Doug Dandridge's Blog, page 6

Dragoncon 2017. Day 3: Sunday, September 3rd.

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Starship Showdown panel, with Van Allen Plexico, Sue Phillips and myself.

I had planned to stay through Monday as usual, so I didn’t know this was going to be my last day. The breakfast room was full, about half the people there football fans. FSU fans were kind of dejected, not just from losing the game, but losing their all-star quarterback for the year. I talked with some people from Birmingham, where I had lived, then went back to my room to get ready.

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Cosplayers in the Hyatt lobby.

Again the nice walk to the Hyatt. I didn’t have my first panel until 4 PM, so I took my time. Went to a panel I wasn’t on, then took pictures. I ate lunch, this time in the food court, finally found a table, and took pictures of some of the more interesting costumes. Talked to a couple of people in the Embassy hallway, including Will Wight once again, and then it was time for my first panel.

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The Barckets.

Starship Showdown is not really a panel as much as a contest. Van Allen Plexico presided over the event. Myself, Sue Phillips, and an audience member picked just before the start were the judges. Van took suggestions from the audience as to which ships would compete, and two out of three panel members had to agree. Most were from TV, books and movies, though one was from anime. I don’t think any of the video game mentions made it in. Ringo’s Troy was not eligible as it had won last year. We had the Enterprise E, Defiant, Borg Cube, the Medusa from Honor Harrington, something from Farscape, the Battleship Yamato, and the White Star. We went through the columns, ship against ship, audience members making their cases for one or the other. I think we only had two that weren’t unanimous. In the end the White Star won, and it will not be eligible for next year’s contest. Love that panel, a lot of fun, and I hope to be on it again next year.

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The captain in his boat.

More conversations out in the hall, dinner, then it was time for my big panel, the one I was to moderate.  Basic Military Science Fiction. Going in I still wasn’t sure what it was about, so I decided to approach it by asking the panel members why they wrote military scifi, and go from there. I had six panel members, a large herd of cats. This was the third panel I had moderated. Two years ago at LibertyCon I did a ‘Do You Have To Be A Combat Veteran to Write Combat’ panel with seven other members. This year, again at LibertyCon, I did the “Favorite Space Opera’ panel with four other members. So I wasn’t totally inexperienced, but this was DragonCon, and my performance here might mean more moderator slots in the future. And the sound system didn’t work, while we were playing to a full room.

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Cosplayers.

To my right was John Hemry, better known as Jack Campbell, the author of the Lost Fleet series, and a writer whose work I loved. At the end was Kacey Ezell, a Baen author and someone I had been in an anthology with, who was an Air Force helicopter pilot. Other panel members included Mike Massa, Evan Currie, Marc Edelheit and J A Sutherland. Everyone introduced themselves. We had the helicopter pilot,  ex-Naval special ops, the Navy surface warfare officer, and a couple who weren’t in the military. I didn’t give my experience, so I chimed back in to say I was a ground pounder. Maybe not as exalted a position as the others, but one that gave a different perspective to the military. A couple of panel members had not been in the military, but loved to read military scifi, so that is what they wrote.

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The Basic Military Science Fiction Panel, with six successful authors.

The panel went well, and I think everyone had a good time, panelists and audience. I had a moment where one of the panelists tried to take over the panel, and it could have been a discussion on the Roman Empire. I got it back under control, kudos for me. Everyone got a chance to talk, even me (I believe the moderator should get equal time, and not just be the question generator). Afterwards a lot of people came up, and I talked with a couple of fellow ground pounders and gave away some cards and a zip drive with the complete Exodus series. I think I did well. I guess I’ll find out next year if the people at DragonCon agree.

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Mike Massa joins the panel, raising the number to seven.

Afterwards, I walked back to my hotel, talking with a fan most of the way, and giving him another zip drive of the entire Exodus series. I had planned to go to another couple of panels the next day, but on waking up in the morning I decided I had accomplished enough and was ready to go home. The Alabama and FSU fans had been replaced at breakfast by Tennessee fans, since their game was that night.

I’ve always had problems driving home from Cons. I’m tired, and I drive through my normal nap time. I sing loudly, drink lots of caffeine, rub ice on my face, or even slap myself. And still find myself at the edge of nodding off on the way. This time, leaving earlier, that wasn’t a problem. And I saved the $30 for parking in the garage next to the Hilton so I could go to the morning panels.

So, DragonCon this year, what did I learn? There was more to be gained in talking with people and networking than in frantically running from panel to panel. Meeting with people can include eating in real restaurants, which means no walking around looking for tables. And panels don’t just come to you. That was what I had thought. You get Attending Professional Status and the panels will just come. Now I know to have a strategic plan in place, knowing which track directors to contact with my resume’, suggestions to make, etc. I will try to get the Marriott Marquis next year, to again be in the center of things, but the Residence Inn is a viable alternative. Next year will be my sixth DragonCon, meaning, what? I’m definitely still not an old timer, but I am  a veteran.

Filed under: Conferences, eBooks, Military, Writing Tagged: DragonCon, Evan Currie, Jack Campbell, John Hemry, Kacey Ezell, Mike Massa, van allen plexico

Day 2: Saturday, September 2nd.

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Parade and crowd.

Big day. It was parade day, and I had scheduled lunch with Chris Kennedy. Originally we had talked about having it in the food court, but things worked out differently and much better. Breakfast again at the Residence Inn, this time much more crowded due to the FSU and Alabama fans. Then up to the room for a shower and to get ready. On the way I ran into Chris Kennedy and his lovely wife, Sheellah, right outside the sports bar restaurant with the Braves sign. We agreed to meet here after the parade, and I headed up to the parking garage I was hoping would give a good view of the spectacle to come.

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Parade marchers.

I got a great view of the parade. There was no room near the front, but I found a spot with some short people I could stand behind. The parade was distant, but with a 60X telephoto lens everything zoomed close. I talked with an Alabama fan who was there for the game, but had decided the parade was worth a look. As usual the parade was spectacular. And after the streets were full of people. One final spectacle was the sweeping of the street by motorcycle police, moving people back onto the sidewalks. It was like trying to part the sea, and as soon as they passed people again flooded into the street. Fun.

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Saw these good sisters earlier in the day. Must have been some kind of church gathering.

We met at the restaurant, and Chris and Sheellah were already there, holding down a table. Soon Mark showed up, then someone I’d never met, Will Wight, who had sold 400K books online. He had even more of a recognition problem than I did, since he was also an attending professional, and hadn’t gotten even one panel. Joy Wandrey came in, along with a friend of hers, and suddenly we had seven people at the table. I had planned to buy lunch, but hadn’t figured on this many. When the check came Will grabbed it, and I decided to let the guy who had sold twice as many books as I had have it.  I had wanted to talk business with Chris, who had an out of this world business model. I was also hoping to ask about writing a book in his universe. I didn’t get to talk as much as I wanted, though the conversation at lunch was great. Did get to discuss some matters, and altogether I was very happy with the outcome of the lunch.

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Lunch on Saturday. Right side, myself, Will Wight, didn’t remember her name. Other side, Chris Kennedy, Sheellah Kennedy, Mark Wandrey, Joy Wandrey.

Afterward, I headed back to the Hyatt, hoping to catch Kevin J. Anderson’s panel, New York Times Bestsellers. I had wanted to say hello in person at least once this con. I had said hi to Rebecca Moesta, his wife, earlier. The line around the Hyatt was unreal, and I thought that boded ill for getting in to see him. And the next day he had a panel in the same room, same time, with Jim Butcher, so forget about that one as well. Instead, I went to the Baen Roadshow, and found out it was two hours, when I only had one hour to spare, or so I thought. I left early for my mentoring session with Elizabeth Moon, and got there to find out that I had gotten the times wrong. I felt bad about it, until later I saw that there were plenty of hopefuls lined up hoping to get a slot, so her time didn’t go to waste. I saw several friends in the hall, all with stories of breaks they were getting. That was cool. I had been told at earlier cons that I was an inspiration because I actually sold books. Now a lot of those same people were getting their foot in the door and making it.

