It is easier to get an
Actor to be a cowboy than
get
a cowboy to be an actor.
Director John Ford.

Cinemas Perfect
Storm
It
is 1939, and there is a storm brewing in Hollywood California. John Ford has
agreed to make the ninety fifth film of his career, and for the first time he
has agreed to place John Wayne in the lead role. At this point Ford is well
aware of Wayne, they can even be called friends, and his decision to hand over
the role as Ringo Kid, is loaded with gunpowder and intrigue. The West is a
place where dreams are as big as the sky and every cowboy’s goal is to ride off
into the sunset. Many have challenged its vast plains, mountains, peaks and
valleys, leaving their mark along the way. It was home for outlaw Jesse James, Josie
Wales and the Grand Tetons range, it is a place where the good die young, the
whiskey never runs dry and the posse is always at the ready.
And
here on a piece of the Colorado Plateau, that covers parts
of these four states, Arizona, Colorado, Utah and New Mexico, where you will
find Director John Ford’s favorite film locations.
Monument
Valley is located on the northern border of Arizona and Utah, not too far
from the Four
Corners
of the United States. And here, on these weather-beaten plains filled with raw
natural sandstone pillars that towered over the desert floor, as though hands
upraised in adoration to the creator, it is the site of nature’s finest natural
movie stage, where more Westerns have been filmed to date than anywhere else.
Filming here incorporates the sandstone formations, the barren red landscape, and
the Navajo Indian Nation adds a defining quality to the films backdrop.
A
lot is involved in making movies, actors, directors, caterers, and locations,
but the director is king. John Ford is already a star director. Ford is a
veteran of over ninety films and the recipient of a Golden Globe as well as the
Silver Condor and at this point two Lifetime Achievement awards from two different
organizations.
The
third ingredient in the growing tempest is a kid born with a name so unlike the
man he is destined to become, that very early in his film career, Marion
Morrison, discarded his birth name, and perhaps his past, and is christened
John Wayne, the name that would become a household name, as well as a persona
unmatched by any man in his life time.
Already
a veteran in the films business, Wayne was on his way to make his first movie
with Ford. Even though Wayne was already thirty six, he still was not a big name.
He for all intense and purpose was nothing more than a veteran B movie actor. Wayne’s
career as Hollywood’s leading man was still to come, and finally for the first
time he was to go under the direction of the accomplished director Ford. Ford
and Wayne’s relationship was tempestuous to say the least. Ford knew Wayne well,
having watched him grow up around Hollywood’s movie lots, first when Wayne was
a student working on the Fox lot as an assistant property man, and then later, Ford
gave the “kid” some nondescript roles in a few of his films. It was Ford, who
while not willing to use Wayne in a major role in his films, had recommend him
some nine years earlier to director Raoul Walsh, for the lead in, The Big Trail, which was at the time
Fox’s biggest film to date. The film was a disaster due to a new widescreen
format that many theaters could not adapt to, as well as additional issues that
arose, and Wayne was forced back to the B lots to find work. It has always been
thought that had Ford wanted he could have stepped in and saved Wayne the
heartache of failure at that point, but Ford choose to watch from a distance,
and as Wayne’s career stalled Ford’s roared ahead; with him becoming one of the
biggest directors in Hollywood.
It
was on the set of Mother Machree, in
1928, that Wayne and Ford first
crossed paths. While working as a propman on the set, Wayne’s only
responsibility was to release a gaggle of geese from a pen and heard them into
the camera view. As anyone could imagine this was not an easy task to perform,
and after a few takes Ford lost his temper and screamed at Wayne calling him
every name he could think of and in the process humiliated Wayne. Wayne reacted
by cussing and screaming right back at Ford. Ford, knowing Wayne had played guard
at University of Southern California, responded by challenging him in a
