Author Archives: smivic

On a recent Sunday I was struggling through the better part of a six hour drive, headed home after a whirlwind weekend, climbing east across the Mojave Desert on an Interstate Highway.  On my right were brown mountains, pushed, tilted, … Continue reading →

I got a Report To Citizens from our County Manager yesterday. The eye candy, pictures of water on this arid land, jumped out, especially picture of the waterfall, the Grand Falls of the Little Colorado. It was only 40 miles … Continue reading →

Icicles dangled quietly from the roof of the railroad building across Route 66 as my neighbor and I ate pork green chile breakfasts. We live in snow country, maybe a hundred inches a year, so of course we were talking … Continue reading →

I was on the road, leading a tour group from Flagstaff to Winslow, a day trip, a journey back in time. We glimpsed an offramp leading to “Historic Route 66” and a long train carrying double-stacked containers. We dropped onto … Continue reading →

A two-lane highway pushes south in front of us, through a land that looks old and slow, big trucks going by in a blur as they head north. My wife, her parents, and me are on a July day trip. … Continue reading →

The road rolls by. It is Saturday afternoon, the first day of another Road Scholar tour. This one, a photographic tour, is starting just 4 hours after my previous tour ended with a Colorado River float trip. I’m tired, but … Continue reading →

This is a story about what I hadn’t seen but could imagine. It started when my wife announced, “I saw two deer crossing the lane, at the railroad crossing”. “Railroad crossing?”, I asked “Yes” I thought, why not? I’ve been … Continue reading →

My t-shirt said “The mountains are calling and I must go”. I was there, sitting on a rock, in the high country of the eastern Sierra Nevada Mountains. Above me was the granite of the Sierra Crest. In front was … Continue reading →

I was driving along Highway 28 in Idaho, the Sacajawea Memorial Highway, through the Lemhi Valley, when I noticed a sign on my right, pointing east toward a smooth dirt road and a pass. The Beaverhead Mountains rose above the … Continue reading →

Comes The Rain I’m in my truck searching in the American West for the primordial magic of water. I’ve felt it in deserts, along creeks and rivers, and in the channels used to move water for human use. I’ve found … Continue reading →