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It’s a trap.

One more panel, then I sat and talked with James Palmer, and Robert Sawyer sat with us and talked. Robert thought he had seen an announcement for my book with Arc Manor in Locus. I was excited. Turned out he was mistaken, and the next day he said it might have been one of my own blog posts. Robert is an interesting guy, and it was always a pleasure to talk with him. Got some time with Bill Fawcett, and some more conversation with Robert. Then it was time for meeting Raphyel Jordan, who was supposed to have supper with me.

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Sith warrior.

I had met Raphyel at Superstars, and we had always met for a meal at DragonCon after that. I was sitting in front of the Hyatt when a tall black man with dreads came walking out. I thought it was Raphyel, and I yelled at him, but he didn’t stop. So I was up to chase after him. That was a losing proposition, as he was young and striding, and I had a cane. Finally lost him, last sight was two blocks ahead on the other side of the street. So I called him up and found that he was still on the dealers floor at America’s Mart. When I met with him I was still amazed at how closely that stranger had resembled him, to skin tone, dreadlocks and head scarf.

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Uh oh. Batman coming for me in front of the Hyatt.

Raph talked about the podcast he was running and I asked him if I could be on it. Sure thing. They were booked up at the moment, but would probably have some openings about the time Kinship War was due at the publishers. Perfect. After eating I wandered back to the hotel, to see my college team collapse in their first game. And so went the second day of DragonCon.

Up next; DragonCon: Sunday, 3rd September.

Coming soon: Thirty Days of Giveaways.

Filed under: Fantasy, Kindle, science Fiction, self publishing, Writing Tagged: Batman, Chris Kennedy, DragonCon, DragonCon Parade, Hyatt, Mark Wandrey, Raphyel Jordan, Robert Sawyer

DragonCon 2017. Day 1: Friday, September 1st.

I had planned to have this part out last weekend, but we had a hurricane, I had a lot of friends in South Florida in the path, and it was looking like it might even hit me up in North Florida. No concentration for work. Fortunately, all of the friends came out okay, some lost power, most have it back. And the storm completely missed Tallahassee. I didn’t lose power or internet. In fact, where I lived there were even any winds. It was like an ordinary rainstorm, and I’ve been through a dozen thunderstorms that were more violent so far this year. But on with the narrative of DragonCon.

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The lobby of the Hyatt early Friday. Not full up, yet.

Got up early enough that I could eat breakfast and shower. Then headed to the Hyatt. It was about a five block walk, not too bad, and there were a lot of people with DragonCon badges on the route. Saw the first costumes, nothing too fancy. That would wait until I got into the Hyatt. The Hyatt was not too crowded, yet. I made my way down to the basement level, to where Jody Lynn Nye’s Writers Workshop was meeting and waiting for the speaker. Unfortunately, the speaker didn’t make it, but Bill Fawcett filled in and gave us the rundown on agents and publishers. Still, it was good to see Jody and Bill.

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The food court. Not full yet. Saturday it would become impossible.

After the workshop I ran up to the Embassy rooms and approached Nancy Knight, who had promised me a panel if I saw her first thing Friday. She asked me what I wanted, and I said I was an expert on marketing and social media. She asked if I wanted to do the panel coming up in twenty minutes, and suddenly I had my panel. I found myself sitting between agent Lucienne Diver and Bill Fawcett, with S M Stirling on Bill’s other side. I asked Lucienne a question about agents before the panel, then asked her if I could contact her if the agent currently looking at one of my manuscripts didn’t work out. So in that way I lined up another possibility for representation from a top agent. The panel went well, and I definitely had some information to offer. When we introduced ourselves Bill asked when I was going to get the chapters to him that he had been waiting for, then told the audience that what he had seen was very good. Great plug, Bill.

I had lunch in the food court, one of only two I actually ate there. The one thing I hate about the food court is the difficulty in getting a table. Sitting on the floor is not comfortable for me, and sometimes it takes fifteen minutes of searching to find a chair at a table. It only took ten this time, holding my food and walking, looking. There were a bunch of costumes in evidence, some really good ones, some not so much. One woman had a t-shirt that read, ‘a girl has no costume,’ which was kind of original in itself.

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Indie author showcase in Scifi Lit.

After lunch I went to the Showcase: Indie Authors panel, with Chris Kennedy, Mark Wandrey and others. I talked with Chris after the panel and we tentatively agreed to do lunch the next couple of days. I would finally make that appointment on Facebook that night, one of the reasons I insist on internet access when at cons. I stayed for the next panel, Series Here, Series There: What’s Become of the Standalone?, with Bill Fawcett, Chuck Gannon, S M Stirling and Gray Rinehart. Talked with Chuck for about fifteen seconds after the panel, not as much as I would have liked, but people are busy at cons. At least some people are.  Talked with Gray out in the hall for a few minutes and learned that if I submitted to Baen as an author, then got an agent, they would withdraw any offer they had made. They would only deal with the agent if the agent made the submission. Good to know, since the manuscript I wanted Jim Minz to look at was already at an agency. So I no longer needed to see Jim that weekend and try to get the manuscript to him. Things you only learn at cons, or the hard way, by getting an offer, then having it jerked away from you.

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Some great costumes. The guy’s body paint was amazing.

After that I made my only trips of the con through the Habitrail, the walkway between the Hyatt and the Marriott. When staying at the Marquis I would take that trip six or more times a day. There was really nothing of interest for me in the Marriott or the Hilton this year, so I only took the one trip, to go to the VIP badge pickup once again to get some information. As usual, it was two lanes of people bumping into each other while everyone walked with shuffle steps. Some people stopped to take pictures, against con policy, and slowing up the progress. Once there, once back, and I was through with the damned thing.

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The Hound made an appearance.

One thing I noted this day was that Jim Butcher was on a fantasy literature panel, and the line stretched all the way around the Embassy lobby. The sad part was the room was already full, and all those people waited for nothing. I suggested to Sue Phillips, who is not in charge of that track, that it might be a good idea to have any panel with Butcher in one of the larger Centennial rooms.

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Not sure what he was, but he looked cool.

I walked around the Hyatt, taking pictures, taking in the con. There really wasn’t anything else I wanted to see, but it was too early to go home. Finally, I walked back to the hotel and ate dinner at a nearby restaurant, then went back to my room to do some work.

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Obligatory Storm Trooper posing.

Altogether it was a good day. I had my promised panel, met with a lot of people, gained some good information. Once you become a working author a con like this is a business opportunity, to make with as you would. Having met people at earlier cons helped, and this one would help with those in the future.

Filed under: Conferences, Dragons, Writing Tagged: Bill Fawcett, DragonCon, Hyatt, Jim Butcher, Jody Lynn Nye

DragonCon 2017, Part One, Preliminaries

 

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View from my room at the Residence Inn.

Well, my fifth DragonCon is in the books. DragonCon is  megacon, over 80,000 people this year, I believe. This, as said above, was my fifth con, and I didn’t go to any prior to 2013. I really didn’t know what they were or where they were held. I was the kind of fan who read books and watched TV/movies. I’m sure a lot of my readers have never been to one as well, or if they had, it was a small regional con. So here you go, my experiences. Great time, though I tried to avoid some of the more onerous events, like standing in long lines or fighting my way through the Habitrail walkways. I’m going to do this blog in stages, so let’s start off with first things first.

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Giant Ferris Wheel in downtown Atlanta.

Last year I tried to book a room at the Marriott Marquis, where I had stayed for 2015 and 2016. They had a screw up the morning that they opened booking, so my surefire method of getting a room failed. Instead, I booked at the Marriott Residence Inn, about two blocks down from the Weston. I also was able to get Attending Professional status this year, after a little bit of a battle. I had thought I would get a bunch of panels, without having to do anything. Wrong. I got two in scifi lit, because the director, Sue Phillips, knew me. I found out from others that you have to contact track directors with your qualifications, and in some cases even suggestions for panels. So that is what I will be doing next year.

