Category Archives: Travel

A trip to the Exploratorium

Located at the Palace of Fine Arts on the site of the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition, the Exploratorium is one of San Francisco’s best entertainments. It has the added benifit of being in a building designed by architect Bernard Maybeck.  The Exploratorium  bills itself as a museum of science, art, and human perception but it is much more. It is a giant, interactive, toy for anybody who is even a little curious about the world we live in.

A couple of weeks ago, I went there with my grandkids.

When I was in the Army, in Korea, I read Herb Caen, a gossip columnists in the San Francisco Chrony that everybody read. Every time I got a letter, it would have several Caen columns. During that year, one of the things that he was promoting was the restoration of the Palace of Fine Arts which, by then, was the only building left from the world’s fair built to show San Francisco’s Phoenix-like comeback from the 1906 earthquake. Then, like now, I was interested in architecture, and then, like now, I loved Bernard Maybeck. I loved his take on classical architecture at the Palace of Fine Art and sent a couple of bucks to my mom to contribute to the cause. She thought that my contribution was mis-placed and sent the money somewhere else. I have blocked out where.

So I was very happy to see that the restoration took place without my money and, eventually, became the home of the Exploratorium. The Exploratorium, itself, was the brain child of Frank Oppenheimer. Frank was the brother of Robert Oppenheimer, considered the father of the Atomic bomb. In my book, Frank has left the better legacy.

I fell in love with the Exploratorium when I went there as a childless adult, then later, with my daughter Samantha, then my “little brother”, Edwin Peña, and, now, with my grandchildren. Charlotte and August.

 

Any kid, every kid, can find hundreds of fascinating experiments. So can any adult.

 

 

Northwestern Nevada: day three, bailing out

On our last day, we woke with frost free sleeping bags. The wind was there, the flat light was there, but it was clearing down south and the sun was almost coming out from behind the clouds. That is how the post started and then after about two more hours of work, I hit Save Draft and everything but the pictures disappeared. Shit! I can’t believe it.

Here is the summery: We got up and the weather was bad with wind and clouds. We went for a walk and the weather got worse.  It even rained a few big drops. With the wind, the flat light, and, maybe, rain; we decided to go home early. I was still worried about the car so I took the highway south past the remains of Lake Winnemucka which had been drained in the early 20th century, stopping to take a picture of its old shoreline. I got home in time to watch the sun set over San Bruno Mountain. It was a fun trip and enjoyable to hang out with Peter. Check out Peter’s take on the trip here.

 

 

We bailed out.

 

 

Pickleball and Obama

my sister, Barb Heaney, is on the left with the silver medal
Henry Painter, center, won gold in men's singles

Sitting here at my parents house in Ireland, I learned that my sister, Barb, and her husband, Henry, won silver and gold metals in the SeaTac Spring Invitational Pickleball Tournament while images of Obama and the Queen’s recent visits here play on the TV. Watching the crowds cheer Obama say “Yes We Can” in Gaelic reminded me of the excitement during the election. He looked like he was having a great time as well.

Talking to people, Obama seems to have generated much more excitement than the Queen. When I asked one local resident if Obama was popular here in Ireland, he looked at me like that the the dumbest question he had heard and told me that he thought Obama was the most popular person in the world. It is great to be in a place where it is just assumed that Obama is popular.

In case you are wondering, Pickleball is a sport played on a badminton court with a ball similar to a whiffle ball. I knew Barb and Henry are international badminton champions but that they are also winners in this new sport is new to me. Congratulations to them both!

 

 

A trip to the mountains west of death Valley cont.

After driving all day Thursday, we all slept in on Friday.

But it did not take very long before the sun got bright enough and hot enough to wake us. After a quickie breakfast, we packed up


and hurried over to the Eureka Sand Dunes.

The Eureka Dunes are not very large or famous but they are among the highest dunes in the United States at over 650 feet above the valley floor. They look smaller because they are framed by the striped limestone cliffs of the Last Chance Range that rise up 3000 to 4000 feet higher. Sand dunes are caused by wind blowing across the valley floor and picking up fine dust and sand; as the wind hits the higher mountains, it slows down, loses energy, and drops its heavy load. One thing that I find interesting is that the the individual grains of sand are constantly changing but the size and shape of the dunes do not.

As an aside, after getting home I realized that, with four people on our trip, I took alot less pictures than I usually do when I am only with Michele. Among things I didn’t take pictures of were the beauty of the sand dunes. Fortunately, Kirk Moore has some wonderful sand dune pictures over at his website. I highly recommend that you take a look. End aside.

By the time we got to the dunes, it was starting to warm up and the dunes were getting very bright. We hiked up about half way, maybe 350 to 400 feet, on sand that got looser and looser.

About the time that the day starting getting really hot,  heading towards triple digits. We got back in the truck and looked for shade. First it was back to the main road and then over the Last Chance Range into Death Valley itself. As we started over the last pass before Death Valley, we started seeing more plants in bloom. First the Beavertail Cactus, also known as the Pricklypear Cactus and probably known as some other names which is why people who like plants and go looking for them in the wild end up using the botanical name. In this case, Opuntia basilarus.  Just as we got to the pass overlooking upper Death Valley, we came across lots of clumps of Desert Aster, AKA Mojave Aster, or Aster mohavensis.

Then it was down into Death Valley, past Crankshaft Crossing, and on to Scotty’s Castle where we had lunch in the shade.

 

 

A trip to the mountains west of Death Valley

Last Thursday I, along with my wife Michele and our friends Howard Dunair and Basha Cohen, spent the day driving down Highway 395.  Highway 395 runs from Canada to somewhere in the Mojave Desert.  Between Reno, where we got on to Big Pine, where we got off, 395 runs just to the east of the Sierras. Reno is at about 4500 feet and Big Pine is at about 4100,m but, from Reno, the road climbs to a pass of over 8100 feet so Big pine seems much lower.

The Mojave desert is the the UFO desert, the wacko desert, and it seems to have seeped up the 395 corridor.  About an hour south of Reno, we ran into a guy who was pulling a cross from San Francisco to, I think, St. Louis. He had been saved by Jesus and wanted to save others. Like other people I have met who have been saved, he was sincere, open, passionate, and living so far from my reality as to be incomprehensible. I do admire his conviction, however.

 

Miles later, web got to an overlook and view spot with a guard rail. The guard rail has become a poster board for – for lack of a better word – travel stickers. I think that I first saw a bunch of travel stickers stuck on the windows of a a store – for foreigners – at the edge of the Sahara desert. Now I notice them anywhere tourists pass by, such as a guard rail at a view spot. Here – as Michele poinbted out – was an interesting group that showed one evolution of the Keep Tahoe Blue sticker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we moved south, after crossing the high point of Highway 395, we dropped from one basin to another, each one lower and warmer with the Sierras on our right getting higher and higher. Mile after mile.

 

Finally, at Big Pine, we turned left off of the highway and drove towards the deep desert.

And once we reached Eureka Valley, we stopped to drink a toast to the road.

To be continued….