blocking drill, and when Wayne placed his hand on the ground, Ford knocked him
on off balance and Wayne fell, face first into the dirt. Michael Munn, in, The Man Behind The Myth, picks up the story of Wayne’s response.
“Pappy
and everyone just laughed, but I was steaming mad. I said, ‘I’d like to try that again,’ so I got
down, but this time, I didn’t wait for him to make a move. I just suddenly drove into him and sent him flying
over tables and chairs, and there is horrified
silence from everyone who obviously thought, “that guy won’t work here again.’ But Pappy just laughed and said,
‘You’ll do alright, now get those fucking geese back in the pen and we’ll try again,”
Wayne,
for his part in all Ford’s shenanigans, remained incredibly driven. He kept
busy doing B films, sixty plus in the time between the “incident” on set with
Ford, and until Ford finally, for what reason, relented casting Wayne in his
breakout role . Wayne had a saying he used frequently that perhaps sheds a
light on his attitude early in his career on being relegated to the B movies.
Often Wayne would say, “A horse is a horse, it ain´t make a
difference what color it is.” So perhaps too, he felt, a movie is a movie, no
matter the level it was produced on.
Perhaps
the embarrassment of that moment that compelled Ford to, in essence blackball
Wayne from an earlier shot at better parts in better films. However history
reveals that Ford and Wayne became close friend, their bond as friends is
perhaps due in part to the long boat cruises they shared on board Fords yacht
down the California coast through Mexico, and parts of the Pacific. Riding
along on those trips were the likes of Henry Fonda, Ward Bond, all along on what
appeared to be nothing more than a drunken pleasure trips. Little did Ford’s
passengers know that Ford was spying, since the mid-thirties Ford had been
covertly photographing shorelines and shipping lanes for the American military,
in preparation for a war many in the War Department felt was inevitable.
Ford
was born John Feeney, in Portland Maine, the winter of 1894. Ford became a fine
student and while in high school became an accomplished footballer, earning the
nickname “Bull” for his fierce play in what was still a sport in its infancy.
Fords high school Principle, a man named Walter Jack, was instrumental in his
growth not only as a student but more so the man he would become. Jack was a
constant in encouraging Ford to go to college as well as to do whatever
necessary to leave Maine and explore the world.
Ford
followed his brother Francis to Hollywood arriving in the summer of 1914.
Francis had first worked as an actor, playing in hundreds of silent pictures
and vaudeville acts. By the time Ford arrived his brother was earning his keep
as a director, eventually becoming a prominent Hollywood director with
his own production company, 101 Bison. Ford started doing whatever he was able
to do, working as an assistant, handyman, stuntman and occasional actor, and
because he looked so much like Francis, Ford frequently doubled for his brother
and was given his first opportunity to act by Francis, who cast Ford in, The
Mysterious Rose, in
November 1914. Despite an often combative nature, within three years Ford had
progressed to become Francis' chief assistant and often worked as his
cameraman. By the time Ford was given his first break as a director, his Brother
Francis' profile had begun to decline and he ceased working as a director soon
afterward. This break came with the help of Harry Carey, and it was not long after
that Ford became a first rate director, earning in excess of three hundred
dollars per week. The problem was Carey was paid over two thousand per week and
Ford took exception to that. What looked like a perfect team quickly fell apart
over money and Ford landed at Fox studios at double the pay.
Saint
Patrick’s Day 1921, Ford met Mary McBride Smith, changing his life once again.
America was changing as well, with the passing of the Volstead Act, prohibition
had become law, and as Dan Ford, wrote describing the times in, Pappy: The Life of John Ford.
No
longer afraid of being branded with Nathanial Hawthorn’s scarlet letter women were throwing off their
corsets, smoking cigarettes, and dancing the Hesitation Waltz. It was the era of speakeasies, hip flasks, tin lizzes, white
mule and bath gin, (21)
Ford
fell hard, and in July, a few short months later he and Smith married. Sadly,
