A day in St George

Our geological adventure is underway, although we haven't travelled any distance so far.

After breakfast in the College Inn lobby our morning began with an engaging lecture by Dr Douglas D Adler, former president and professor emeritus at Dixie State College, whose presentation ranged from the design of the Morman community's irrigation system (which still works) to the various forces affecting current settlement in the area. He followed his talk with a field trip to the St George Tabernacle (a masterpiece of architecture), a pioneer cabin (smaller than our kitchen at home), the St George Social Hall/Opera House (where in the basement we saw the mechanism by which the main floor could be lowered on the stage end to make the transition from social hall to theater -- seen here to the above left) and the Old Washington County Courthouse. And, Geri showed off her driving stuff with a very neat U-turn in the middle of town! The morning ended back at the College Inn with Marc's first geology lecture -- where he promised that we would, by the end of the trip, "get it," since he planned to repeat everything 71 times.

The afternoon began immediately with lunch back on the Dixie State campus, this time in the Red Rock Cafe with the students, great and abundant food in a bright, cheerful, positive space. In fact, it was so uplifting a space that I found myself, while chewing, having sort of drifting thoughts of being back in school. Didn't last ...

This photograph was made from the back of the Gardner Student Center looking toward St George proper. Don't focus only on the couple in the foreground. Check out those clouds, and allow yourself to imagine ominous music beginning to waft through the air.

Then, we set out to take a look at some of the geological formations Marc had talked about before lunch. First stop: a church parking lot north of St George for views of cinder cones and the Pine Valley Mountains (below), an example of a laccolith (an uplift caused by the intrusion of molten igneous rock between layers of sedimentary rock), one of the largest in the world.



Our second stop: Snow Canyon State Park. By the time we were off the bus in this georgeous canyon the ominous weather fell upon us, lightening strikes rapid and close, the rain heavy. Although sad not to be able to scramble over the rocks all afternoon, we were pleased with Chrystal and Marc's plan B.

First, a visit to the next canyon to the west, Padre Canyon, site of Tuacahan Center for the Arts.

What a location for a 2000-seat amphitheater, not to mention a highschool for the performing arts.

And, second, a leisurely drive through Kayenta, a desert community west of St George, featuring sustainable homes and Coyote Gulch Art Village -- all set in the signature red rocks of the region.

Supper at Chuck-a-Rama (better than the name intimates, I promise) ended this very long day. I am remembering a statement in the post-registration packet we received -- "Please note: There is very little free time during this program." If today is any measure, they were telling the truth. I am already a bit saggy and am hoping that sleep comes without a fight and lasts all night.

Dixie ... in Utah?

We met our group late this afternoon as we boarded the coach (a new Prevost H3-41, very swish) for the short drive to dinner in a private dining room at the Gardner Student Center on campus at Dixie State College of Utah. While not everyone has arrived yet, there will be 36 Road Scholars on this trip. Our guides for the next ten days are engaging folks: Marc Deshowitz, a retired geologist with Shell, is the instructor; Chrystal Deshowitz, married to Marc, is coordinating the trip (both shown here in an image "borrowed" from Facebook); Geri Bentley will drive the coach -- and is being referred to as "wagon master."

During the introductory program back at the College Inn following dinner, we learned -- first thing -- the "why" of the term Dixie in this part of the world (along with some introductory geology, of course). It seems that when the Mormons established the City of St George in 1861, the Civil War was beginning and cotton was in short supply. One of the intentions was that the Mormon community in Utah be as self supporting as possible. The prophet, Joseph Smith, determined that St George would grow cotton in order to provide fabric for the whole Morman community, there being water in southern Utah and the Mormans knowing how to irrigate efficiently. So, St George became known as Utah's Dixie. After the war ended and the American south began producing cotton again, St George's farmers turned to growning alfalfa, but the name had taken hold.

Further and more recently, two additional factors are keeping the term an appropriate one: St George has the warmest climate in all of Utah, bordering on the Mojave Desert to the south as it does. And, because of the mild climate St George is a fast growing retirement area with golf a favorite activity.

Desert rain

Well, Tal has always said that when he visits the desert it rains.

Rumbles of thunder and the flickers of lightening which penetrated the blinds in our room woke me during the pre-dawn hours of the night, but the day dawned warm and sunny. Our breakfast was great, at the Bear Paw Cafe, highly recommended by the folks at the College Inn. Two meals in a row of eating slowly, not needing to get on the road, both of them at actual tables.

St George is a lovely town, our morning walk to breakfast a confirmation of what we had seen during our dusk and nighttime strolls to and from supper. Clean; set out on a grid; lots of grass and interesting art, mostly sculpture; strong architecture, rather New England in flavor. Since our group is scheduled to check in between 3:00 and 6:00 this afternoon, we had every intention of taking advantage of "A Stroll through History: Historic St George Downtown Walking Tour" during the day. But, first, a nap and some reorganizing of our travel gear.

It's now 11:00AM and it's pouring, a deluge. In the desert. I just heard one of the staff say that the forecast calls for rain the next four days.

No walking tour for us. Tal's batting a thousand, it seems.

This photograph was taken right after breakfast in the St George town square. The back corner of the Mormon Tabernacle (not the one with the choir) can been seen on the right behind the fountain and the area's signature sandstone bluffs immediately to the tabernacle's left. And, check out those clouds ...

An arrival ... at last

Our destination: St George, Utah! What a welcome sight the College Inn was late this afternoon.

The last leg of our Utah-bound journey, following the stop at Navajo Bridge, was entertaining in many ways. Here's an annotated list:

Precipitation. Since making our way through the pass at Albuquerque yesterday we watched clouds form and disperse and form again in the western sky, the sun faithfully shining on us. By mid-day today it was obvious that there was water in those clouds and some anger. Eventually they became heavy enough that, in the distance, they produced vivid lightening and curtains of dark rain -- that stayed suspended, not reaching the ground.

The unassuming turn off at Jacob Lake to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. So tempting, but not yet ... not yet. Making that turn will come some ten days from now at the end of the trip, a grand finale to our Road Scholar wanderings.

A time change at the Arizona/Utah state line. Arizona doesn't participate in any of the daylight savings foolishness the rest of us do. I've heard it said that daylight savings makes about as much sense as cutting the top off a blanket, sewing that piece on the bottom and calling the blanket longer.

Towns at the state border. This particular location boasts sister cities, Colorado City on the Arizona side and Hildale in Utah, straddling the line. They're rather renowned in that they're actually a single polygamous compound.

The descent into Hurricane. With a long 7% grade of switchbacks, narrow road and run-away truck ramps arriving in Hurricane is an impossible to miss event. Tal drove and I helped -- with an occasional "oh my" and white knuckles gripping the seat on either side of my knees. According to the map, getting to Hurricane also means one has left the Colorado Plateau. Whew.

All was ready for us when we arrived … the door code worked, the keys to our room were where we had been told they would be, our room was more than welcoming. After a short rest we went in search of supper, finding our way, sort of mistakenly, to an exquisite restaurant, the Painted Pony, in our travel-weary, rumpled, bleary-eyed state – at the beginning of a booked Sunday evening. We were seated anyway, kindly, and had the most wonderful meal I can remember. My only regret is not having had the camera with me, so beautiful was Tal’s French onion soup – served in a large hollowed out onion, the melted cheese running down its sides, a shaft of sunlight falling across Tal’s place setting. Absolute perfection.

Day Four
Three States: New Mexico, Arizona, Utah
454 miles