Houses of the Holy With the Farctic Ox

Houses of the Holy: Led Zeppelin? Nope. Churches? Nope, nothing religious. But more in the vane of Holy Cow, Holy Toledo or the mother of all holies "Holy Crap!" That's what will come to mind when you see these incredible places built under such hard to reach cliffs and ledges. I mean what was wrong with that lot on the golf course, lake or trout stream? And when you see one for the first time you'll come up with a "Holy" expletive for yourself. Meanwhile, when we left the Farctics up on the "Bluffs" in Arizona, it was with the promise of meeting up the following week in Utah for more hiking. These folks know how to get around! And I have now bought stock in LL Bean so I can afford to have all the gear Farctic has. How many ways are there to cook over and in a fire? Well I now have some new tricks I can't wait to try out on my next trip. And to think I've been happy with Dinty Moore all these years. And let me tell you how much fun we had and how we had sooo much in common. They had 2 daughters, I have 2 daughters. They like Arizona, I'm from Arizona. They are fun, witty and genuine people...I'm from Arizona. You get the picture. But first off let me show you something from my front yard. It was quite a suprise for us the morning we were leaving for the Houses of the Holy with the Farctics. They had been buds just the night before. Who would think that a desert plant would put out such a tropical looking flower? Before we left I had to put the finishing touches on my new thermal-nuclear oscillating Whazometer. (Pronounced Whaz-ahmeter, not Whaz-0-meter. That would be a silly name.) And right now for $19.95 you can have not one, but two Whazometers for both your vehicles. I know you'll be happy with the results. Out on the road and stopping for fuel I glance at the magazine rack, and there they are. I told you they get around, even on a magazine cover. After getting over the shock of seeing the Farctics on the cover of Outdoorzy Magazine, we find them having lunch across from Monument Valley. And a joyful reunion occurred! How joyful? How about party hats and whistles? Ok would you believe hugs and handshakes? Then on to the Goosenecks of the San Juan River, where we hoped the weather would not be fowl. After the Goosenecks it was on to Muley Point where the dastardly wind tried to blow us away. Having enough of that we headed on to Whazoo Springs Road where Farctic threw his truck about with reckless abandon. Would you believe just reckless? Ok, it was a slow drive as there was some slickrock that would pound a tc. But we made it without breaking an axle. In the morning off we went to some ruins seen in a previous trip report. "Ah, but I have a new camera!" he said with a 14 megapixel smile. Now I can take a picture that is 63inches x 42inches, big as my bedroom, but they still look the same when reduced for trip reports. Oh the irony. The Farctics signal that they've found a way down. Either that they're telling me a mountain lion is chasing them. I can't hear that well anymore. Huh? Here are 2 pictures from both sides of the land bridge we have to cross to get to the ruins, on top of the ancient island of petrified sand. Farctic shows off his super human strength gained by arm wrestling the Whazoo for a week straight. Farctic has a point there. Not sure why I thought this was a cool picture. Just a little paint brush next to a dead tree branch. Must be the new camera thing. I won't tell you how many pictures I took, but Mrs. Farctic was right there with me, pic for pic. On to the next campy spot, wasn't that fast? Farctic says "Trees? Trees don't stop a guy like me." Please leave a message... 5 am and the Farctics are restless... To once again go looking for ruins. Taking a wrong turn, if there is such a thing out here, we find another awesome camp spot for the next time. Ever show up for a date and find they're wearing the same thing you are? Don't you know our wives had fun with this. The making of a new western "Fistful of Donuts" not starring Clint Eastwood. I've got Farctic taking up some of my bad habits! The girls signal that they've found Cibola, the city of gold. We immediately pull out the knife to take a blood vow with threat of subcutaneous explosion if any of us EVER reveal this location. So don't even ask. Ok, would you believe it was just a pinky promise. The knife was rusty and subcutaneous explosions don't scare a guy like me. I had acne as a teenager. But we were still kindergarden serious about it all. And