theirs was not a Norman Rockwell type marriage, though they stayed married
until his death, it was Ford’s affinity for women and the bottle that kept
their marriage from being anything more than a whirlwind love affair, chaining
them together, till death did them part.
What
brought these three components together to create what is renowned as one of
the great Westerns ever filmed is a story filled with intrigue, anger,
resentment, and true American grit. The relationship central to the film is
clearly the one including Ford and Wayne. Herb Fagen wrote of their relationship in, Duke We’re Glad to Know You, stating the
following.
Wayne
once said, “I worked on and off for years in menial jobs for him, as a prop boy, stunt man, bit player. I
developed a hero worship, which still exists, but when I got stuck
in three and a half day westerns, Ford passed me by without speaking. This went on for years; I mean he
wouldn’t look at me.
So
after eleven long years, finally in 1938, Ford asked Wayne to read a new
script, even asking Wayne if he knew of a young available actor who could
handle the role as Ringo Kid, in Stagecoach. It was in this manner that Ford
informed Wayne that he was the actor Ford wanted to star in the Stagecoach.
Ford seemingly felt that the message had not been sent clearly enough so as
filming began he proceeded to taunt and belittle Wayne during the weeks of
filming. Perhaps
this was the results of Ford’s sadistic personality or it could have been a
clever ploy by him to help the cast support Wayne, whichever it was the end
result was Wayne’s arrival on Hollywood’s biggest stage and the coming out
party for The Duke. It was this film that propelled The Duke, to the pinnacle
of the industry, and returned the Western, to the top of America’s box office.
Wayne kept working at his
relationship with Ford, including the many boat trips, as well as many outing
with Ford and his family. Wayne worked hard at his craft as an actor, even once
earlier in his career being forced to fill in as a dead man in the movie
“Deceivers” by director Harry Cohn, thus humiliating Wayne. All this is over an actress who is on the
set. Munn wrote remembering Wayne saying, “I knew dammed well that a
professional extra would have normally been used for that kind of work.” (32)
Along
the Arizona Utah border in the South West, a Cathedral rises to meet the
traveler. With mittens outstretched to direct the weary sojourners home, and the
Three Sister’s serve as a sandstone welcome committee, leading all safely in
the harbor, amid the shelter of the rocks. For a moment in time, one can slip
away from the cares of a twenty four seven world, slide into a cleft in the
rocks and find peace and harmony with nature.
On
a desert plain, where the night are cold and the days short, lays the most
filmed natural location in the entire world. Since the early nineteenth
century, the King on His Throne, along with the East
and West Mitten Buttes, and Merrick Butte, as well as the Totem Pole have
flashed across movie screens following all sorts of action supplied by men like
John Ford, John Wayne and their pals.
What was a simple piece of land so unvalued by the United
States, which much was given to Indians tribes like the Navaho and Paiute, as a reservation, a place where they could live in relative
peace and tranquility. Monument valley has become a truly historical movie set,
always at the ready for another director to advance the legend of this
marvelous, pristine and sacred ground.
Had it not been
for a man named Harry Goulding, much of what is now movie history might never
have happened. Goulding owned some land on the edge of the Navaho reservation
where in 1924 he established a trading post that is still in operation today.
In 1938 while the whole country was under the weight of the depression years,
Goulding made the decision of a lifetime, when hearing that a new western movie
was to be filmed in Arizona, he and his wife Mike, took photos of the valleys
beautiful natural topography, and headed to Hollywood intent on selling the
location as a movie site.
Perhaps Goulding felt that the Colorado Plateau, being largely made up of
deserts, with much of the Plateau's landscape being similar in both appearance
and geologic history, to the Grand Canyon, could very well be just what
