past 11 years, began the trip with me. Ben, however, died unexpectedly from an idiosyncratic liver problem during the trip, which meant that my sightseeing included the offices of six veterinarians along the way.

As 2008 came to a close, I realized I wanted a new puppy to celebrate the holidays with me. And Bandit, another long-haired, black/tan doxie, came into Barry’s and my lives. Bandit is an adorable, joyful boy, and a great addition to my family.

My passion for Stanford women’s basketball continues undiminished. I was flattered to be the subject of an article in Women’s Basketball magazine in 2008 entitled “Super Fan”. Stanford played in the Final Four in Tampa in 2008 and again in St. Louis in 2009. Such excitement! I love to support these talented student athletes by attending as many games as possible, whether at home or away, and especially Final Fours. I’ve also been fortunate to continue friendships with a few of the graduated players. I’ll be vacationing with one of them this November; another has lived with me off and on over the last five years, now as a medical student.

The other college-age woman in my life is goddaughter Elena, who is now a sophomore at UC San Diego, planning to be involved in the environmental sciences. I enjoyed visiting her, my cousin Dave and his wife, two former Stanford basketball players, and all the painted cows (Elena with cow on right) in La Jolla.

Did you realize 1959 was the year our modern age began? Such is Fred Kaplan’s premise in his book 1959. Although he enumerates several significant events (at least in hindsight), I’m not convinced. It was, however, an important year: I graduated from Paseo High School then, fifty years ago. We had a lovely reunion in Kansas City this spring—wonderful memories and an opportunity to renew friendships. In addition to contact with those attending the reunion, I have been motivated to find two other classmates and one faculty member this summer. (In the process, I found a “lost” Wellesley classmate too!)

And it has been good to touch base with ALZA (especially at the 2008 reunion!) and non-ALZA friends.

My vacation this summer was low-key compared with the prior two summers in the Rockies. I drove to see my Aunt Jean in Eugene, OR. She is 95 years old; although totally deaf and somewhat crippled with sciatic pain, she lives alone and does very well.—good genes there too! We had a nice visit, and I enjoyed seeing Crater Lake again, but my return was clouded with news that her son, my cousin, died of cancer a couple days later.

It seems that many of my communications now enumerate illness or death. It happens with getting older. But I am fortunate yet—in good health (despite the pesky knee), busy with volunteer work, basketball, landscaping and gardening, book club, seeing family and friends. I look forward to several trips in the next six months, including Austria, Southern CA, Oregon, Arizona, Texas, and Colorado.

Although I have joined Twitter, I don’t tweet. Although I have joined Facebook, I don’t update my wall. Although I blogged regularly for the Fast Break Club for two years, I retired from that a year ago. But I can and will answer if you communicate with me. (But don’t expect a Christmas letter this December.)

Life is good; I hope it is for you as well.


Harriet, Barry, and Bandit