Sailing the Racetrack Playa of Death Valley, California

No, this isn’t another travel post… It’s rocks doing the “sailing” this time.

These are moving rocks, also known as sailing stones, that mysteriously move across the surface of the Racetrack Playa, a seasonally dry lake (or playa) in the Panamint Mountains, Death Valley National Park. Most of the racetrack rocks originate from the nearby hillside of dark dolomite on the south end of the playa. As they move without human intervention, the rocks leave long tracks behind them, often tens of hundreds of feet and typically less than an inch deep. The rocks move once every two or three years and most tracks last for just three or four years. Rocks with rough bottoms leave straight striated tracks while those with smooth bottoms wander.

During periods of heavy rain, water washes down from the nearby mountain slopes onto the playa and form a shallow short-lived lake. Soon, the thin veneer of water evaporates and leaves behind a layer of soft gooey slippery mud. As it dries the mud shrinks and cracks into a mosaic of interlocking polygons.

Car Trouble in Butte, Montana—“Tap ‘er light!”

Known as "Big Sky Country" for obvious reasons, Montana offers 147,000 square miles of terrain and about 69,000 miles of public highways and roads to explore, including some of the most breathtaking scenery in North America (e.g., Beartooth Highway, Glacial National Park and Going to the Sun Road: West Glacier to Saint Mary's Lake, West Yellowstone, Madison River Country, the Bitteroot Valley, just to name a few).

Well, my delay in Montana had less to do with the weather than with my own neglect (I let the oil dwindle to nothing); although the heat may have conspired in my longer than intended stay in Montana. After lingering longer than I should have in Bozeman, I stopped in Butte for the night.
Butte was once considered the “richest hill on Earth”; it came into existence because of gold and is still an active mining community of copper, manganese and zinc as well as gold and silver. “You can see it in the smooth, worn streets, and the billboard images ghosted on brick hotels,” says the town’s visitor’s guide. The people who live and work in this worn-down but friendly town are proud of their mining history and culture. As a result of its mining heritage, Butte has even developed its own unique vernacular: mine-speak, which Kevin Shannon and Jim Edwards have documented in their book, Memories of a Mining Camp. For instance, instead of saying, “Take it easy” they say “Tap ‘er light,”, an old expression that goes back to hand drilling the holes for the dynamite in the mines. One guy would hold the steel and turn it while the other would pound it to bore the hole. The guy holding the steel would constantly worry about getting his hand whacked. Ouch!

The following morning, Chelsea, my trusty 1988 Plymouth Acclaim—after serving me for close to 9,000 km (5,592 miles) across America—refused to start.

From Cooking South Dakota to Storming Wyoming

As I drove the wind-swept plains of South Dakota that rolled gently into the sweltering heat of the open plateau, I recalled telling my friend in Kentucky on the phone earlier that there wasn’t a speck of shade to be had—whereupon she’d laughed and reminded me that she’d warned me of just that very thing: east of Rapid City and the Black Hills there is no shade to be found. The next day, as I adjusted my Armstrong Air-Conditioning (e.g., I opened all the windows of the car), I had to laugh out loud when I spotted a sign on the interstate that advertized trees and shade. It was so hot that even the chocolate biscuit of my ice cream sandwich melted! When I checked later I found that the temperature had been in the mid nineties (34 degrees Centigrade), which is nothing compared to the record temperature for that time period of 109 degrees F (and that was just last year!).

As I entered Wyoming I almost immediately got into some "weather". I was barely past the welcome sign when I spotted a weather-advisory sign and remembered that I wasn’t far from “Tornado Alley” in eastern Wyoming. No sooner had I seen the sign when the wind picked up and dark clouds swept in toward me. Lightning struck several times. It began to rain. Then it pelted.

America, You’re Beautiful!—Part 4: Bozeman, MT, and The Leaf & Bean Coffee House

The look on the street is Carrie Bradshaw in country boots. No need to pack a blow-dryer; the Keep it Wild philosophy extends from nature to hair, which is also left untamed—Travel & Leisure Online

The visitor’s guide describes Bozeman, Montana, as “a charming town. In a John Wayne—Norman Rockwell—Bob Marley sort of way.” No where is this more apparent than in the heart of Bozeman’s historic downtown, along Main Street, near its intersection with Wilson Avenue. This area features a relaxed funky atmosphere, an exciting commingling of southern wild west and northern yuppy vogue.