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The Marriot Marquis before the storm.

The drive up was pleasant, a little over five hours from Tallahassee. US 319 in Thomasville, then a series of four lane roads, including GA 300 to Cordele.  From there it was up I75 to Atlanta. Clear sailing all the way until Atlanta, where the interstate was again broken and traffic moved at the pace of snail mail. Probably an hour stuck at less than 10 mph. I got over just in time to take my exit, then followed my GPS to the Residence Inn. Which had no place to pull over in front, WTF.  I drove around a couple of times before I saw the sign that said Valet Parking in the back. Once I was there it was no problem, the Valet, who was also the Busguy (I’m not sure we’re supposed to say boy anymore). Took my bags to my room and parked my car. I was on the 16th floor and had a great view of the city, including the Weston and the huge Ferris wheel that was five or six blocks away. I went out looking for someplace to eat after a short nap, and almost everything nearby closed at 8PM. Another WTF moment. In Tally, everything stays open to at least 9, often 10 on weekdays. Found a place and was able to fill my belly.

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VIP badge pickup.

The next morning I was up and had the complimentary breakfast on the second floor, which was actually quite good. Scrambled eggs, several different meats, grits and oatmeal, and a variety of breads and pastries. Then it was time to get my badge. I parked in the public garage beside the Hilton, $20 for what amounted to less than an hour, then into the Marriott and to the VIP badge pickup. No lines, just walk up to the front, show your ID, and get your badge. That in and of itself was worth getting professional status. Learned that I wasn’t much of a VIP, since I couldn’t get into the VIP lounge. Maybe a few years from now, if things keep going the way they are.

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Whale shark at the Georgia Aquarium.

I next went to the Georgia Aquarium. Not bad, but I’ve been to aquariums all over Florida, including Marineland and Seaworld, and I didn’t think it as good as those. Still, they had whale sharks (juveniles), dolphins, seals, otters, and a lot of different fish and rays. Still a good way to spend a couple of hours. They had a VR ride through prehistoric seas, but you had to wear the headset, and I remembered how horrible the one I had at home had been until I bought the lens inserts, so I passed on that one.

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Though not the largest, the otters were one of the most enjoyable attractions, though very hard to get a picture of.

There were people in FSU and Alabama shirts all over town, many at the aquarium. The game was Saturday, and I had an interest since I had studied at both schools. But not enough to miss DragonCon. This was time for learning and networking, and it was planned as a packed weekend for those activities. Ate at Quiznos that night, which is right outside the front entrance to the hotel, then went up to my room, did some writing, and went to bed.

Filed under: self publishing, Writing Tagged: Atlanta, DragonCon, Georgia Aquarium, Marriot Marquis, Whale Sharks

Trip Out West the Second: Day 9 and Final Thoughts

Day 9: Monday.

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Joshua Tree near Bonnie Springs.

Ate a good breakfast at the Hilton, then packed up, getting everything I was going to take back into two bags and the CPAP bag.  I left the small ice chest and fan behind, and got everything else into the car.  Then it was to another Terrible’s, this time Terrible’s Car Wash, to get the car cleaned before I returned it.  Actually, it was a very good car wash.  The $11 wash included a guy running a brush over the front of the car, then going through the automated system that was much more involved than those I use in Tallahassee.  Then it was on to turn in the car and get to the airport.  The airport in Vegas is laid out in an unusual manner as far as I’m concerned.  The rental car areas are ten minutes by shuttle bus from the terminal.  They took the car back without comment.  I had put just under 2,500 miles on it, probably more than most people, but they didn’t bat an eye looking at the odometer.

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Cactus in Grand Canyon.

I checked in at the Delta counter outside, something they were also doing at the Tallahassee airport.  I left my cane sitting on the counter and didn’t remember it until I was well into the terminal, almost to the Transportation Security Administration checkpoint.  It was a cheap travel cane, I had much better at home, and I wouldn’t be flying again for at least half a year, so it was sacrificed on the altar of expediency.  The first two people at the TSA checkpoint were as rude and obnoxious as advertised, though the ones I dealt with further in were nice enough.  The second agent told me to sit my ass on the damn stool if I couldn’t take my shoes off standing.  After unpacking everything in my carry-on bag that I had so laboriously packed in, with impatient people bunching up behind me, I got through the checkpoint and spent the next ten minutes getting everything back in.  Thank you TSA.  I feel so much more secure, not.

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Sign in restaurant at Zion Park.

The plane took off from Vegas on time and got to Atlanta early.  But the flight to Tally was delayed, then the departure gate switched.  Sat down next to a guy in the waiting area who was reading the Silmarillion and we got into a conversation about scifi and fantasy.  And then it was onto the plane, to Tally, and home.

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Rod on the way to Bryce Canyon.

I was afraid my cats were going to be pissed at me for leaving them for a week.  Like, where in the hell have you been?  You weren’t here taking care of us.  Instead, they were really glad to see me, and spent the rest of the evening all over me.  It was good to be home, though I will want to return to the Southwest sometime in the future.  Possibly even move there.  But that’s for another time.

 

What I learned:

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Formation at Capitol Reef.

Get the National Park Pass if you’re going to a bunch of them.  It gets you into every National Park, Monument and Historical Site that charges.  There are a lot of them out here, and it saved me over a hundred dollars getting it.  The people at the gates seem to be glad to see them as well.  A quick scan, maybe a look at your ID, and you’re in.

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Sign at Bryce Point Overlook.

Make sure you have a full tank when going anyplace, and make sure your bladder is empty.  No kidding, you might be driving for hours before you see anything but beautiful vistas.  And there isn’t always a place to pull over to take a piss.  I never let my tank get below a quarter full.  Though it isn’t quite the wilderness that the German couple thought, there are roads and electricity after all, there are vast stretches of emptiness.  No cell coverage, no police (I saw maybe four police cars my whole trip), no stores.  I’m sure someone would have been along within a couple of hours on any of the roads I was on.  The important thing to remember is to be responsible for yourself, because there is no safety net, as least in the short term.

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Sign at the motel I stayed at in Moab.

Book rooms ahead of time.  That means having a computer and staying at places that have wifi and figuring out where you want to stop the next day.  There are a lot of people looking for rooms at the end of the day, and you are competing with them if you don’t have something already set in stone.

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Arches National Park.

Drive the speed limit or below.  There are a lot of places where the posted limit was well thought out.  When I was driving switchbacks up and down mountain roads, some with no guard rails, I was well below the speed limit.  If people were backed up behind me, too bad.  Their convenience was not more important than keeping myself from falling to my death.  Suck it up, snowflakes.

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The desert is tough on plants as well.

For someone from the hot and humid South it was not all that uncomfortable for the most part.  With the exception of Death Valley and Needles, I really didn’t feel all that hot, even when outside of the restaurant in Goodsprings when it was 111 degrees.  You don’t feel any sweat, because it’s wicking  into the dry air as soon as it flows from your pores.  Same with the moisture from your lungs.  So you feel great even while you’re dehydrating, the great lie of the desert.  And if you aren’t drinking water, you will get dehydrated.  So drink water, even when you don’t feel like it.  Which means having water in your car.  I bought a case when I first arrived, and only had two left when I departed.  You can’t depend on always being near a water source, and if you break down out here, you could shortly be in serious trouble.

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Balancing rock on the way to Canyonlands.

A lot of people I know won’t like this one, but here it is.  There are a lot of public lands out here, preserving a lot of spectacular natural beauty.  I wish there was more, and more of the lands were protected for the future.  Once they’re turned over for exploitation they’re gone.  And I don’t believe that crap about mining and oil companies returning the land to the way it was.  I’ve seen the strip mines in Alabama when I lived there.  What had been natural hilly forest was now one big rectangular hill.  Sure, there were trees growing on it, but it wasn’t as good as new.  I’ve seen the wild rivers I used to canoe in Florida now that there are developments all up and down the banks, and they aren’t the same.  Disagree with me, fine.  Don’t try to argue with me about it because I don’t want to hear it.

