Cruising is a fulfilling life style. It provides an ever changing mix of people, environment and challenges. When you are new to it there’s a sense of wonder. This comes from a combination of incredulity that it took so long to make the decision to get away, simple pleasure in the achievement, and just being afloat. After a while this new lifestyle becomes the norm; it can even grow a touch stale, and at some point a break is warranted.

Thirty years ago, when we were cruising full time with the kids, we’d move ashore once a year for three to six weeks. This left the boat free for maintenance projects, and gave all of us a chance to delve more deeply into the local milieu. We would come back aboard with a renewed sense of the uniqueness of our lifestyle. In more recent decades, with a home and water base, the change in scenery is, in theory, built in.

But there is a hitch.

Between the computer power we now have, its portability, and the ease of communicating from anywhere on the planet, it is possible to efficiently continue working on land and afloat. We love messing around with and creating boats with an ever changing view out the windows. But even this most ideal of situations can, without a break, grow stale. Of course one has the option of pulling the plug, turning off the computers, and just chilling. But in our case that plug is hard wired to keep producing.

This past winter we decided to try a variation, and spent a most invigorating period in Northern Arizona with our friend, photographer Joe Zinn. We are not very good at personal long range plans, but after that experience and sensing the need for a change, we agreed to spend a week in the fall with Joe in his backyard, during the change of seasons. Joe has been photographing the western United States with an emphasis on Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana for more than three decades. Tagging along meant we’d get a condensed taste of the area, with another opportunity to learn from the best.

The scenery varies from the sublime,

to the majestic.

There is an amazing abundance of wildlife. Herds of buffalo (bison) are everywhere in the Yellowstone park area.

We were fortunate to catch the beginning of the fall colors, nothing unusual for those accustomed to the cooler climes, but for desert dwellers/sailors, a visual treat.

There’s enough water to satisfy the need we both seem to have for this element of life.

Being fans of the early and late hours we are pleased to report the sunsets and sunrises are spectacular. They start well before the sun hits the horizon and last a half hour past sunset.

Much of the wildlife allows close examination, keeping in mind that, particularly in mating season, it pays to have an escape route handy.

At lower elevations the leaves were barely beginning to turn. We particularly appreciate the contrast this presents.

The creatures with whom we visited were prepping for winter. Thick coats are in style this year, giving credence to the forecast of another cold winter.

Keeping up with Joe means you are out of bed at 0500, in the car no later than 0545, so as to be in photographic position when the sun makes its entrance. You are not back in your lodgings before 2100, with another two or three hours of camera prep and downloading yet to go. Tiring? Yes. But when you see wings made translucent by the first rays of the sun, your heart sings, and lack of sleep is forgotten.

We have several sailing friends who have given up the cruising life for a shore based existence in this part of the world. We could never understand that decision.

Now we get it.

It is an amazing country.

This small taste has whetted our appetite. We are going to have to come back for a longer stay. Meanwhile, we are now back aboard Wind Horse for a last cruise before she is hauled out for a few projects (about which we shall elaborate in due course).

For a larger collection of high res photos from this area click here.