A cross between Louisville’s bohemian Bardstown Road and Victoria’s attractive Government Street, Main Street of downtown Bozeman is a memorable walk. Lamps adorned with colorful bouquets of local flowers line the downtown street. Most of the buildings are heritage-style brick facades with original signage. Among the galleries (like the Beatnik), antique stores and movie theatre, I spotted several music shops, like Cactus Records, which sells international and local music and equipment. Main Street is an attractive retail corridor that houses more than 100 shops and restaurants, including those selling sporting goods, clothing, furniture, kitchen equipment, and technology. Remember, Montana has no sales tax.

Nina’s American Book Tour: Bozeman, Montana

The Barnes & Noble book store in Bozeman, Montana, is located on Main Street, a hip and funky street that gets downright interesting by the time you hit 10th Avenue (more on that in a later post). I signed several copies of Darwin’s Paradox last week at the store and must thank Jeni, Karen and Louise (hope your ankle is better, Louise!) for their help in setting everything up on such short notice. If you live in or near or are simply passing through this cool city in the Montana mountains and gateway to Yellowstone National Park and Glacier National Park, drop in to Barnes & Noble and pick up a signed copy. Last I heard there were still some left.

Bozeman itself is a colorful and attractive city with cultural diversity and a level of “coolness” that comes from being a university town set amidst lofty mountains with a western flavor. Bozeman is located in the Gallatin Valley, surrounded by magnificent mountain ranges. North of the city, the Bridger Mountains attract thousands of skiers each winter. The Gallatin Range and the Madison Range, south of Bozeman, rise more than 10,000 feet and have peaks covered with snow much of the year. Montana State University is located in Bozeman, with a very attractive campus and programs that range from agricultural sciences, engineering to the fine arts. I spent some time there, particularly in the student union building, where the bookstore and the pub were. I would so enjoy teaching here; I just might…My son wouldn't mind it too much either. According to PubClub.com: "this is place to go if you love to be outdoors and ski...ski bums are all over the campus and so are the hippies...its a true party college." The Museum of the Rockies, located on campus, features many wonderful paleontology exhibits. Jack Horner, the world's top dinosaur hunter and an adviser to the movie "Jurassic Park," works at the Museum. Occasionally, Museum visitors see Professor Horner inspecting the Museum's latest exhibits.

The visitor’s guide describes Bozeman as “a charming town. In a John Wayne—Norman Rockwell—Bob Marley sort of way.” The town’s history goes back to the time when Gallatin Valley (where Bozeman lies) was used by Indian tribes, including the Flathead, Sioux, Shoshone, Nez Perce, and Blackfeet, who all hunted for game and edible plants. According to tribal lore, Indians agreed not to fight in the Gallatin Valley, instead conceding to share the area’s beauty and resources with one another. European fur traders came in the 1700s, with Lewis and Clark leading a historic expedition to the Three Forks of the Missouri in 1805. Mountain men roamed through the area trapping beaver and acting as guides.

The town is named after John Bozeman, a Georgian who’d left his family to find fortune in the West. The town was named in his honor in 1864, shortly before he was killed near Yellowstone under mysterious circumstances.

Yellowstone National Park, just south of Bozeman, was created in 1872 and is the first and oldest national park in the world. Bozeman is often referred to as the “Yellowstone Connection”. After an unsuccessful bid to become the state capital, Bozeman was chosen as the site for the new agricultural college, which became Montana State University, home of the fighting Bobcats.

Bozeman currently supports a population of 30,000 interesting "urban cowboys" from young to old and funky to intellectual. From appearance, dress, comportment and speech I was treated to an attractive and exciting commingling of southern wild west and northern yuppy vogue. Travel & Leisure Online wrote: “The look on the street is Carrie Bradshaw in cowboy boots. No need to pack a blow-dryer; the Keep it Wild philosophy extends from nature to hair, which is also left untamed.” I felt at home.

America, You’re Beautiful!—Part 3: Murdo, SD

Fresh from the funk and culture of Louisville, KY, I continued my search for “genuine America” as I headed back west along the Interstate 90—and found it in the lazy town of Murdo in South Dakota. Located 173 miles east of Rapid City and Sturgis, the site of an annual motorcycle rally (August 4-10, 2008) that draws participants from all over the world, Murdo is nothing to look at, really, but I desperately needed to stop and rest for the night. The bright yellow sign of the Super 8 Motel beckoned and I decided to try it. Not only was the Super 8 too expensive for my now slim pocket book but I decided that the place lacked character, like all the handy chain hotels along the interstates. The receptionist politely directed me down the town’s business road and I encountered the charming Sioux Motel, with its original sign that featured a Sioux Indian with full headdress. Now, this was more like it…