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These guys seemed to do well in all the areas I visited.

Put time into planning your trip.  I used Google Maps and the internet to check out a lot of places, and still got caught by surprise.  I drove right past the sign that pointed to Goblin Valley State Park.  I knew it was somewhere in Utah, but not exactly where, and I had a schedule to keep with the motel in Moab.  With a little forethought it would have been on my path.  The same with Monument Valley.  If I had known that the real sights were south of the highway, I could have taken an extra hour and driven to see them.   I didn’t realize the most part of Canyonlands was just down the road from Dead Horse Point.  And I didn’t realize what a wonder the Grand Escalante Monument was, or I might have worked that into my travel plans.  At least now I have a target for the next trip.  Escalante, Goblin Valley, another part of Canyonlands, maybe the north rim of the Grand Canyon.  Possibly some horse riding in certain locations, which would involve getting some practice where I live, since it has been decades since I sat one.  Still, no matter how much planning you put in, there’s going to be surprises.  You might see some spectacular sights outside of the parks and monuments.  You never know what the next turn will bring.

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Monument Valley Welcome Center.

I had a great trip.  Bonnie Springs Ranch, Zion Park, Capitol Reef and Needles have joined Goodsprings, the Mojave and Flagstaff as locations in the series.   They won’t be the same of course, not after three hundred years of civilization’s absence.   I was able to plan the course of my characters over the Southwest.  But they will be memorable locations, filled in with actual experiences.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, Military, Near Future, science Fiction, self publishing, Writing Tagged: Arizona, California, Death Valley, Nevada, Travel, Utah

Trip Out West the Second, Day 7 and 8.

Day 7: Saturday

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Needles, California.  Wet heat in the desert.

Going to do this one a little different.  At Motel 6 in Needles, California, where it’s 116 degrees and almost 7 at night.  Checked the forecast for the Mojave National Preserve tomorrow, and it’s only supposed to get up to 99, so no big deal there, but Needles must be the lesser hell, if Death Valley is the greater.  Nice drive from Flagstaff, and it was kind of funny when we got hit with a shower.  Almost everyone on the road acted like they were in the middle of a hurricane.  To me it was like a light shower in Florida, and I had to laugh at the signs that warned of water on the road.

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The Mexican Hat at Mexican Hat.

The most disturbing thing was entering California.  I entered it twice before, once on I-15 from Nevada in February, the second time just this week when going into Death Valley.  This time, on I-40, I saw signs for vehicle inspection ahead, and for all vehicles to stop, on the flippen interstate.  A guy wearing a vest asked me if I was from Texas (I had Texas plates on the rental).  Then he asked where I was coming from before waving me through.  So, if he hadn’t been satisfied with my answers would they have searched my car?  It was like entering a foreign country, and not a state of this country.  I heard it was an agricultural inspection, but I have to think they could use it for anything.  Suspicious vehicle traveling on the US Interstate system, let’s go ahead and tear apart everything you have in the car to make sure.  I’m wondering how long it will be until this region is truly an independent country.  But I’m safe in my hotel room with the air conditioner going.  There are some seedy looking characters hanging around outside, so I’m wasn’t sure how secure I really was.  Wished I was back in Florida, where I would have access to a gun.

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Endless road through the desert.

Another thing for those interested.  The railroads are alive and well out here.  I saw a bunch of very long trains outside of Winslow, one sitting there on the double track while another passed on the single track section.  I later passed that train while I was on I-40 and it was over two miles long.  I saw several more while on the interstate and while in the Petrified Forest National Park.  And all the way to Needles, many with flatcars stacked with two truck trailers each.  Not sure what they were about, but obviously a lot of stuff is moving both ways across Arizona.

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Petrified logs in the Petrified Forest National Park.

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Petrified log.

After getting up in Winslow and heading to Denny’s, I let my GPS lead me to the Park.  It recommended I get off in Holbrook and take the back-route, US Highway 180, to the park.  If you want to see the petrified forest first, that’s the way to go.  If the Painted Desert is the target, there is another entrance off I-40 further east.  I took the backroad, and was soon in the park, snapping pictures of all the petrified logs.  There were a lot of businesses in the area selling petrified wood, indicating that the forest covers more land than that protected by the park.  If the park wasn’t there I’m sure the logs would all be gone in a couple of more generations.  I stopped in the road at one point to take pictures since there were no pullovers, and really no traffic at that point.  A Ranger came over the hill and put on his lights, pulling up to me and asking that I don’t stop in the road.  I told him there were no pullovers, and he said there would be some ahead, and recommended that I pull over on the side if I want to shoot.  He looked at the low shoulder and stated that maybe here wasn’t the best place, but any place with grass would be good.  Unfortunately, I didn’t find any of this fabled grass shoulder the entire way, so I shot pictures on the move.  There were some pullovers later, including some spectacular parking areas by groups of logs.

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The beauty of the Painted Desert.

And then I started to get into the painted desert, what I had been looking for the day before.  I found that the places I had seen on the reservation were indeed part of the desert, and almost the entire park was part of it.  But the really fantastic views were ahead.  I took as many pictures as I could of the colorful formations that give the desert its name.  And pictures of the vegetation around the desert, since I would be writing about this area.   The temperature when I first got to the park at 11 AM was 78 degrees.  By 1 PM when I left it was up to 90.

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Lava field at Sunset Crater National Monument.

Next was Sunset Crater outside of Flagstaff.  I had put the name into my GPS earlier and nothing came back.  But when I entered it right outside of Flagstaff, I got a hit.  I drove to the entrance to the National Monument and used my annual park pass to get in.  That was a great investment.  $80, and I had gotten into seven National Parks and a Monument for no other charge, saving at least $120 overall.  And I can use it to get into other parks until it expires in July of 2018.  I thought I would be able to look into the craters of the volcanoes that had erupted here in about 1000 AD.  That’s what I saw on Google Maps.  Unfortunately, the craters were on the tops of compact mountains that you weren’t allowed to hike on, like I really could.  Still, there were lava flows to see and some of the mountains were definitely made of cinders.  And I was able to get some good looks at the vegetation around Flagstaff, the starting point of the series.  It was mostly pines, I think the same Ponderosa variety that I saw in Utah.  Forests of this continued for forty miles to the west of Flagstaff, after which point desert began to take over.  And then there are the forests of juniper trees running up and down hills, very bizarre and places that will have to appear in the books.  The desert grew more like the Mojave as I approached and passed through Kingman, and the temperature started to rise, until it was 107 degrees at Kingman.  And it kept going up, until it hit 116 degrees just before the California border.  As I stated earlier about the inspection that stopped all traffic, it appears that California has passed into the realm of hell, so why not hellish temps.

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Forest around Flagstaff.

As soon as I got into my room, I searched the net and found that the Mojave, my last target, would be a mere 99 degrees the next day.  One last thing.  When I was out getting something to eat, I saw a young woman with a service dog.  A Husky.  I know these dogs don’t do well in North Florida.  I asked her and her boyfriend about it, and they said, yes, the dog spent almost all of his time in air-conditioning, only going out to bathroom in the yard or when transferring from the car to house or other place.  I wish him well, and hope nothing happens where that animal is forced to endure the desert heat for any appreciable amount of time.

Day 8: Sunday

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Terrible’s Store, Gas Station and Casino in Searchlight.

