Tag Archives: memoir

Dinosaur National Monument – Where Jurassic Park Doesn’t Come to Life

August 17, 2014

Today I visited Dinosaur National Monument. It’s part of what they call the “Dinosaur Diamond” in the upper northeast corner of Utah and northwest corner of Colorado. This is an area in which a large number of dinosaur fossils have been found, mostly thanks the combination of mountain-building forces and erosion, which led to the exposure of previously buried layers of rock.

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But even for this fossil-filled area, Dinosaur is stunning for the number and variety of dinosaur bones that have been found there. While they do have some reconstructed skeletons on display…

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… the main feature of the Quarry Exhibit Hall is a giant wall of rock in which literally hundreds of bones are embedded and clearly visible.

Dinosaur Wall

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You can even touch the ones you can reach; evidently they aren’t harmed by the oil from your fingers, as so many relics are.

Dinosaur Don't Touch

There’s a rather sad story behind this amazing paleontological find. Evidently the site used to be a riverbed. During a drought, many dinosaurs died in the area. In the course of subsequent flooding events, their skeletons were covered with mud and sedimentation and eventually fossilized. Later they were exposed by the uplifting of the Uintas Mountains, which caused the rock that had been beneath the ground to be pushed up out of it, leading to paleontologist Earl Douglass’ amazing discovery back in 1909.

You can experience a bit of what Douglass did by taking the Fossil Discovery Trail, which is an outdoor trail that walks you through various rock formations in which, if you study carefully, you can find exposed fossils! Not as plentiful, and you have to search pretty hard to see them, because they certainly aren’t obvious. Their colors blend perfectly with the rocks, which I guess is a part of the process of fossilization, but if you look closely, you can pick them out, because the shapes of bones are there, and also, they tend to be a bit shinier. It’s tricky, though. I can’t even spot the one I found in this photo – can you?

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Dinosaur is a very neat place – well worth the visit and the searing desert heat. But I must confess that the rarest fossil I found was actually in nearby Vernal. I mean, dinosaur bones are one thing, but I never dreamed of seeing one of these again:

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If you would like to see more photos from my cross-country travels, please follow my new Pinterest account at http://www.pinterest.com/lorilschafer/.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

Arches National Park – Videos

My visit to the amazing Arches National Park near Moab, Utah.

A view of the Windows Arches – and the gloriously full parking lot of people waiting to see them!

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If you would like to see more videos from my cross-country travels, please check out my new YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCb5RugrJMSHh6_4hkgHmkMA.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

Living and Working on the Road

What with all the pictures, you might think I’m one of those people who is a fanatic with a camera. Not so. In fact, before my trip to Oxnard last month, I had fewer than fifty photos total of all of my travels from the past twenty years. I had never taken a photo with my phone, and never shot a video with my digital camera. Since when does a phone take pictures? Since when does a photo camera make videos? Why didn’t anyone inform me about this?

I guess I’m a bit – by which I mean years – behind the times. These are the first two videos I recorded, and boy, does it show! Not only was I unaware just how shaky “handheld” would be, I also evidently kept forgetting that in video mode, you can’t just turn the camera sideways for portrait view. Whoops.

Well, they may not win any Oscars, but in the interest of not messing with my trip record, I decided to leave them as is. The first is an exploration of my new home office – the cab of my truck. The second shows how I’ve been utilizing voice recognition software to “write” on the road. They may not be pretty, but I hope they’re at least informative.

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If you would like to see more videos from my cross-country travels, please check out my new YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCb5RugrJMSHh6_4hkgHmkMA.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

Join Me Under the Arches! Photos from Arches National Park in Utah.

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Sheep Rock – Notice the resemblance.

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Courthouse Towers.

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This one reminds me of the formations in the Valley of the Gods. He sure looks like he’s watching over us, doesn’t he?

 

Window Rock

Windows Arch – with people. Lots of people.

