Five years ago, in a blog post titled A Long Day, I wrote that I would be publishing individual posts on different places we had stopped.  While I had the best of intentions, I never got around to it – until now.

Chimney Rock National Historic Site

As a kid growing up in western Nebraska, Chimney Rock was an a familiar image from tourist advertising, posters and postcards.  However, I only had one opportunity to see it when I was still living there – and I really don’t remember if I did.

Chimney Rock National Historic Site, Nebraska, July 9, 2010

Chimney Rock is one of the most famous and recognizable landmarks for pioneer travelers on the Oregon, California, and Mormon Trails, a symbol of the great western migration. Located approximately four miles south of present-day Bayard, at the south edge of the North Platte River Valley, Chimney Rock is a natural geologic formation, a remnant of the erosion of the bluffs at the edge of the North Platte Valley. A slender spire rises 325 feet from a conical base. The imposing formation, composed of layers of volcanic ash and brule clay dating back to the Oligocene Age (34 million to 23 million years ago), towers 480 feet above the North Platte River Valley.

Though the origins of the name of the rock are obscure, the title “Chimney Rock” probably originated with the first fur traders in the region. In the early 19th century, however, travelers referred to it by a variety of other names, including Chimley Rock, Chimney Tower, and Elk Peak, but Chimney Rock had become the most commonly used name by the 1840s.

After examining over 300 journal accounts of settlers moving west along the Platte River Road, historian Merrill Mattes concluded that Chimney Rock was by far the most mentioned landmark. Mattes notes that although no special events took place at the rock, it held center-stage in the minds of the overland trail travelers.  (National Park Service)

Farm Buildings, Mountain Farm Museum,
Oconaluftee Valley, North Carolina,
Great Smokey Mountains National Park, May 6, 2009

There was a a lull in the precipitation on a wet, rainy day when we visited the Mountain Farm Museum at the North Carolina entrance to Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  We were camped on the Tennessee side of the park and were out exploring by car since it was too wet to go far on any of the trails.

South Rim, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona, October 7, 2011

This was our second visit to the Grand Canyon, the first a quick look-and-see in 1978 on our way home to Idaho from a family visit in Arkansas.  On this visit, we started out camping on the north rim, but left early because of the threat of early snow. It’s a long, round about drive to get from the north rim to the south.  We managed to get in a couple more days exploring.

While other people love it – and I can certainly appreciate that – I don’t think that Grand Canyon will ever be one of our preferred destinations.  It’s just so big and so much the same from one viewpoint to the next, especially from the south rim.  If we ever go back, I’d prefer to visit the north rim.

Paducah’s first motorized fire truck, William Clark Market House Museum – April 24, 2010

We were in Paducah, Kentucky, for the American Quilter’s Society Annual Quilt Show. It was the third time I had been to Paducah – Karen had made the trip without me before – and we were doing some exploring after going through the quilt show.  We had walked past the William Clark Market House Museum on our other visits and, on this trip, decided to check it out.

The museum is named after the town’s founder, William Clark, of the famed Lewis and Clark Expedition.  It is located at 121 South Second Street in the Market House Square, and it is open Tuesday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.  (Museum website)

Teardrop Camper at “Overflow camping” area for
Natural Bridges National Monument, Utah, October 1, 2011

Our plans after leaving Moab, Utah on our 2011 trip were to head further south in Utah and check out Natural Bridges National Monument.  We didn’t try to make reservations, figuring we probably wouldn’t need them.

It turned out that we weren’t able to camp at Natural Bridges, not only because all of the sites were full, but also because our little motorhome and the CRV we tow would take up too much space – the campsites at Natural Bridges are very small.  However, the ranger at the desk was able to direct us to a piece of BLM land up the road just a few miles, where we would be able to set up camp.

We found a nice little spot between some junipers that we could back the motorhome into.  We stayed two nights. Several other campers were there.  The small car with the teardrop camper pulled in the second afternoon and were getting ready to leave the next day, as were we.

At Natural Bridges, we took what ended up being one our favorite hikes of the trip – the Trail to Sipapu Natural Bridge.

Note: This post was originally published in 2007.  I recently came across it during a search on Exit78. It was missing its pictures and, after recovering the images, I decided to republish it as a “blast from the past” post.

Quilting is something that Karen really loves. In the photo above, she is demonstrating her quilting at the Historic Arkansas Museum in May 2007. The quilting frame she is using was purchased specifically for use in our camper when we are traveling. (Note: In 2007, the camper was much larger than the one we have now and the quilting frame is now to0 large.)

Karen has been able to sell some of her quilts through the museum store at the Historic Arkansas Museum in Little Rock. Since she does hand quilting, it takes a bit of time to complete. Still, some of the quilts have traveled much farther than we are ever likely to. As I understand it, one is in Austria, another in China, and a third was taken to South Africa as a gift for some foundation or organization.

The baby quilt below was purchased recently (2007) and we think that it is going to be used in an Aspen, Colorado raffle or auction fund raiser for cancer research.

You can see more of Karen’s quilts on her web site.