besides, with the pinky promise comes the triple threat of wet willies, noogies and the worst of all, the wedgie! Not Cibola after all. But it was still a city. A very small city as it was estimated to have 49 rooms. But first we had to get past the alien rock-head guard with a secret password. Which the Farctics did with style. Good thing I married a gal that likes to climb rocks. "Hi, come on in and have some corn and maybe some cactus berries." Now these are some ruins, with 2 different styles of construction covering a couple hundred years. A plaque inside said "Anasazi & Sons Construction 1200AD" It's wild how those mud walls hold up those huge boulders. This was obviously the smoking room. These pictures were taken in a hallway. An Anasazi hallway! Couldn't find the water closet though. Maybe that's the toiletee, down at the end of the hall. Once you've been "ruined" you tend to scour every ledge looking for more. Sneaking out past the "guard." Good thing BOTH our gals like to climb rocks, yeah baby! After such an incredible hike don't you know we had quite an appetite. What's that you have there Farctic? Looks good to me, surely I had some too. Notice the 2 beers sitting in front of my plate. That's how I got my Indian name "Two Beers." Or was that 2 Bears, I forget. Nah, 1 of them was for Fartic. However it was hard to get through dinner, what with my new camera calling every few minutes. Ok, would you believe it was Farctic himself, teasing me every time he looked out the window. "Whazoo! You gotta get this picture!" Took me an hour to finish dinner, & it was cold. Next morning finds us again...out taking pictures, of the road. Can't tell you why. "Sure hope that bus driver see us Mrs. Farctic!" But we are headed for that road over on Comb Ridge. And what a road that was to be. Or not to be. That was the question. A great view looking south at "The Comb." Hey batter, stee-rike one. Way to go Ump, I thought we were having a ball. Time to Rockerita the Whazimoto. We forgot to take a picture of the car upside down on the cliff, the pucker factor was quite high at that point. Here are 2 videos, my first, complments of Mr. Farctic. All dialog and directing by Farctic. Note to animal lovers...none of the 12 eggs in the refer were harmed in the making of this film. They were gleefully eaten, however, the next morning. Covered with salsa and Crazy Ed's hot sauce!! video of Whazimoto#1 video of Whazimoto#2 Finally making the grade, we take...more pictures. With the Hwy 95 cut through the "Comb" visible in the distance. Ghosts of Edward Abbey are dancing thru my head as I speak, er, type. Did you catch that Seldom Seen Smith? While having lunch with a view, there's a rustle in the bushes. Farctic tells me that if I can carch that critter and make a hat out of it I can write this trip report. And that's why I'm writing this trip report...again. Good thing it was a de-scent stripped squirrel. Happy Days, can I tell you how hard it is to keep my arm down for a picture? Hiking along the Comb Ridges we are diligent seekers of ruins. And how lucky can this group be? Extremely! Climbing down into the canyon we are searching for those ancient condominiums. And what a grand view they make. Coming around a corner we see him. He was a Whazasazi. (Sounds like a tongue twister to me. "Whazoo was a Whasasazi was he?") He was speaking in guttural utterances that sounded like onomatopoeia to me. What a goofball. I tried to keep the arm down, it was only a little arm. As we hike out of the canyon the Farctics agree, it was a pretty fandamtastic trip. Or are they trying to tell me they're being chased by a mountain lion? As we leave the Mesa, I am feeling punky. I've heard there is something oinking around, I mean going around. Hope I don't get it. Though I do have an insatiable desire to play in...mud. That's the end of Houses of the Holy with the Farctics. Keep smiling, you're on Whazoo Camera. Thanks for reading, Dave Rogers Post Script: We want to thank the Two Maineacs and other New englanders for the loan of the Farctics. It's with great sadness we send them back, after a fashion, and we look forward to another reunion in the Southwest. The trips were like magic, truly. And of the Cowboy Coffee grind-out between Farctic and me, well let me tell you my Cowboy coffee's got nothing on his New England brew. In fact his brew curled my toes so hard in my boots, gave me "clawfoot." I now use my toes to pry out rusty nails from boards, and scratch my wife's back. Originally posted on rv.net 5/06/09