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I don’t think this one has a name, but I’d call it “Poisonous Mushroom Rock.”

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This looks like a playground – best one ever!

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Is is just me, or do I have kind of a Mona Lisa thing going on here?

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Sometimes it’s the striations that make the rock…

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Tunnel Arch(es)

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View from the Visitor Center. Makes you want to climb the mountain, doesn’t it?

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If you would like to see more photos from my cross-country travels, please follow my new Pinterest account at http://www.pinterest.com/lorilschafer/.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

Hmmm… Maybe I Don’t Need Four Pairs of Shoes.

Needless to say, it takes careful planning to prepare for several weeks of life on the road. As it happens, I drive a pickup truck – a 2011 Ford Ranger – one of the last ones ever made. Why Ford stopped making them, I can’t even guess, because it’s a great little truck. I bought my first one used back in 1998, and have been driving one ever since. In fact, this is my fourth. That green camper shell you’ll see below has been moved twice already! I must say it goes better with the gray than it did with the white.

Anyway, after running away from home in a station wagon – which was not the most comfortable vehicle to live in, although not the worst, either – I learned my lesson and upgraded to larger vehicles. There was, of course, my old ’69 Dodge, which will forever remain in my heart as my ultimate favorite (no offense, Ranger!). I loved that van so much that when its drive shaft broke somewhere in Illinois back in 1997, I had one custom-crafted at a machine shop to the tune of a thousand dollars – which was a giant pile of money for me in those days and, in fact, still is.

But alas, the day finally came when the van needed a part that no junkyard in New England could supply, and I had to face facts – the van was dead. I wept without shame when they hauled it away. I still weep when I remember the day.

The Rangers, however, have been great. They’re small trucks, so it’s no struggle getting in and out of them, no problem parking, and, since I switched to the four-cylinder, the gas mileage is pretty decent, too – 20 to 22 city and up to 30 mpg highway. And you sure couldn’t beat the price tag – this one I bought for a mere $13K. Thirteen thousand dollars for a brand new truck! Where are you going to find a price like that anymore? Of course, it’s easier when you don’t care about the bells and whistles. My windows roll down with a handle. My doors unlock with a key. My steering operates with arm muscles, as does my transmission. I’m all manual, baby!

And although I don’t take road trips much anymore, I have found it comforting, these last couple of decades, to own a vehicle that’s good for travelling – just in case. And here we are at last – case.

However, somewhere in my memory – my last major road trip was in 2003 – I suppose I must have re-worked my perception of just how much space is really in the back of this truck. Looks plenty roomy, doesn’t it?

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Of course, once you add the microfiber top for me to lie on (somehow my hips are not quite as tolerant of the flatbed as they used to be), and a couple of comforters for the cold nights that will come later in the season, half of that space is gone.

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Now back when I was a professional eBay seller specializing in rare and out-of-print videos, and spent months on the road each year buying inventory, I used to actually build the bed on top of video boxes. Really. I assembled a collection of uniformly sized boxes from distributors – they were about 2′ by 1′, as I recall – filled them with videotapes, and laid down right on top of them. Once I bought so much inventory that I even tried a second layer, but that was a bit claustrophobic for my taste, and I ended up spending my last few nights sleeping in my front seat, which, I confess, truly, truly stunk. Not this time, though, because my passenger seat is packed tight, and this is before I even set up my computer and other equipment:

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Needless to say, I had to do some re-packing before I could actually lie down that first night in the truck.

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I made it work for that one night, but boy, what a hassle! After a couple of days I realized that while my packing system was very logical – I’d naturally packed “like with like” – it was not really the most efficient use of space. It made far more sense to build the lower layer of my luggage out of stuff I needed less often – such as my spare books and warm clothes – than to insist on keeping them where, in my sense of organization, they “ought” to go. It was with great sadness that I ultimately decided that surface repacking was not going to solve the problem, and instead I ended up emptying the whole truck and starting over. It was hours of work, but I’ve been much happier with the results, although it is still pretty crowded, as you can see here:

Next time I’ll share the view of the cab with all of my modern conveniences assembled around me. Feel free to take a sneak peek via my new YouTube channel here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCb5RugrJMSHh6_4hkgHmkMA. Just please don’t cry over my less-than-professional cinematography. I’m getting better, I swear!