I survived my night in Needles, and in fact slept through my alarm, waking a half an hour later than expected.  The town, like a lot in this region, is a vegetational oases in the desert, with stands of palms and juniper.  Hotter than hell, though.  I had breakfast at one of the two high class establishments in Needles, McDonalds, the other choice being Jack In The Box.  Then it was down I-40 until I could turn off onto US 95.  Now here is where the stopping of cars on the interstate into California showed how useless a tactic that was.  I drove into Nevada on this back highway and there were no car checks at all.  The first town I got to was Cal-Nev-Ari, a tiny hamlet, the one I had proposed to stay at when first planning the trip before finding Bonnie Springs Ranch.  Another oasis of palms and Junipers.  Then up the road to Searchlight, another small town, and one in the game Fallout New Vegas.  From there I turned onto Nipton Road and was soon in California again, and again with no check.

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Trading Post in Nipton, California, in at the edge of the Mojave National Preserve.

Last trip I had stopped in Nipton to take pictures and didn’t go in the store.  This time I did, bought some memorabilia, and talked with the store owner and an older gentleman about science fiction (after I had passed them some cards).  The owner was partial to Michael Moorcock and Edgar Rice Burroughs, while the visitor had read Asimov, Poul Anderson and many others, including the entire Perry Rodan series.  Then it was onto I-15 heading into California, and again, no traffic stops (really California, you need to stop leaving the backdoor open).  I drove to the Cima Rd exit into the Mojave National Preserve.  I stopped at the Shell station there and bought a few things, then was astounded when I was asked for ten cents for the bag I asked for.

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Infamous Chollo, or Jumping Cactus, an escapee from hell.  Only saw this one in the Mojave, and I’m hoping it doesn’t do well in that area.

Down Cima road, which I had travelled part of the way the last time, again stopping at the World War I memorial cross.  Saw a Chollo Cactus, also known as the Jumping Cactus, since their barbed parts seem to jump on people.  Evil stuff, and I’m glad I didn’t touch one on the last trip when I first saw them.  A good principle to live with is to not touch anything until you know what it is and what it will do.  Took pictures of the Joshua Tree forest, which was just as spectacular in summer as in winter.  And into the Preserve the temps were between 95-98, with the low humidity it was actually comfortable.  Got to the end of Cima Road without ever seeing Cima, a small village of 21 people that’s supposed to be out here somewhere.  Then got on the road back to Nipton Road, then onto I-15 back into Nevada.

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Joshua Trees and rocks in the Mojave.

I had booked a room at Buffalo Bill’s Hotel and Casino, a place I had wanted to stay at for at least a night, as it had been in Fallout and I had cleared it out several times in the game.  I got off at the interchange, then got confused at the light, thinking straight ahead would take me to the hotel.  Instead, I was on the onramp to 15, with nowhere to go but forward.  And I could see that the traffic on the other side, going back into California, was bumper to bumper and moving slowly.  It was that way the entire twelve miles to the next exit, and since I didn’t want to sit in it, I kept on going into Las Vegas and got a room at the Hilton Garden Inn on Las Vegas Blvd.  I had stayed there before, and though it was a bit pricey, it was very comfortable.   Unfortunately, I never sleep well before a flight.  Not from any anxiety over flying, since I love that part of the trip.  No, it’s the hassle of the airport, of getting from place to place on time, and going through the indignity of TSA.  And I had received a call at 6:30, waking me early, to remind me that I had a doctor’s appointment the next morning.

Up next, final thoughts and what I learned.

Filed under: Fantasy, Kindle, science Fiction, self publishing, Uncategorized, Websites, Writing Tagged: Chollo Cactus, Flagstaff, Mojave Desert, Needles, Nipton, Painted Desert, Petrified Forest, Sunset Craters, Travel, Trip out west

Trip Out West the Second, Day 5 and 6.

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Rock formation at Capitol Reef National Park.

Day 5: Thursday

The first target for this day was Capitol Reef National Park.  I found out that a reef was a line of mountains without a pass, something that would stop the movement of settlers.  The name Capitol was added because of rock formations that reminded people of the domes of capitols.  This was a day of contrasts.  Very few radio signals out here in the wilds, and mostly talk radio at that.  Almost no gas stations and bathrooms, and when I found those, there weren’t any restaurants.  Capitol Reef didn’t have a small town at the entrance like Zion and Bryce, only the visitor center, which had no food or drinks.  Luckily I had eaten a candy bar and procured a large coke at the gas station a couple of miles down the road before I got there.

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On the scenic drive.

Reef had a scenic drive that required an entrance fee like all National Parks, and a highway that went right through it.  The method of payment was putting money in an envelope and putting it through a slot.  Since I had an Annual Pass I just ignored it.  I took the scenic route, which led to some spectacular formations.  The view of the landscape outside the park was also pretty damned cool.  There were some washes to cross with warning signs, so I kept a close watch on the weather.   Then it was back to the visitor center and onto the highway that cut through the park.  The formations were pretty damned spectacular along that route as well.  It was about a hundred and fifty miles to the next park, Arches, with almost nothing along the way.  The terrain was really varied, with some streams, desert, stands of pines, and even some marshlands.  Cattle grazed on green grass, while across the road desert scrub was the only vegetation.  Found one gas station on the way from Reef to I-70.

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Formation on the way to I-80.

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One of the ‘Windows’ at Arches.

From I-70 it was down highway 191  to Arches National Park.  Arches was undergoing road construction, which happened at night, so they closed at 7 PM each day.  And some of the most spectacular formations were off limits until the roads were finished.  I arrived about 4 and was soon on another switch back climbing high into the sky.  Again, spectacular rock formations, including some balancing rocks to go along with the windows and arches.  I didn’t get all the way through the park.  I needed to get something to eat, so I only spent a little over two hours in the park.

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Balancing Rock at Arches.

Moab was not a large town, but it was a real town, with about a dozen motels, McDonalds, Wendys, Pizza Hut and Denny’s.  Checked into my hotel, and was very glad I had booked, since otherwise they had no vacancies  and went out to eat, then back to the hotel to sleep.  Woke about five and had trouble getting back to sleep.  Finally dozed off, and was back up again at six.  This was the first night of the trip I had any trouble sleeping.  Couldn’t really blame it on the room, which was comfortable.

Day 6: Friday

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Colorado River at Dead Horse Point.

Got up and ate breakfast at the motel, then got on the road.  I had a long day planned, with four stops.  First up was Dead Horse Point State Park, just north of Moab.  I had planned to go to the Needles section of Canyonlands National Park after this (not to be confused with Needles, California), but found that the Island in the Sky section was just down the road from the state park, so that was to be my second destination of the day.  Dead Horse Point was named after a herd of reject horses that were left to die of thirst within two hundred feet of the Colorado River after the acceptable mounts had been taken.  The view from the well stocked visitors center was spectacular, that of the point overlook even more so.  As advertised, it was a miniature Grand Canyon, which was as it should be since this actually was part of that massive canyon system.  The rock formations on the way to the park were also spectacular.  Met and talked with a German couple, then an older couple from Pennsylvania.  The German couple talked about how much wilderness there was out here.  I guess I agreed, but seeing as we got to this point by paved road, it didn’t seem to be wilderness to me.  Unpopulated, yes, mostly natural, but wilderness?  Bought a Bluray disc of the geology of Southern Utah and Northern Arizona, something I was sure would come in handy in planning my post-apocalyptic series.  I already had a good idea of the path my characters were going to take to find the refuge of Zion, and this would help make those decisions.

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Grand Canyon in Canyonlands National Park.

Next was a couple of miles down the road to Canyonlands National Park.  Canyonlands is where the Colorado and Green Rivers come together.  There were some spectacular views on the way, but the Grand View was well named.  Here you could see the entire canyon laid out, spread wide.  It had to be at least ten miles, possibly the eighteen they state as the maximum width.  Beautiful formations in every direction.  Satisfied that I had seen what I needed to see I headed out.  Canyonlands was my sixth National Park of the trip and wouldn’t be the last.  This was the first park I didn’t go into the visitor’s center at.  I had bought something at all the others, and was starting to get weighed down with books.

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More of the canyon at Canyonlands.

