NNAOPP Update
May 2019
Welsh Cousins Reunion And
Other Stuff
Cousin
Steve hosted this year’s reunion of the Welsh clan at his home in Los Alamos,
NM attended by 10 of the 14 of us along with a smattering of spouses and
significant others.
Jesse
(1892-1986) and Mayme (1894-1993) Welsh begat five children, Helen, Hilda,
Jesse, Jr. aka Bill, Ruel, and Mary aka Joan, who in turn begat 14
offspring. Each is an accomplished
person, and, like the children from Lake Woebegone, is above average.
From left to right: Joan, Bill, Helen, Hilda,
Mayme, Ruel, Jesse Welsh
One,
however, is worthy of special note, Steve.
He once told me, “I was just an average student.” And I replied, “Yes,
I’ve observed how common it is for ‘average’ students to obtain advanced
degrees in physics.”
He
is a quiet man, one of the smartest people I’ve encountered, and extremely self-effacing. He would never boast of his achievements, so
I’ll do it for him. Steve spent his
career working at the Los Alamos National Laboratory, specializing in the field
of super conductivity. He holds 22 patents and authored 262 unclassified scientific
articles, my favorite being, “Method for improving performance of high
temperature superconductors within a magnetic field.” He is an avid hiker, biker, and skier, once
mapping the sites of the known petroglyphs in the nearby White Rock Canyon. He served on the Los Alamos Art in Public
Places commission, and his home and gardens and their museum quality contents
are a testament to his exquisite taste.
He can fix / build anything and possesses a dry, wry wit. Most importantly, he is a gentle spirit and a
very nice man.
But
possibly his finest attribute is that he can explain complex things to dunderheads. For example, during one of our after-dinner
group conversations Steve mentioned in passing reading a book on cell structure. Only after being prodded, did he proceed to
explain, to everyone’s satisfaction, the relationship of atoms and molecules to
cellular components, even giving due to sub-atomic particles. It goes without saying that this discussion
was enhanced by alcohol.
Los
Alamos may be the only town in America where restrooms in fast food restaurants
feature periodic table posters. Steve
mentioned that one of his co-worker’s Dad visited and insisted on playing the
license plate game. They got all 50
states without leaving the Labs’ employee parking lot, owing to the presence of
visiting scientists and interns.
One
evening we were the guests of Steve’s friends and neighbors, Paul and Nancy, at
their beautiful home situated on the western edge of the White Rock Canyon with
pleasing views of the Rio Grande River and the Sangre de Cristo mountains in
the distance. Whilst enjoying tasty
snacks and drinks and enjoying the majestic scenery we were treated to the sighting
of a Western Tanager, one of the planet’s prettiest birds.
Steve
and Paul led a hike down the 1,000’ elevation from the canyon lip to the Rio
Grande. Pat, husband of cousin Carol,
distinguished himself by making the journey on two crutches. He’s truly an iron man. On Saturday most of
us went to nearby Santa Fe.
Several
of us went to Meow Wolf, a unique attraction. Imagine enlisting the talents of
100+ gifted artists and craftsmen, give them a generous budget and an overdose
of LSD, then turn them loose in a vacant bowling alley, and you get Meow
Wolf. One walks into a nice Victorian
style house with a front porch. Then one
ventures forth either through the fireplace in the living room, or through the
refrigerator in the kitchen, or from the dryer, each leading into a
phantasmagorical world. Quite a treat
and perhaps coming to a city near you soon.
It
was a fun weekend, and we enjoyed reminiscing.
None were surprised to learn that we all called Jesse and Mayme,
‘Grandma and Grandpa’ having grown up in an era before designer grandparent
names were in vogue.
The Welsh Cousins
Southwestern Travels
I’ve
always wanted to see Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park, so the Judester and I
decided this would be a great opportunity to make the journey.