directors and ticket buyers wanted to see. The nickname "Red Rock Country" described
the brightly colored rock left bare to the elements causing the dryness and
erosion. Natural
formations such as domes, fins, reefs, dry river beds,
natural
bridges,
and slot
canyons
are only some of the additional features seen on the Plateau that played
perfectly on the big screen.
Upon arriving at
John Ford’s Hollywood office Goulding was told Ford could not see him, not to
be deterred Goulding simply went to his truck in the parking lot, and returned
with his bedroll, and stated, I will wait. Within a few moments Ford was called
in and Goulding proceeded to sell Ford on the merits of the valley, even
committing to Ford that he could provide all the Indians he might need to
complete filming. The rest is cinematic history captured of untold movie reels,
advertizing clips and eight millimeter family vacation films.
Once
during filming, Goulding told Ford about a local Navajo medicine man, Hastiin
Tso, bragging that Tso could produce any type of weather Ford might want for
the picture. Fords response was to ask for snow. When the crew awoke the
following day, the valley was covered with a light dusting of snow. Tso was,
from that day forward, placed on Ford's payroll as "Weatherman." And
to this day visitors can walk through a portal in time and step into the set
of, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and the
lean-to used as the aging Cavalry Captain Nathan
Brittles, home away from home.
Stagecoach
changed the way Western movies were made as well as how they looked on the big
screen. Goulding though not a movie insider played a monumental role in the
genre in his role as keeper of the valley, and his money making enterprise.
Wayne changed the perception of a leading role and Ford’s stature exploded
within the industry. Each day as the sun rises on the valley, stage lights and
natural sets, new directors are attempting to cement their careers by bring
their scripts and plots to Monument Valley for a baptismal on this scared
site.
Big
John Wayne stood a meter or two behind the kneeling men, a gun in his hand.
Next to him stood his partner, a broad, short man with a crew cut, also with a
gun in his hand. The weapons were aimed at the backs of two kneeling men who
were muttering pathetically in Russian. Wayne could only assume they were
saying their last prayers to whatever god Soviet Communist prayed to. Again
Michael Munn, author of, The Man Behind
The Myth, picks up the story.
“On
the count of three” Wayne told Grant, and then came the sound the two Russians expected would be the last they
would here. After both guns fired it took a few seconds for the tow kneeling men, who were shaking
uncontrollably, to realize they were still
alive. (5)
And
so it was that long after his film days came to an end Wayne’s life was exposed
as more than ordinary. Aside from the hassle he received from men like the
incomparable director, Ford. The plots on his very life seemed surreal. Joseph
Stalin wanted him dead, while his successor, Nikita Khrushchev, who it has been said idolized Wayne, and while in
command had the order to have Wayne killed rescinded.
Ford
went on the direct Wayne in other films, uniting the two men forever. Today
Ford is still revered as the master of the western movie. His name is one of
legend and directors are still challenged by his masterpieces. Either by
imitation, remaking his films or simply shooting new and modern films at
Monument Valley forever keeping alive for all to see, the beauty of that magnificent
piece of American landscape.
Harry
and Mike are long gone. Still should the weary trail worn cowpoke, tourist or
wanderer want to visit the iconic valley, it is quite simple. The remnants of
their time in the valley remain. And high above the museum, etched into the
rock, through years of wind and rain, an Indian brave stands at sentry looking
over the Goulding’s lodge and the valley floor below, as if to guard forever
the sacred ground of his ancestors who roamed wild and free since the dawn of
time.
Emotional,
spiritual, and moving are simply trite words used to attempt to explain the
journey traveled. But these words must do for the time being, and as one called
to the altar of faith, there remains a call of the wild that must be answered,
and a return to this cathedral will always linger in my ear.
