Next stop, Monument Valley on the Utah-Arizona border.  I had read a lot about it, and was anxious to get there.  Another long drive through mostly empty country.  Mostly high desert, some sparse forest, a few rivers.  An hour portion with no radio stations, AM or FM, then a station in Navajo, with a combination of Native American and Reggae music.  Bizarre.  Commercials were in Navajo, with English words and numbers here and there to fill in for concepts not expressed in their language.  Going through the valley I was surprised that there were so few turn offs for people to take pictures.  A real oversight.  And the valley was not as spectacular as I had hoped.  Oh, the formations were cool, but I think having explored the National Parks getting there I had been overloaded by beautiful rocks.  The formations were more spread out than those of the National Parks, which was different.  I drove off, and the two best formations were at the end, with, again, no overlooks.

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Monument in Monument Valley.

So next I headed toward Tuba City down in Arizona, where I hoped to drive into the Navajo Reservation and get a good look at the Painted Desert.  It was almost two hours to Tuba City, another indication of how vast and empty this land was.  I turned off from Tuba and took the back road to Winslow, which gave me the same arrival time as the front way.  So off I drove, my GPS telling me I would be in Winslow in an hour, looking for the Painted Desert.  I saw parts of it, but again there were no places to turn off to take pictures.  A rainbow arched over the high desert from the recent rain.  And when I got to the next highway, the one I thought would take me to Winslow, and my GPS said I was seven minutes away, I saw a sign that said I-40 was over fifty miles away.  I checked my cell phone and saw that the time had gone back one hour.  Utah uses daylight savings time, and so do the Arizona Indian Reservations, but not the rest of the state.  So it was fifty miles of almost deserted road on the way to I-40, with no bathrooms.  Hell, with no anything at all.  I checked into the Motel Six, and then found that the Painted Desert was actually best viewed from Petrified Forest National Park, my destination the next day.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, Kindle, science Fiction, self publishing, Writing Tagged: Arches National Park, Canyonlands National Park, Dead Horse Point, Moab, Monument Valley, Navajo Reservation, Post Apocalyptic, Tuba City, Utah, Winslow

Trip Out West The Second: Days 3 and 4.

Day 3:  Tuesday.  The Grand Canyon by Helicopter.

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My Ride.  That is my life preserver around my waist.  For a flight over the desert.

The big day arrived.  Going into the Grand Canyon by helicopter.  I had booked a flight through Maverick Helicopters in Henderson over Expedia.  $427, plus $15 fuel surcharge.  Not sure why people have to add charges when they could just give you the whole price.  The trip was supposed to last for four hours.  More on that later.  I checked out of Bonnie Springs and headed for the airport in Henderson, of course getting on the interstate when I came to it going the wrong way, north instead of south.  Found a bus for Maverick helicopters when I got off the interstate to get back on going the right way and followed it.  Still got there in plenty of time, and checked in, then waited.  I met my party, a family of four originally from Korea, and a young couple originally from the Ukraine, who I had some extensive conversations with.  The Korean father helped me with my seatbelt and headphones, and I guess their reverence for their elders is not a rumor.  Though I really didn’t feel comfortable filling the role of elder.  We took off a few minutes before our scheduled departure, one of four helicopters in the air, reminding me of my Army days and air missions.  It was a thirty minute flight to the canyon, over the Hoover Dam and Lake Meade.

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Inside the Canyon.

We came down on a small plateau about a hundred feet above the mighty Colorado River that had room for all of the copters and sets of picnic tables with sunshade umbrellas.  The mighty Colorado looked more like a creek to me, though it carved that mighty canyon over hundreds of millions of years.  I came up with the phrase, Majestic Mountains, Rivers, meh.  The cliffs were majestic, and it was really cool to actually be in the canyon, and not just looking down into it.  It was hot down there, and unlike the Mojave, it had some humidity.  I think 48% was quoted to me.   Not up to the standards of North Florida, but with heat around 109 it was still very hot.  I noted that living in North Florida must have inured me to the heat, since the people from Sacramento were sweating like hogs and I was barely breaking out with any moisture.  We only spent thirty minutes in the Canyon, eating a small snack, then going up and out of the canyon and into the Mojave.

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Mountains outside the Canyon.

They landed the helicopters at a desert refueling station.  We were told that they only carried half a load of fuel so they could take seven passengers, and had to fill up to return.  The desert below was as interesting to me as the canyon had been.  Crisscrossing washes, dirt tracks, roads laid out for communities that never happened, a fuel truck sitting out in the middle of nowhere.  A coral with no horses and no road leading to it.  There were arrays of photovoltaic cells in huge banks getting power from the sun in a place where that was plentiful.

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The desert from the air.

We landed back at the field after a trip of two hours and fifteen minutes, out of the promised four hours.  No one complained, and I was actually glad to be back in air-conditioning.  The heat in the canyon had sapped my strength.  Still, they had promised four hours, and hadn’t delivered.   Was it worth it?  I think so.  Just seeing the desert and the canyon from the air was an experience like no other.  And I have to admit, it didn’t take long to experience everything there was to experience at the landing site.  Still, I would have preferred taking off and maybe going up the canyon another couple of miles and touching down at another spot.

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Rains in the distance,  Southern Utah.

Before going on this trip my Facebook friend Jonathan LaForce had asked if I was going to go through St. George, Utah.  Actually, I had a room booked at the Zion  Park Motel right outside of Zion National Park, and St. George was on the way.  So I texted him and we arranged to have dinner at his house.  I was back on the road, heading up I-15 to St. George, then on to Zion.  There was a thunderstorm developing in the east along some mountains and into the desert several miles away.  Still amazed me how far you could see out here.  The day before Vegas had a storm while I was in Death Valley with high winds and hail, .  I really didn’t want to experience a desert thunderstorm, and kept watching the rain, which was probably well over ten miles away and never got closer.  I cruised through Nevada, then up through a little bit of Arizona.  And that’s where I hit the Virgin River Gorge, otherwise known to locals as The Gorge.  The Virgin River isn’t much to speak about.  I think I’ve seen backyard hose overflow with more water.  But it had carved its way through this gorgeous gorge that seemed to come out of nowhere.  One instant the road is headed toward some mountains.  No big deal, since it is always heading toward some mountains.  Then you’re on this four-lane interstate with towering cliffs on both sides.  It was impressive, and I wish they had put in some pull overs here as well.  Since I couldn’t stop I have no pictures of the Gorge, though you can find it on Google Maps and there are several points with ground views.

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St, George, Utah.

So I made it though and into Utah, my first time in that state, and had Jonathan’s address in the GPS, which got me kind of sort of there.  At least to the general vicinity, enough to let me search for house numbers.  We had a nice meal, I met his wife and young kids, and we spent a few hours discussing writing and possible future projects.  The I headed for the Zion Park Hotel, right at the mouth of the Canyon.  I had booked it online before the trip and it was much cheaper than the chain hotels in the area.  A very comfortable little motel, that was just about to close for the night when I got there.  They leave the keys out in envelops for late arriving guests, so I wasn’t in any danger of being locked out.  I fell into bed exhausted from another long day.

Day 4:  Wednesday.

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Inside Porter’s Smokehouse and Grill.

It was cloudy and raining in the morning, but it was clear enough to get some good pictures of the entrance of Zion.  I ate breakfast at a local restaurant, which was very good and came with an enormous cup of coffee.  Then into the park.  While it was possible to drive through the canyon, it was recommended that you stop at the visitor’s center and take the shuttle, which lets people off at eight stops.  I did the shuttle and rode all the way to the end, at a place called The Narrows.  It actually works best to take the bus to the end, then hop off on stops on the way back, when it is less crowded, and that’s what I did, taking pictures the whole way.  The Virgin River runs through the canyon, and there are pleasant groves of trees along its length.  I found one of the settings I will use in my post-apocalyptic series, another refuge for civilization, Zion.  It even has the perfect name.  I met some guys who were going rock climbing, saw some condors soaring up at the top of the cliffs, and generally enjoyed the canyon.  When I was about to leave I saw a mule deer browsing on the side of the road.  I decided to take the high road out, which was an adventure.

