stoutfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoutfellow) wrote2006-06-20 03:26 pm
stoutfellow) wrote2006-06-20 03:26 pm
Entry tags:
Friendly Skies
Wednesday. Whenever I fly between the Midwest and the West Coast, I try to get a window seat. I love viewing the western landscape from a great height. (The land is beautiful from any vantage, but I particularly enjoy overflights.) I was flying Frontier Airlines and had been slow to get my ticket, so I'd been assigned a middle seat, but the counterman shifted me to a window for both legs of the flight. (Since I was flying Frontier, I had to change planes in Denver. My late purchase had, harrumph, nothing to do with that.)
The skies were clear all the way from St. Louis to San Diego, and though I was tired enough (dogs, and pre-trip fretting) to catnap intermittently, there was much to see, especially on the second leg.
Look down on the peaks of the Rockies, spattered with snow even though it's mid-June.
Look down again, on the badlands. The land is carved, high and low: mesas overlook canyons, and off to the west, miles wide, is a giant's staircase.
Again: the land looks like bare rock, lightly sprinkled with ruddy dust, filigreed with dry watercourses; there, and again there, is an actual river.
Again: the rusty rocks are broken up by upthrusts of black rock - basalt, I'd assume; they are more and more frequent, and off to the west they achieve predominance.
Doze a bit, and look again. The land below is traditional desert, tan expanses of sand, suddenly interrupted by sharply delineated rectangles of green, dark and light both. We're into the thirsty but fertile farmland of the Imperial Valley, and the Salton Sea is just ahead.
One last view, as we pass over a final low range of mountains - the Cuyamacas, where my Scout troop often camped back in the '70s. (In 1971 the Cuyamacas went up in flames; we were camping that weekend, until a ranger came by and ordered us out. We made it out, but only just; it rained ashes over the city for a week or more. It's regrown, burned, and regrown again since then, and it's still beautiful country.) The descent is uneventful, and I'm back in the family stomping grounds.
The skies were clear all the way from St. Louis to San Diego, and though I was tired enough (dogs, and pre-trip fretting) to catnap intermittently, there was much to see, especially on the second leg.
Look down on the peaks of the Rockies, spattered with snow even though it's mid-June.
Look down again, on the badlands. The land is carved, high and low: mesas overlook canyons, and off to the west, miles wide, is a giant's staircase.
Again: the land looks like bare rock, lightly sprinkled with ruddy dust, filigreed with dry watercourses; there, and again there, is an actual river.
Again: the rusty rocks are broken up by upthrusts of black rock - basalt, I'd assume; they are more and more frequent, and off to the west they achieve predominance.
Doze a bit, and look again. The land below is traditional desert, tan expanses of sand, suddenly interrupted by sharply delineated rectangles of green, dark and light both. We're into the thirsty but fertile farmland of the Imperial Valley, and the Salton Sea is just ahead.
One last view, as we pass over a final low range of mountains - the Cuyamacas, where my Scout troop often camped back in the '70s. (In 1971 the Cuyamacas went up in flames; we were camping that weekend, until a ranger came by and ordered us out. We made it out, but only just; it rained ashes over the city for a week or more. It's regrown, burned, and regrown again since then, and it's still beautiful country.) The descent is uneventful, and I'm back in the family stomping grounds.
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oooo! I love flying over that area too!! I just love the Rockies!
One of my things to do is to hang out there sometime -- I've only ever been to the Canadian Rockies (banff area). Oh, and saw them from a distance (flew into Salt Lake City once).
What fun that must have been watching from the plane! I'm glad you could see it all!
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Lucky you!
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