Works Cited
Munn
Michael, John Wayne. The Man Behind The
Myth, Publish by New American Library. March 2004. Print.
Fagen
Herb. Duke We’re Glad to Know You, Kensington
Publishing Corporation, New York, NY. 1996. Print.
Dan Ford. Pappy:
The Life of John Ford. Published by De Capo Press. A subsidiary of Plenum
Publishing Company, New York, New York. Print

Musings

Dateline Monument Valley, Utah,
Goulding’s Lodge March 17, 2012
Musings
Day six was all about travel. Most of the day was spent on the road, although we did have stops at Goose neck and at Mexican Hat. Along the way we were treated to the sight of the Sleeping Ute. This is a mountain range in Northern New Mexico, that has the appearance of an Indian lying on his back with arms folded across his chest,, a beautiful site I must say. The landscape out here is unbelievable to say the least. And tomorrow our final day of the trip will be spent in Monument Valley.
The lodge we are staying at is the old Gouldin'g trading post. It was settled and built in the 1920’s and over the years has become a must stay if you are coming to the valley.
What was nine days ago a group of fifteen students, alumni and friends has now become a traveling family. Each one is unique unto themselves but have all become a sort of teammate, adding their bit of wisdom and skill as we travel. Names will be withheld to protect the innocent; however you must know a bit about us. We have among us an eating champion, she could beat Kobayashi at Nathans anytime, and one student brought her dentist along on the trip. We have sworn in our own sheriff, and deputies, we have our own traveling assistant, if we need a charger or need to be somewhere he makes it happen. I have never seen so many cases of water disappear so quickly and our semi pro photographer has taken just over one million photos. There has been the one who laid his room blanket on the ground to watch the stars above give the performance of a life time, and yes a skilled pilot who helped avoid disaster late one night when we almost landed in a pile of horse dung.
Our Lone Ranger has had lots of help from her (Tonto), she has collected at least a half a ton of rocks according to Tonto. And finally, one alumnus, who apparently did not have enough of the PEL, experience the first time that she came back for more, and drug her husband along for the fun. These folks have become my friends, and I will miss the time we have spent together..

Musings

Dateline Monument Valley, Utah,
Goulding’s Lodge March 17, 2012
Musings
Day six was all about travel. Most of the day was spent on the road, although we did have stops at Goose neck and at Mexican Hat. Along the way we were treated to the sight of the Sleeping Ute. This is a mountain range in Northern New Mexico, that has the appearance of an Indian lying on his back with arms folded across his chest,, a beautiful site I must say. The landscape out here is unbelievable to say the least. And tomorrow our final day of the trip will be spent in Monument Valley.
The lodge we are staying at is the old Gouldin'g trading post. It was settled and built in the 1920’s and over the years has become a must stay if you are coming to the valley.
What was nine days ago a group of fifteen students, alumni and friends has now become a traveling family. Each one is unique unto themselves but have all become a sort of teammate, adding their bit of wisdom and skill as we travel. Names will be withheld to protect the innocent; however you must know a bit about us. We have among us an eating champion, she could beat Kobayashi at Nathans anytime, and one student brought her dentist along on the trip. We have sworn in our own sheriff, and deputies, we have our own traveling assistant, if we need a charger or need to be somewhere he makes it happen. I have never seen so many cases of water disappear so quickly and our semi pro photographer has taken just over one million photos. There has been the one who laid his room blanket on the ground to watch the stars above give the performance of a life time, and yes a skilled pilot who helped avoid disaster late one night when we almost landed in a pile of horse dung.
Our Lone Ranger has had lots of help from her (Tonto), she has collected at least a half a ton of rocks according to Tonto. And finally, one alumnus, who apparently did not have enough of the PEL, experience the first time that she came back for more, and drug her husband along for the fun. These folks have become my friends, and I will miss the time we have spent together..

Mesa Verde Co.