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One of Zion’s formations.

The high road is just that.  It switch backed up to the heights overlooking the canyon.  In places it is a long drop with no guard rails, just low rows of stones.  I was starting to wonder if I had made the right decision as I climbed, but trucks and buses were using it, so I figured it had to be safe, though it was still anxiety producing.  I went through a mile-long tunnel and was out in a wonderland as spectacular as the main canyon.  Rock formations at all angles, just as they had been laid down millions of years ago, then deformed and pushed up by plate tectonics.  For someone who had studied geology this was truly amazing.  There were ponderosa pines at this altitude, a change from the lower desert.  At one point a young bighorn sheep crossed the road and scrambled up a rock race like it was flat ground.

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Mule deer at Zion.

I started off for Bryce, led by my GPS, through varied territory.  There was still desert, with stands of pines and some streams lined with cottonwood trees.  There were a lot of small farms and ranches, horses and cattle.  And almost no stores, gas stations or restrooms.  Bryce was a couple of hour drive from Zion by the scenic route.  Ten miles up the road from Bryce was a canyon of red rock the road went through, which was also spectacular, with a pair of carved arch tunnels for cars and buses.  You couldn’t swing a cat in this country without seeing something eye dropping.  I felt like I had died and gone to heaven, except for the scarcity of bathrooms along the way.  I went ahead and got a room before going into the park, taking the shuttle bus from in front of the hotel.  Bryce was also spectacular, but was not a setting I would use in the series.  The main overlook was above 8,000 feet, and I wore out quickly.  Saw some deer throughout the park.  A lot of Asians and East Europeans were in the park, seeing America.  And I talked with some young people from Belgium the next morning at breakfast.

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Bryce.

After visiting the park I rode the shuttle back to the hotel, looking to get something to eat.  The small town at the park entrance didn’t have a lot of choices.  Best Western ran both of the motels, and I have never been a great fan of that chain since travelling as a child with my mom and dad up the east coast in the summers.  Ruby’s, the one I picked, was overpriced and not well laid out.  There were other hotels on the way, from five to ten miles away, and this decided me on the course of finding a place to stay on the net the night before heading out.  I ate in the restaurant at Ruby’s, a big place with a buffet.  I was seated immediately, and went over to the small and overpriced buffet.  Not recommended at all.  As I left there were almost a hundred people lined up waiting to get seated, so I realized that it could have been worse.  I could have been waiting an hour to get to the crappy buffet.

I went ahead and plotted my course the next day and decided I would stay in Moab.  Good idea, and I went ahead and booked a room online at the Moab Adventure Inn.  Then it was another deep sleep.

Filed under: eBooks, Fantasy, Kindle, Plotting, Writing Tagged: Bryce National Park, Post Apocalyptic, South Utah, St. George, Virgin River Gorge, Zion National Park

Trip Out West The Second: Days 1 and 2.

Day 1: Sunday

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Mountains overlooking the Mojave Desert.

This trip I flew from Tallahassee to Atlanta, then directly into Las Vegas.  While waiting for the cab to take me to Tally airport the sweat was pouring down my face from the humidity, though the temperature was only in the low eighties.  Remember that.  It’s important later on.  There were a bunch of ladies on the plane from Tally heading for Vegas and a health care conference.  I saw several of them on the flight to Vegas.  Watched Logan on the way, and really wished I had seen it in the theater.  Much better than I thought it would be.  We flew over the Grand Canyon and were treated to a fantastic view.  Or we would have been, if the windows weren’t so filthy.  Something the airlines need to look into, remembering that people fly during the day to view the sights.   In Vegas I went to the Enterprise desk, which entails riding a shuttle bus for almost ten minutes from the air terminal (and don’t ask me what the people who planned this airport were thinking.)  I was offered a number of economy cars, but chose the one with Texas plates for reasons.

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Rainbow over the Desert at Bonnie Springs.

After I got my car I drove south into the Mojave for a couple of hours, eating at the Pioneer Saloon in Goodsprings.  Then to the nearest Wal-Mart to pick up a fan, distilled water for my CPAP, and a case of bottled water, always a good idea in that climate.  One thing I will mention about the Mojave.  Remember the remark about the sweat in Tallahassee.  It was 111 degrees, and not a bit of sweat.  I realized that was the danger of the desert for the untutored.  You would dehydrate in the heat without noticing until you fell over.  I tried to enter the Bonnie Springs Motel, where I would be staying the first two nights, in my GPS, and came up with nothing.  I called them and found that the address was not Las Vegas, but a little village, Blue Diamond.  She gave me directions that led me right to them.  The Motel had a nearby restaurant and several attractions, including a horse riding stable, a Wild West town and a petting zoo.  It was right in the Red Rock Canyon area, and some enormously beautiful rock formations backed the motel complex.  Joshua trees grew in the nearby desert, and there were spectacular mountains everywhere I looked.

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Horses at Bonnie Springs Ranch.

I actually like the smell of horses, and I could take in their scent while I was outside while the peacocks were singing their haunting call.  I had dinner that night at the local restaurant, which overlooked a pond full of ducks and turtles.  Peacocks wandered the grounds, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace in this environment.  Anni was my waitress, a woman originally from Yugoslavia, whose husband was an aspiring writer.  I gave her some tips, ate, then fell into bed to sleep the sleep of the dead.  Bonnie Springs will be one of the settings in the yet unnamed post apocalyptic series I’m developing.  It was isolated and had its own water supply.   What more would you want in a refuge from the apocalypse.

Day 2:  Monday

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Turtles at the Bonnie Springs Ranch Restaurant.

The next day I awoke, ate breakfast while watching the ducks and turtles, then started out.  First target was an overlook in the Spring Mountains I had found on Google Earth.  Beautiful drive, great rock formations the entire way, and desert gave way to sparse pine forest.  Not enough turnoffs for pictures, a constant complaint.  I turned off onto one of the mountains, aiming for that overlook that was supposed to give a view of the Vegas flatlands.  I got up there, and was disappointed that the overlook was on private property with no trespassing signs posted all over the entrance.  I drove on a little ways, got up to just under 9,000 feet, and turned around to head for my second target of the day, Death Valley.  From high to low.

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Spring Mountains west of Las Vegas

I headed up US 95, a four lane road about a third of the way,  then two lane, until I hit the turnoff to Death Valley in Beatty.  A family of wild burros was crossing the road at one point.  Beautiful animals, feral, but not so wild that they avoided humans.  One thing I wish Nevada would do is put more pull offs on their highways (I say again).  Every couple of miles there was another spectacular mountain range across a wide flat valley, and nowhere to pull off to get a picture.  This was the basin and range territory, arid desert leading up to bare rock mountains.  What the young man in me who had studied geology wanted to see.  From Beatty I took Highway 384, which became Daylight Pass Road in the park.

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The Barren Grandure of Death Valley.

The temperature was about 113 most of the way, but didn’t feel that bad the little bit of time I was out in it.  That was soon to change.  More great formations into the National Park, and a couple of miles later the valley was revealed in all its stark splendor.  Spectacular mountains surrounding the flat section that was hell on Earth.  I passed the Borax works that had been the major industry of the valley, recalling the TV series Death Valley Days, which had featured an advertisement for Twenty Mule Team Borax.  Hard to believe that people actually worked out in this hell in the pre-air-conditioned days.  How in the hell did they sleep at night?

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The Depths of Hell.

