Mordor on my Mind

 

Before we get to our adventure in Sauron's old 'hood:

Cursed Canyon is here - click on the picture to check it out.

This is the second Wyrd Western anthology from Raconteur Press and I'm pleased to say I have stories in both - in addition to stories in the Road Trippin' and the Pin Up Noir 2 anthologies. Go here to check out these anthologies and my other books. Note that the Road Trippin' anthology features a story about my dad's motorcycle trip back in the 50s. He read it last night and called to let me know he liked it. Now I have a question about Russian motorcycles sold in the U.S. during the 50s.

 If you're thinking the landscape above looks like Mordor, you're not far off. We took a little trip to Craters of the Moon because we had a hankerin' for hiking among wreck and ruin of Mordor after Sauron's fall. It was October, after all. 

The Two Watchers at the gate would not take cash but insisted on seizing the credit card temporarily before allowing us to pass. Like good hobbits, we started with second breakfast, or as we called it: Lunch. Wanting to conserve the lembas, we consumed our sandwiches, water, chips, and grapes at a handy picnic table in the sun, but we were still a little cool. Some of us were cooler than others. Nary an orc disturbed us.

Like Frodo and Sam with their guide climbing the stairs of Cirith Ungol, we mounted to the summit of a big cinder mountain for a view of the volcanic devastation.

Our next stop was to see a couple volcanic vents, also known as black holes in the ground. After we saw the first one, we opted to pass on the second. Then we hiked to the caves in search of Shelob's Lair. Although there was a narrow blacktop trail to the caves, the caves themselves have little to no improvement. At Indian Tunnel we took the stairs down a few steps to the boulders and climbed down into the pit. Although we saw orc sign in the form of pigeon feathers, we didn't see any orcs. 

You may notice that the dead Eye of Sauron seemed to be upon us, and we headed right for it. The tunnel proved to be orc free, although we did meet a pair of discount travelers. We hurried through in our effort to find Shelob, stopping only to chat and take photos. We didn't find her. Unfortunately, the other caves, which must have included the lair of that spawn of Ungoliant were closed because the bats were sleeping or maybe it was an orc and troll rehabilitation conference.

We made our retreat, stopping at the Devil's Orchard for a quick stroll. It was the equivalent of a visit to the Shire after Saruman had evicted the hobbits and redecorated in a motif of lava cinders and corpsified Ents.

Ennio Morricone's The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly soundtrack carried us home as on wings of eagles, but there weren't any welcoming ceremonies or crowning of new kings.

We arrived here on Monday and began the nine and one half mile hike through rugged country in the middle of the day--during the hottest week of the year. 

Part of the view from the first summit. The smoke from the nearby fires wasn't too bad that first day.

It was somewhere near here that we met two diminutive lads who mentioned something about being on their way to return a piece of jewelry that had been giving them problems.

I haven't succeeded yet in downloading the remaining pictures. The story of the death march and the successful plotting of a new book will wait until I can get the other photos--the much better ones-- included.
***

I did get back in time to attend a daughter's wedding. There are days that shine like the brightest stars in the firmament. Yesterday was one of those days. To see one's children gathered in an important place, doing the right things for the right reasons is a premium parental pay-day. I couldn't help but look upon them and say, "I guess we didn't totally mess up. We may have even done a thing or two correctly." Of course, the self-congratulations may be hollow. Probably, the material we had to work with had an innate resilience; the other influences, especially that of my wife, overcame most of my mistakes in the life lessons and personal responsibility department.

The wedding was a wonderful and simple affair followed by an excellent luncheon put together by the groom's family. Fantastic souls turned out to setup for the reception at our home in the evening.

The canvas of this daughter's life is painted in laughter. I'm sure that pattern will continue. Tears and sweat mark the canvas in vivid colors as well, but the dominant theme has been that of fun and good-spirits. She has matured much in the last two years. As she pushes away from the secure shores of youth to set out upon the windswept waters of adult responsibility, there is an air of expectation, an aspiration for life on a higher plane united with another heart. The waves will roll, the storms may rage, but their quiet confidence in each other and in the principles that have brought them together will guide them through the difficulties of life. Of course, it may not be the rolling thunder, banks of fog, or tumultuous waves that present the greatest difficulties. The doldrums of life where supports seem absent and progress stalls often try the soul as severely as any storm. Tenacious perseverance and steadfast determination in the face of the seemingly empty void, like the long, slow trudge across the desert expanse, may build more character and unity than does the fierce melee against the contrary elements. May they live long and prosper in love, laughter, and learning of each other and the many subtle secrets of success.

Breakfast in Versailles

Excitement...and the desire to shower again...roused us from our bed. My wife had been worried that we would end up, in Griswald European Vacation fashion, sharing a community bathroom with strangers. I did try to dispel that fear, but couldn't unequivocally state that it wasn't a remote possibility--part of my "keep expectations low" style of husbandship. So every private shower was a victory. This may have been the most impressive part of the trip for my wife...no shared bathrooms.

Breakfast, and the purchase of groceries and supplies were next on the list for the morning. We went into the mall and found that every place was still closed. The breakfast places wouldn't be open for at least another half hour. We decided to hunt the elusive Monoprix (see link from previous post). It was the largest store in the mall, a superstore. How tough could it be to locate? Besides, I knew that it was at the same end of the mall as our hotel.

Turns out, "elusive" was an entirely a propos description for the Monoprix. Elmer Fudd had better luck finding Bugs Bunny than we had stalking this huge (literally building-sized), stationary object. My confidence began to suffer. I began to doubt that I had actually seen a Monoprix listed in this mall. We finally went outside and walked around the outside of the complex, or a part of it. It was a long walk...like Shire to Mordor long...give or take an orc. No Monoprix. I began to suspect a Romulan cloaking device. That's exactly what it was...sort of, almost.

In the previous post, I mentioned construction next door to the hotel. Part of the mall was undergoing some remodeling, and had been entirely blocked off. Yep. That part included the Monoprix. No megastore for groceries and supplies for us. Once more, I had planned to amaze my wife. Once more, Fate had blown smoke in my face, and said drolly, "Didn't see that one coming, did you? I own you, kid." I appreciate when I get called, "kid." It makes me feel young; it takes away the sting.

We did find the Lindt store, and my wife made me take a picture of it:

We skipped the restaurant breakfast, because we didn't want to walk back to that place (we had already put in more than a mile), and grabbed le petit dejeuner at a Brioche Doree stand (apparently there are some of these in the U.S. too). I had a pain au chocolate; my wife had a croissant; we each had orange juice; it was the special: one viennoiserie and a juice for 3 or 4 euros. This was my first pain au chocolat in roughly 30 years (some of them were rougher than others--meaning the years, not the food). When I had lived in Paris long ago, I had eaten pain au chocolat almost every day. They came in various sizes and quality. These were large and delicious baked goods, and we enjoyed them. We had taken "a jumbo across the water," in the words of Supertramp, and eaten breakfast in Versailles.

Next: The super market experience.