. Dateline Durango Co.
Strater Hotel March 15th 2012

Mesa Verde
Day 6

I once wrote a piece about making movies. In it I wrote of the importance of the director. How his value could at times supersede the cast. But I did learn that as valuable as a director is, the cast held as an important role in whatever was accomplished.
I find that this principle fits bus tours as well. Dr Grigg's, our highly esteemed professor, and guide keeps raising the lever with each passing day. As we prepare for our final destination, Monument Valley, it feels as if the orchestra is tuned, and we as a group are about to hear Beethoven’s Symphony No.1 in C Major.
However how we arrived here is part of the story. We have a very talented and sweet bus driver named Kathy Baca, who handles this mammoth tour bus as though she were driving her grand kids to school in a minivan back home. Oh and she give it with the big boys, ask me when you see me, about the late night skill she has on a golf cart in the middle of New Mexico. Then I will finish the story about how a bumper sticker ended up on the back of her bus.
As for our travel today, you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow. Primarily because I am beat from the hike we had today down into a canyon to walk where the cliff dwellers from years gone by lived and worked.

Fire on the Mountian

Fire on the Mountain
Day 4 and 5


OK, so I was absent yesterday. That was due to the lack of Internet service being handy at the Ghost Ranch. For the most part yesterday was an off day. The ride from Taos, to the Ghost Ranch was scenic. Upon arrival we learned that this was a retreat, a place to unwind and disconnect from the every day toys we all are tied to. Ghost Ranch has a history that begins with two cattle thieves who wove tales of ghost and witches who lived in the valley. There was also a story of flying cows, that if anyone saw one of these cows, they would die. One of our honor students quickly deduced that the tale could have no merit. Your task is to determine why, and then message me your answer.

There are two takeaways from Ghost Ranch. The first was the sunset on this beautiful mountain. Now for me the sunset was quite normal, but what was breath taking was that a the sun slipped beneath the horizon the red rocks on the canyon walls behind us to the Southwest, were lit on fire as they reflected the sun, a stunning sight to say the least. The second takeaway was the light show after the sun set. Living on the East coast has its benefits, however if you are interested in seeing the heavens in all its splendor, your going to have to come west. Psalms 147 states the following; God determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name, and after last night I am completely at awe with his power and majesty. Clearly, the heavens declare the glory of God.








Tonight we are in Durango, Colorado, with plans to travel to the Mesa Verde.

Day Three: The Govenor is Dead, However the Food is Good

Day Three: Date line Taos, New Mexico 3/12 /2012 Today was our free day, and I slept until eleven o’clock. I decided again to avoid the places we have been told are the best. Plus tomorrow before we depart Taos we will be eating there. There being Michaels Kitchen. So I went to a dive, called Bent Street Deli. I chose lox and bagels, and it was just the start I needed, and since I had a few hours to kill I decided to see the Governor Bent house. Bent was from Taos and was elected governor of New Mexico. Since I am a bit tired I will give you the short version of his demise. Shortly after his election to office he decided to return home to Taos, to prepare the family for winter. History would show that winter had come early, and instead of a one and a half day trip home from Santa Fe, it took him three. Meanwhile back in Taos, the local sheriff had arrested and jailed some quite popular Indian citizens. When Bent crossed the county line he was met by a group of Indians who demanded the governor pardon them and release them all. Bent held his ground that night, and the following morning when he went to leave his home, he was met by the Taos war party. When Bent refused them again the violence began. The first shot took out the sheriff, who was posted on the roof of the jail. Soon thereafter the governor took a hit in the chest, the gun misfired and Bent was not seriously injured, however when he turned to reenter his house he was shot in the back as well as taking two arrows in the back. His family, including his sister whom was married to Kit Carson, tried to escape thru the back of the house, but never made it. Bent was dragged back into the front yard and scalped with a bowstring. Enough of the bad news for now, the rest of the after noon was filled with a scenic ride thru the high plains. This was filled with seeing more wild sheep as well as mule deer. It also included a viewing of the movie City Slickers, which was filmed at out next stop, Ghost Ranch. One thing that strikes me as we travel is the stark contrast between the east coast and the west. In City Slickers, the opening delivers the lives of the characters as stressed to the max, overworked and with serious family issues. And the west is portrayed as that place you can go to unload the burdens that have been unfairly it seems laid upon the shoulders of the men in the film. And wouldn’t you know it, the west with its big sky, wide open spaces and cowboys is the perfect remedy for healing. More on the movie tomorrow, but before I go I wanted to mention the great meal we had at Stella’s Italian Restaurant. And yes friend and family, in Taos, New Mexico, the Governor is dead but the food is good. Untill I return from my wanderings.