We
flew into Albuquerque, rented a car, first going to Los Alamos. The drive from ABQ was interesting owing
primarily to the many roadside advertisements for injury lawyers. If imitation is truly the greatest form of
flattery, then the creators of ‘Breaking Bad’ and ‘Better Call Saul’ would be
pleased. Signs read, ‘Hurt, Call Bert’,
‘Enough Said, Call Ed,’ ‘Fall, Call Paul,’, ‘Spurned, Call Fern’, and so
on. I pondered my missed opportunity had
I become a billboard attorney. With time
and the help of friends, I’m sure I could have come up with something that
rhymes with Chuck.
Our
westward journey took us some 1,250 miles through the sparsely populated region
that makes up a goodly portion of the Navajo Nation. We crossed the Rio Grande, Chama, San Juan,
Animas, and Colorado Rivers. Once in
Utah we crossed the Kanab, Mystic, Sevier, and Virgin Rivers. All were flowing vigorously, a consequence of
heavy spring rains and snow melt. The northward
flowing Sevier River was out of its banks.
We
traveled through numerous tiny towns in NM and AZ, each with a Post Office,
often the only habitable building. Among
those were: Abiquiu, Coyote, Calina, Regina, LaJara, Nageezi, Shiprock, Teec
Nos Pos, Red Mesa, Mexican Water, Kayenta, Tsegi, Shonto, and Kaibito. We would drive for dozens of miles without
seeing another vehicle or any signs of human activity. We did see herds of what appeared to be wild
horses.
Because
of the wet spring and winter, we were treated to an uncommonly green
desert. From a distance, the sage looked
like a carpet covering the landscape.
Once
in Utah the towns and farms became uncommonly tidy. Towns like Kanab, Orderville, Hatch,
Springdale, Virgin, et al were quite handsome and well kempt.
The
principal benefit of driving through this isolated portion of the great
American Southwest was viewing the infinite array of earthly etchings created
by 200 million years of wind, water, and planetary upheavals. Shiprock is one of the first masterpieces we
viewed, rising nearly 1600’ from the high desert floor. Once in Page, AZ we toured the Glen Canyon
Dam, Lake Powell, Antelope Canyon, and the Horseshoe Bend of the Colorado
River. All fantastic. Lamentably, we were not able to descend into
Antelope Canyon due to the possibility of flash floods.
Horseshoe Bend just downstream from the Glen
Canyon dam
Even
though it was mid-May, and it was rainy and cold, every attraction was hugely
crowded. There were dozens of busloads
of Asian tourists. One could hear about
any language imaginable when mixing with fellow visitors
It
was cold, rainy, and snowy when we got to Bryce Canyon, all to the good in
enhancing its ethereal beauty.
Bryce Canyon from the Fairyland Lookout
I
was certain that nothing could surpass Bryce Canyon, but I was quickly proven
wrong as we entered the Mt. Carmel – Zion highway into Zion National Park. It is an engineering marvel offering
unparalleled scenery. Far better
scriveners than I have attempted to describe the park.
Frederick
S. Dellenbaugh spent the summer of 1903 painting Zion Canyon. His paintings were exhibited in the 1904 St.
Louis World’s Fair where spectators could not believe such a place was
real. He further introduced the nation
to Zion Canyon with these words:
“One
hardly knows just how to think of it.
Never before has such a naked mountain of rock entered into our
minds! Without a shred of disguise its
transcendent form rises preeminent.
There is almost nothing to compare to it. Niagara has the beauty of energy; the Grand
Canyon, of immensity; the Yellowstone, of singularity; the Yosemite, of altitude;
the ocean, of power; this Great Temple, of eternity—"
Shuttle busses provide the only
transportation up and down the canyon, and we overheard one of our fellow
travelers echoing Dellenbaugh, “It just doesn’t seem real.”
My favorite part of the trip was a
five mile hike up to Angel’s Landing.
The path rises about 1500’ from the Virgin River, and it is fairly
strenuous, but fortunately at relatively low altitude (rising from 4500’ to
6,000’) enabling one to breathe. The
path is mostly paved. One of the most
famous features is a series of man-made switchbacks called the Wriggles.