Nevada Landscapes

Nevada, being largely desert, is one of the emptier states. Many of the cities and towns actually lie on the borders with other states – taking advantage of the built-in markets for gambling, which is legal and widespread in Nevada.

But once you leave the gambling meccas of Reno, Las Vegas, and the like, most of the rest of the state looks like this:

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Bare brown hills…

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Bare brown mountains…

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And bare beige hills and mountains. The color – or lack thereof – really stands out here, as becomes very apparent when you move on to redder areas like Arizona or Utah. Earth tones seem to permeate the atmosphere itself.

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And even the greens of the sagebrush and other plants appear muted, almost blending into the desert floor.

Nevada Landscape 2

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If you would like to see more photos from my cross-country travels, please follow my new Pinterest account at http://www.pinterest.com/lorilschafer/.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

Reno – The Biggest Little City in the World!

Reno Biggest Little City

Got a late start my first day out – very late. Wound up spending the night in Reno. Ah, good ol’ Reno – The Biggest Little City in the World!

The El Dorado

The El Dorado Casino. Strange, but I’ve never struck gold there!

Streets of Reno

The quiet streets of Reno on a Monday night.

Reno Sidewalk

Reno sidewalk awash in the glow of a casino. Amazing how blinking lights can beautify a city!

Pawn Shop

An all-too-common sight in gambling towns – the pawn shop.

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If you would like to see more photos from my cross-country travels, please follow my new Pinterest account at http://www.pinterest.com/lorilschafer/.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

The Loneliest Road – Photos

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How wonderful it is to be completely alone sometimes…

Telephone Poles

Just me and the telephone poles…

Rock "Graffiti" Along Highway 50

Rock “graffiti” along Highway 50 in Nevada. There’s miles and miles of it – “signatures” assembled from dark rocks on the desert sand. What a creative way of leaving your mark! I considered making one of my own – but I thought this question mark spoke pretty well for me…

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It was a dark and stormy night on The Loneliest Road – with no cars in sight.

Highway 50 Sign

I spent my last night in Nevada in a mid-sized (for Nevada) town called Ely, which is at the eastern end of The Loneliest Road. I slept in the parking lot of a casino, which are often good places to sleep because they have round-the-clock traffic and it’s fairly easy to escape notice, at least in low-security venues. This one also had a readily-accessible bathroom – and the above sign in its front lobby.

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If you would like to see more photos from my cross-country travels, please follow my new Pinterest account at http://www.pinterest.com/lorilschafer/.

For updates on my forthcoming memoir The Long Road Home, which I am drafting during this road trip, please follow my blog or subscribe to my newsletter.

Heads of the Line: Flash Fiction in Word Riot

My short-short “Heads of the Line” has been published in Word Riot. My commentary follows.

http://www.wordriot.org/archives/7084 (print version)

http://hwcdn.libsyn.com/p/a/b/1/ab110a9430fb41a6/20140715-schafer.mp3?c_id=7388729&expiration=1405960069&hwt=c671a6151875883dbc45283362dbfd2d (Podcast with my commentary)

As it turned out, I was unable to attend college my first fall after high school. My status as an unemancipated minor made me ineligible for the financial aid I’d been expecting, which necessitated a quick – by which I mean long, arduous, and painful – change of plans. I did eventually land a minimum-wage job at a bakery, and being now a veritable miser with money, by the following spring I had three hundred dollars saved. I decided to invest this massive sum in a trip to Alaska, where I had been assured by all manner of people who had never been there that you could earn colossal columns of cash working in the canneries. “Big money!” and “Signing bonus!” and “Free room and board!” the newspaper ads all promised. What they didn’t tell you, of course, was that the people who earned the “signing bonuses” and “free room and board” were those who went to work on the boats themselves – and that the reason they made “big money” was because the living conditions were horrible, the job was tough and scary as hell, and they worked twenty hours a day whenever there was a catch. I opted for the more palatable version, which was not actually a cannery, but a fish packing plant –several notches further down on the dirty jobs scale.