I drove down to Furnace Creek, on Beatty Rd from Hell’s Gate, all well named, where the visitors center was located.  My GPS was set for elevation, and I looked in wonder as it went into negative numbers.  And the deeper it went into the negative the hotter it got.  At one hundred feet below sea level it was at 120.  At one fifty below it hit 122.  Eventually I got down to just under two hundred, and the temp was 125.  Furnace Creek was at 198 feet below, and the temp was 123.  Wasn’t sweating, but the heat was enervating in the extreme.  Someone had compared it to sticking your head in an oven.  Good comparison.  Continued driving south after stopping at the visitor’s center, angling out of the park and back into Nevada.  I stopped at the town of Pahrump, Nevada, and mentioned to the cashier of the convenience store I had stopped at as to how hot Death Valley had been.  She said that Pahrump was the gates of hell, and Death Valley was hell.  Meanwhile the radio was blaring that it was storming in Vegas, with heavy hail, something I wanted to avoid.  Drove the back way, Nevada 180,  that led me to Red Rock Canyon and to the motel, and saw another family of burros crossing the road.  I ate an Elk burger at the restaurant and slept through another night, ready for the big adventure the next day.  I really enjoyed the Bonnie Springs Ranch Motel, and will probably stay there again when I visit this area.  Friendly people, comfortable accommodations, beautiful scenery.  The next day I was leaving, heading into the Grand Canyon.

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Hell’s Resort.

Filed under: science Fiction, self publishing, Writing Tagged: Bonnie Springs Ranch, California, Death Valley, Furnace Creek, Mojave Desert, Nevada, Red Rock Canyon, Travel, Wild Burrows

Exodus: Machine War: Book 4: Retribution is out, and I’m headed to Nevada, again.

 

 

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I put Exodus: Machine War: Book 4: Retribution, up on Amazon last night, so it should be out on all the Amazon sites around the world.  In fact, it has already sold some copies in the US without any notifications by me.  And someone in the UK must have stayed up all night reading, then gave it a five star review.  It can be found on Amazon UK here.  This is, as titled, the fourth book in the series, Machine Wars, which takes place outside of the Empire.  Humanity had developed autonomous war machines centuries before, and, as they always seem to do, they revolted.  The Empire thought they had destroyed all of them, but one got away, and reestablished itself outside the Empire.  Its mission, to kill all life, paying particular attention to the intelligent variety.  I originally started this series so I could have another bunch of stories to play with when I was at a dead end in Empires at War.  Anyway, I have a trip to prepare for, and will be blogging about when I get back.  The new Website will be up next month, and I’ll post my panels at DragonCon as soon as I know them.  And here’s an excerpt.

 

“I’m still not really sure what they’re up to, ma’am,” said the fleet tactical officer, Captain Lyndsey Quan, looking up from her board.

The plot was showing the thousands of enemy ships, twice as many as they had picked up when they first entered the system, moving out to meet them.  The ships were boosting at various rates, and it seemed the Machines were trying to get their forces into close engagement range en mass.  Bednarczyk wasn’t sure if that was the smart play, since a lot of those ships would be taking a longer time reaching her, which meant she could bring them under long range fire for a much greater period of time.

“Send orders to Admiral Hahn,” said Beata to the fleet com officer.  “I want him to move his ships around in hyper and set up to take the antimatter production satellites under fire from that point.  He is to continue firing at his prerogative.”

Tiberius Hahn had been her battle fleet commander, in charge of the bulk of the combat ships, since the Battle of Bolthole.  His ships were all hyper VI, lea by a brand new superbattleship, one of the last to come off the building slips.  He had one half of her capital ships, but most importantly forty percent of the wormholes.  As long as they were out here beyond the barrier they could maneuver around the system before the enemy could get to any of them.

“And what the hell is that?” she asked, pointing to the very large icon on the plot, moving out of the orbit of one of the closer gas giants at twenty gravities.  “Is it what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a planet killer, then yes ma’am, that’s what it is.”

“So this is where the last one is,” said Captain James Rodriguez, her chief of staff.

“If you assume that’s the last one,” said Beata, looking back at the old captain.  “That’s an assumption I’m not willing to make.  And I definitely don’t want that thing closing with us.”

The planet killer was a hundred kilometers in diameter, with armor over five kilometers thick.  It had lasers that could vaporize any ship in her fleet at under a light minute’s distance, and particle beam generators more powerful than her wormhole weapons.  Its major weaknesses were its acceleration and its terminal velocity for entering hyper.  It could only accelerate at twenty gravities, making it a scow compared to any of her ships.  And it could jump to hyper at a maximum of point one light, verses the point three of her ships.  It was a devastating offensive weapon, since, if it was coming into a system and heading toward something that needed defending, it had to be stopped, which could mean coming into close range.  As a defensive weapon it was not quite as powerful.  It could be avoided, and if in orbit around something important, it could be bypassed by moving launching platforms to different vectors.  If she had been in charge of the thing, it would have remained hidden near one of the most important assets of the system, ready to use its lasers wide beam to take out incoming missiles.  Or possibly catch one of her task groups unawares.

“Shall we launch on it, ma’am?”

“Not yet.  We have missiles with warheads in the tubes, and they can destroy those with wide angle lasers.  Which, if they are using their computer brains, that thing will be putting out continuously within the next couple of hours, well before our weapons can reach them.  We’ll wait for those shots.”

“We should be getting visual on the supermetal planetoid at any minute ma’am.”

They had picked up the graviton signals of missiles engaging at three of the other five planetoids, and the fifth and sixth would be registering soon.  They had assumed they were doing damage to those planetoids, but they really didn’t know.  Now would come confirmation of at least one strike.

The view, brought in clear through gravity lens telescope, showed the planetoid with its defensive ships in orbit.  There were also some orbital defense platforms, lasers and missile batteries.  The surface was a maze of machinery.  Accelerator tubes, fusion reactors, millions of square kilometers of cooling systems.  What they couldn’t tell was if any of that machinery was weaponry, though Beata had to assume it was there.

Something flared on the view, one of the incoming missiles engaged and destroyed, followed by more.  The orbital weapons and ships could take them out quickly, if there weren’t too many. And there were eight hundred missiles coming in at point nine light, in an interval of less than a second.  Followed by two more after that.  Almost a hundred missiles had flared in space before the first hit was generated, one weapon striking a destroyer class robot warship, converting it to vapor.  Two more destroyers followed, then the prize, a battleship.  Close detonations took out groupings of orbital platforms, some more damaged smaller warships.  The first wave passed with no hits on the planetoid, though the defenses were degraded.  And they still knew nothing about surface defenses.

The second wave came in and destroyed more of the orbital assets, ships and platforms.  Now the weapons on the planet opened up as a greater mass of weapons made it through the outer defenses.  Lasers, particle beams and close in projectile weapons took out over two hundred weapons, most of those that made it past the outer defenses. And the first two hits were generated on that surface.  Bright flashes spread out over tens of thousands of square kilometers, digging deep into the surface, gouging large craters.  All machinery in those areas was totally vaporized, while the thermal wave radiating out destroyed a much larger area, and the seismic waves toppled structures and ripped connecting infrastructure apart further out.

The third wave came in, also losing most of its number while taking out more of the outer defenses, including a second battleship.  Surface installations again hit them, but almost forty made it through.  The result was almost total devastation on the surface, entire supermetal factories, thousands of reactors, millions of square kilometers of heat exchangers, blotted out of existence.  The thermal wave rolled around the surface, meeting on the other side, leaving no working facilities their wake.

“Yes,” said the tactical officer, pumping a fist in the air.

Bednarczyk was satisfied with the result.  Assuming the enemy didn’t lose this system at this time, it would take months to build the machinery for new production plants, and more months to put them in place and get them running.  On planetoids that might take even longer to get down to an efficient temperature for making the metals.

Now, if only the other strikes go so well, thought the admiral.  There was no reason to think they wouldn’t.  This strike had been overkill.  The planetoid could have been swept clean with half the hits they had achieved.

“Admiral Hahn’s force has jumped into hyper and are starting to work their way around, ma’am.”

Yes, everything was working out well.  Too well.  And that was worrisome.  And the clock was still ticking.

Filed under: Alien Invasion, Alien Life, eBooks, Far Future, Intelligent Life, Kindle, Military, Robots, science Fiction, self publishing, Space Industry, Writing Tagged: DragonCon, Exodus, Exodus: Empires at War: Machine War, Nevada