View
of the Wriggles leading up to Angel’s Landing
My journey ended when I got to the
spot pictured below, about a hundred yards from the peak. It is a pretty narrow path giving way to a
precipitous drop-off. It’s not visible
in the photograph, but there is a strong chain strung along this part of the
hike offering the hiker some semblance of safety, but I still took a pass.
View
of the final yards leading to Angel’s Landing
It was rainy with temps in the mid
40’s during our visit, making for comfortable climbing. We were told that May temperatures are
usually in the 90’s.
We made final stops in Kolob Canyon
and the Virgin River Gorge while traveling back to Las Vegas for the flight
home. I’d recommend the trip to anyone.
A few tidbits.
If you’re going to travel to any of
the national parks, and you’re old, it is wise to get a senior pass. It costs $80, but it is good forever, and it
will save you the $35 entrance fee each time you enter a park.
I’d highly recommend Ruby’s Inn in
Bryce Canyon and Flanigan’s in Springdale, both offer great lodgings and tasty
chow.
I can’t wait to see what happens to
this magnificent landscape over the next 10-20 million years. I bet it will be
mighty cool.
Waverly’s Stories
Granddaughter Waverly often asks me
to tell her stories, and I eagerly oblige.
She sometimes exaggerates in retelling said tales, but who am I to
complain.
A few weeks ago, I joined Waverly
for lunch at her school. We were seated
at a table with three of her classmates, and Waverly was being a bit
frisky. She proclaimed in her machine
gun delivery, “My Papa was in jail!
Twice! He once stood at a busy intersection and mooned cars passing by!
His friend fell through the ice in a river and then shot himself in the leg
with a pistol! In the army he stitched up a guy’s face who was in a knife fight
and the cut was 5” deep! His brother tried to kill him! More than once!”
I then tried to defuse the situation
with defensible explanations, “Hey, I was only five when I mooned those people”,
but by now there were about a dozen fourth graders at our table, and the die
was cast.
One week later, Judy and I hosted
Waverly’s girl scout troop for a campout at our farm. I drove the girls out in two different groups
into the forest for an orienteering exercise, gave them directions how to first
find their treasure (s’more’s ingredients) and then how to find their way back
to the barn. Earlier I had given them
instructions on how to use a compass. I
also wisely instructed them on how to identify morels. Each group did get hopelessly lost, but
fortunately, while meandering aimlessly, Group A, found a treasure trove of
morels. We ended up picking about a
bushel and a half. No girls were lost
permanently.
After cooking our aluminum foil hobo
dinners on the campfire, I let each girl drive my Kawasaki Mule (with me
sitting nearby). On such a drive, one of
the girls asked, “So, are you the guy that was in jail?”
I am now less invisible than before.
Judy’s Cousin Bob
I hear a new, great story almost
every time I encounter my 89-year-old friend Bob. Here’s the latest as told in his voice (with
my parenthetical asides):
“When I was about 14 (growing up in
Joplin, MO), I had a typing teacher named Irene Prosser Freely. (Think about
that for a minute). She was beautiful,
and I was madly in love with her. (In spite of the unfortunate name.) She was single and lived in a boarding house
near our school. One day she was sitting
on the porch of her home when I walked by.
I extended a greeting and sat down beside her, and then timidly put my
arm around her. Whereupon she smacked me
so hard, I almost fell over, and she said, “We will not speak of this.”
Judy’s dream
President
Trump was visiting our house, and he gave Judy some decorating ideas. After walking around, he opined, “This space
would make a better study than a closet.”
This is a promising development, as Judy’s dreams often involve me doing
something nasty.
Book
sales continue to trickle in, but I still remain quite short of my goal of
besting Melville. And that’s the news from here.
Chuck
Charles A. Wells, Jr.
3317 W. 68th Street
Shawnee Mission, KS 66208
816 289-1924
Author of: Ordinary People Who Aren't: An Anthology and
Nude Nuns and Other Peculiar People
Follow my blog at: http://www.nudenuns.blogspot.com/
