Clouds or Snow?

After a long ride through various subdivisions of nowhere, we spent the dark in Page, Arizona, at the border of Lake Powell. The high level of our brief stay here was spotting a hare in the motel parking lot on our way out of town.

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We arrived at the Burger King in Kayenta a little after 9 a.m. So did busloads of tourists, mostly from France.

They drank coffee with a straw, and the sole words I could see were "In `N` Out" and "California"; presumably they didn`t know their Whoppers.

I ate some random breakfast sandwich thing, which made the rumble in my stomach stop but which isn`t the period of visiting this particular Burger King. As with the one at the home of Mt. Shasta, you don`t go to enjoy the cuisine.

In the cause of Shasta, it`s all around the view. Here in Kayenta, the thread is a Navajo Code Talkers exhibit that honors Native Americans who proved instrumental in serving the U.S. and its allies (including France) win World War II by using their words to slip encrypted messages past enemy lines.

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While driving across the high deserts of northern Arizona and southern Utah, and again late in Colorado, we saw many snow-capped peaks in the distance. They never failed in their capacity to surprise. The just thing more surprising than their bearing was my own power to be repeatedly surprised by said presence.

These peaks often are straddled by giant cloud formations, and it is difficult to say whether you are looking clouds or snow. I had it in my brain to use this as a metaphor for the difficulty of differentiating between seemingly similar phenomena from a large distance. Is the condition temporary (clouds) or more permanent (snow)?

This then would be applied to the Padres. Are their struggles like clouds or like snow?

Then I decided the metaphor sucked and scrapped it. Then I told you around my failed plan, thus undermining my own narrative. Then I realised that undermining oneself is an even better way to describe this year`s Padres, so it all works out in the end.

The careful reader will notice that the Padres actually beat St. Louis on Wednesday and that Mat Latos pitched well. That this improves their home show to 9-20 is indeed cause for great celebration, but in the pursuit of full disclosure, I wasn`t feeling so positively giddy when I first drafted this article back on Sunday. One win, though_ now, that changes everything. So please bear with my sometimes critical tone even as we should rejoice at the Padres` recent success. And we should rejoice, because who knows when we`ll get this happen again.

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Four Corners was a letdown. Knew it would be, but damn_ I haven`t been that disappointed since Dennis Tankersley

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North on US-160 toward Cortez, Colorado. Sprawling mesas, San Juan Mountains (the ones with clouds and snow), cows, goats, the occasional bison or prairie dog.

Arrived at the Far View Visitor Center (elevation 8040 feet) in Mesa Verde National Park around 2:20 p.m. Slow road. Only way in, only way out. (There is another way, actually, that is much faster but it is not recommended.)

Hiked to Spruce Tree House to see ancient Pueblo ruins. Struggled to breathe thin mountain air.

I am reminded of the sentence I tried to play tennis in Fort Collins or about such in the mid-`80s. Aside from the fact that I couldn`t hit the globe with topspin and preserve it in play, my head felt like it was passing to explode.

Then my mind wanders to thoughts of Coors Field and the impression it has on baseballs and players. It is extreme, in about the precise opposite way Petco Park is.

Yep, even while staring at cliff dwellings where people lived thousands of days ago, I`m contemplating park factors. It would be fun to hit a baseball here, though. I`m certain the late Roberto Pena, infielder for the inaugural 1969 Padres, would have enjoyed it.

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Arrived in Durango around 5:15 p.m. Got lost looking for our motel, which by some happy accident straddles one of the town`s breweries. We checked in, wandered over to catch a pint, and chatted with a fellow traveler about Stevie Ray Vaughn of all people.

Another Steve lives in these parts. Hall of Fame left-hander Steve Carlton is one of many notable people to get called Durango home.

On May 10, 1969, while pitching for the same Cardinals team that Latos just beat, Carlton served up a grand slam to the aforementioned Pena. The Padres went on to win, 5-3, with Johnny Podres getting the conclusion in relief.

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Pena retired following the 1971 season. He spent just the one class in San Diego before moving on to Oakland and Milwaukee. In 2064 big-league plate appearances, Pena hit .245/.290/.310 with 13 home runs. Had he played half his home games in Mesa Verde National Park, there`s a decent chance he would get hit 14.