It wasn’t a bad job, all things considered. Yes, you worked fourteen hour days whenever there was a delivery, but since that was when you made your overtime pay, nobody complained too much about that. And yes, your feet and hands were constantly cold and cramped – it was months before I could comfortably hold a hairbrush again, and it took more than a year for all of the feeling to finally come back into my fingertips. On the plus side, you got to camp for free on site, and my particular facility even had an indoor bathroom and hot showers – a true rarity in those parts. To help pass the time, they cranked up the radio on the plant’s loudspeakers and let us listen to it all day – the unfortunate part being that the only station that came in clearly only played Top 40. Can you even begin to guess how many times a day a Top 40 radio station plays the same songs? So many that eventually you adapt and learn to enjoy it. You have to. Otherwise you go crazy!

I never got my big money – in fact, shortly before I was due to come home, my station wagon died, and I ended up having to spend what seemed like an eternity of days riding a bus all the way back to California. I wound up with forty bucks in my pocket and the satisfaction of knowing that even if I never travelled again, at least I’d been to Alaska, which is so unbelievably worth seeing that I’m not even going to begin to talk about it now. And a good thing, too, because here we are, twenty years later, and I’ve yet to have the chance to go again. It’s the one place I want to make sure I revisit while I can still travel, which is why I’m making it the primary destination for my road trip this summer, during which I’ll be drafting my second memoir, The Long Road Home.

I don’t think I’m going to go searching for employment, though. Somehow I think I may be past the age for factory work, particularly when it involves fourteen-hour days, Top 40 radio, and thousands of pounds of bloody, frozen fish. But who knows – perhaps when I get up there I’ll be inspired to try it, for old time’s sake.

Just don’t put me on the header.

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“Heads of the Line” is one of the stories featured in my autobiographical short story and essay collection Stories from My Memory-Shelf: Fiction and Essays from My Past (only $2.99 Kindle, $6.99 paperback). To learn more about it, please visit the book’s webpage or subscribe to my newsletter.

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“Fog Line” Or How I Became a Victim of Vehicular Profiling

My short-short “Fog Line” has been published on Every Writer’s Resource:

http://www.everywritersresource.com/shortstories/fog-line-lori-schafer/

“Fog Line” is one of my odder travel stories. I was actually somewhat surprised that I was able to get it published it as an individual piece, because the concept of vehicular profiling seemed to go straight over a lot of reader’s heads. In fact, the first editorial team that reviewed it responded with some rather biting criticism, including the comment “All that and he didn’t even ask for a date?? Where’s the story?!”

I loved that Dodge Van, I truly did, but, ancient and unusual as it was, it was a veritable magnet for attention from law enforcement. In my freshman year of college, I worked graveyard loading trucks for a shipping company, which meant driving home at four o’clock in the morning five days a week. I once got pulled over three nights in a row, with a new excuse from a different police officer every time. At least that sheriff in North Dakota was nice – and honest – about it. But then, he seemed to be motivated more by curiosity than suspicion.

Maybe it didn’t make for the most relatable story, but if nothing else, at least I learned what a fog line was.

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“Fog Line” is one of the stories featured in my autobiographical short story and essay collection Stories from My Memory-Shelf: Fiction and Essays from My Past (only $2.99 Kindle, $6.99 paperback). To learn more about it, please visit the book’s webpage or subscribe to my newsletter.

Fog