Day 2: Good Morning Mary, I am Here to See Your Son

Good Morning Mary, I am Here to See Your Son

Sunday March 12, 2012 Santa Fe, New Mexico

At our initial meeting for this trip, Professor Griggs, spoke to us about our visit to new Mexico, and I recall her saying how much this journey would or could if you are so inclined, become very much a spiritual pilgrimage. Little did I realize how real this would be for me..

After a real New Mexico breakfast of Enchiladas, eggs and green chili, I began my tour of town. I walked north to begin finding Water Ave, and the Museum of Art. Inside I was first lead into an old chapel, (#1) this one was a copy of one of Santa Fe’s first missions. The way I felt as I entered was much like I had interfered with an on going service, problem was, and there were well over forty empty pews. I though, clearly understood that my God was meeting me there. I stood silently as he prepared me for the day. Then moving on into the art gallery, I stood in awe of a painting, by James Drake, entitled Salon of 1000 souls, realizing that it captured me in the same manner that Peter Paul Rubin’s, Baroque collection at the Ringling does. I spoke with a docent who told me that Drake was in essence captured with Rubin’s work wanted his art to express much the same emotion as did Rubin’s. There was another fine exhibit that I like almost as equally, David Taylor, an accomplished photographer, had an exhibit on display here. He has photographed all 276 border monuments along the US-Mexican line. This presentation is as moving as it can be humorous. You really must see to understand the beauty. A quick trip through the Museum of Natural History, with stops at Saint Johns Bible Exhibit, where I learned to, Shikantaza, or as we would say, just sit, and then finished at the Palace of Governors.

From there I wandered over to The Cathedral Basilica Saint Francis,(#2) and it was here that for the first time in my life I went to a Mass service that was not for the dying. Then, on I went a few blocks to Saint John the Baptist,(#3) to see the vanishing staircase. This cathedral clearly does not play second to the staircase; it is a moving worship center without the benefit of the main attraction. And yes I was as surprised as you would to find a gift shop in this church, a first for me. With two o’clock coming and a bus ride ahead I finished a productive and moving tour of Santa Fe.

I will interject here that as I was on this walk that produced such incredible peace, I learned from a local mans advice, how to deal with altitude sickness. With his and my wife’s advice I was able to stem the tide early enough that though I did suffer some, it was under control by late afternoon. I am so fortunate to be traveling with my group as they as well have lent their support and aid.

On our ride to the town of Taos, New Mexico, our next stop, we made a stop at Chimayo. I know it can be hard to find words to describe this place, however I will try. Chimayo is another of God’s cathedrals. It is a place in the mountains of New Mexico where the locals have carved out a place of worship, healing and peace for all who choose to come. They say that should you decide to enter the church, and I did, (#4) one is able to enter below the alter, and collect some red dirt, that has healing powers. I will simply state that I believe strongly that it is the Faith demonstrated by the traveler that moves God’s hand. This was the crowning moment of the day for me.

God was not finished with me yet. Those who know me well know of my love of wildlife. Not in hunting but in the rare moments where I am able to see some of his beauty around me. So to finish the day, we stopped just seven miles from Taos, our destination, and walked across the Rio Grande River on a bridge. While crossing I noticed something moving about half way down the gorge, and there, though small, we were treated to a herd of Big Horn Sheep, grazing on a ledge, over 600 feet up the side of the canyon wall. When I relayed this to our bus driver, Kathy, she said in all the times her groups have crossed the bridge, none before have ever reported seeing sheep, or any other wildlife.

I am content with day two and look forward to day three….