Windows Area, Arches National Park, September 27, 2011

We’ve visited the Windows Arches at least three times.  The trail is a loop trail with one leg – where this photo was taken –  going over to Turret Arch.  Some people just go to the first window, the North Window, other go further, to the second window, while others do the whole loop, so the trail distance varies from 0.5 to 2.0 mikes, depending on the visitors’ choice.  The trail is an easy, well-maintained path.  Hiking time varies from 30 minutes to 1.5 hours.  The trail is open all year.  1 to 2 liters of water is recommended during the warm part of the year.  We’ve visited when it was hot, but our preference is from the middle of September on, when it is cooler.  Even then, we carry water after a couple of hikes where we wished we had.  The only shade is under the arches or in the shadow of the rocks.

North and South Windows are also known as the spectacle arches.

Sawtooth Mountains, near Stanley, Idaho, July 29, 2010

After camping a few days at Bull Trout campground in Boise National Forest, we were on our way out of Idaho.  We had no firm plans for the immediate future, but were headed into Montana and, eventually, would be camping for a week in Yellowstone.

In the summer of 1968, I witnessed – and played a very small role in – a police chase along this stretch of Beaumont Highway (old U.S. 90), just outside of Houston Texas.

I was 16 years old that summer and was at work at my very first job. 

That summer of 1968, somewhere over on the right side of this picture, there was an old gas station, a two story white building with a two-bay garage on one side and a one story former café on the other side.  In the back was a very small one-story apartment. The old gas station also boasted a small inventory of auto parts.

Not only did I work there, but we lived there.  My mom, step-dad, sister and I occupied the rooms above the gas station and the small one-story apartment behind.  My step-dad was a truck driver. The owner of the gas station, Mr. Haley, had given me a job, pumping gas, changing oil, fixing tires, selling parts and more.

On June 26, 1968, on the busy West Loop freeway, Houston Police Officer Ben Gerhart (below, left) pulled a Buick over in a routine traffic and littering stop.

Gerhart obtained the driver’s license from the driver, Roderick Isaacks, a 23 year old white man, and took him back to Gerhart’s blue and white police car.  Gerhart briefly interviewed Issacks and then returned to the Buick to speak to the female passenger, Monica Isaacks, who told him her husband had a gun.

Not long before, Monica Isaacks had left Roderick because of physical abuse and had filed for divorce.  Roderick had found Monica and forced her to come back to live with him.  When they were stopped by Officer Gerhart, they were in the middle of a volatile domestic argument.  Four days earlier, Roderick Isaacks had purchased a handgun.

Officer Gerhart went back to his car, got Isaacks out of the car and searched him.  Finding no weapon, Gerhart started toward the Buick, probably to search there for a gun.  As Gerhart walked toward the vehicle, Roderick Isaacks ran past him and grabbed his gun from under the front seat.  Turning toward Gerhart, who had just pulled his weapon, Isaacks fired one shot, hitting the police officer in the face.  After Gerhart fell to the ground, Isaaks grabbed the officer’s weapon, ran back to the Buick and sped away north on the West Loop.

Several private citizens observed all or part of the encounter. One got on the police car radio and reported what had happened, including a description of the Buick and a license number.  Officer Gerhart was taken by ambulance to Memorial Northwest Hospital, less than a mile away, but he was dead on arrival.

The Isaacks’ Buick was spotted headed east on Old North Loop Freeway by a two man Traffic Enforcement Unit, Officers J.A. Shirley and C.F. Squyres in a six-cylinder Plymouth. They began pursuit and, shortly after, Accident Officer Bobby L. James (below, right), in an eight cylinder cruiser, joined the chase, pulling out between the two officers and the fleeing Buick.

With Officer James in close pursuit, the chase reached speeds of over 100 miles per hour, heading east on the North Loop and then onto Old Beaumont Highway, with more and more officers and vehicles joining the chase.

I don’t recall seeing the Buick or the first police chase vehicles.  I probably did, as sirens and flashing cop lights were not all that common out our way and I generally looked to see what was up. 

The sheer number of cop cars, marked and unmarked, certainly got our attention – and seared the event into my memory.  In 1968, a railroad spur crossed the road, leading to the power plant behind us.  The fast moving vehicles squatted and surged as they hit the tracks, moving through a road repair area at the tracks without slowing down appreciably – except for one.

An unmarked cop car rolled into the station with a flat on the right rear tire.  I ran and got the floor jack and rolled it out and under the car.  By the time I got it jacked up, my stepdad was there and we got to work getting the tire changed.  One of the two cops in suits – probably detectives – popped the truck so we could get the spare and, while it was open, the cops got what I think were shotguns. We had the flat off and the spare on far faster than I ever changed a tire.  The flat was so hot I nearly burned my hands picking it up and putting it in the trunk.  When one of the officers reached for his wallet, I waved him off and said something like, “That’s alright.  Just go.”  I didn’t know what was going on, but it sure seemed important.

Near Talcott Lane in Sheldon, Isaacks rear-ended a Ford occupied by three adults and four children. The collision caused both vehicles to spin around, ending up crossways to traffic.

Following close behind, Officer James was faced with a split-second decision – hitting one of the cars or taking his chances and going into the ditch on the right. Choosing the latter, he hit a three-foot high culvert and was killed instantly.

A widely held belief in the Houston Police Department was that James gave his life to avoid the possibility of hitting the Ford.

Roderick Isaacks fled on foot, firing at officers.  Cornered in a small clump of woods, he continued to shoot at his pursuers.  Sgt. Stephens and Officers Jeffcoat, Robbins, Shirley and Squyres returned fire, killing Isaacks.

Information for this post came from an article on the Houston Police Officer’s’ Union website, Fallen Officers Remembered: Officers Ben Gerhart and Bobby James.