Signs of the times from the Pueblo Union Depot circa 1889.

Reblogged from inlandwest

inlandwest:

Petrified Forest, Northern Arizona

Due to the theft of petrified wood chunks by visitors the process of entering (and exiting) Petrified Forest National Park feels like a cross between an episode of A&E’s Beyond Scared Straight and a TSA security screening.  But once you get past the gates, the hassles fades away and you find yourself under the giant blue sky, staring into the seemingly endless Painted Desert.

Petrified Forest was designated as a National Monument in 1906, after Theodore Roosevelt signed the Antiquities Act of that year.  Arizona would not become a state until six years later, and Petrified Forest would not become a National Park until 1962.

Just over 600,000 visitors a year come to see the 146 square miles (380 km²) of surprisingly varied desert.  Entering the park, you are greeted by scrubby pale desert that soon gives way to the reds and pinks of the Chinle formation that makes up the gorgeous Painted Desert.  As you continue down the park’s main road the land changes and you encounter wide grasslands, classic badlands, canyons, Pueblo ruins, petroglyphs, part of the fabled Route 66, and finally the remains of ancient petrified forests.

“The Painted Desert extends for 300 miles along the north bank of the Little Colorado-a stretch of vividly banded earth beneath a brilliant sky; at times even the air above this lonely land glows with a pink mist or a purple haze.  Eons of rain and wind have exposed the highly-colored shales, marls, and sandstones.  Warm, almost unreal tints waver across the sands, dance along the mesa tops, stain the lomas and ledges, and splash scarlet hues for horizon to horizon.”

-Arizona, A State Guide, 1940

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Petrified Forest Shrinks, One Stolen Piece at a Time, NYT

Petrified National Park  

For The American Guide

Reblogged from latimes

latimes:

The saga of a lost iPhone

For many people, losing their phone is an inconvenience, but for Times reporter Nita Lelyveld, losing her iPhone prompted the realization of just how indispensable the device is as the hours and days ticked by.

While she had the ability to spot the location of her phone, and she was badgering it with text messages in hope of reaching a good mobile Samaritan, the iPhone remained lost, and her calls for help went unanswered.

By now I’d realized that everything on my phone was backed up. This wasn’t about lost photos — or even, really, the phone.

I felt toyed with. I was angry. I was ready to get mean.

I decided I would make my phone play its “find me” ping each time it was turned on.

I had also discovered that if I put it in something called Lost Mode, I could have it display a big message — filling the screen.

To Anaheim, I sent stern words: “I’m watching you! Return my phone.”

Find out how phone and owner were finally reunited over at our latest Column One feature, or follow Nita on Twitter over at @LATimescitybeat.

Photos: Nita Lelyveld / Los Angeles Times