No, there are no snakes to be seen on Snake Road. That is a local name given to the road because it twists and turns like, well, a snake.

Please bear with me, this is rather long. I have taken to using this as my Guam diary.

This morning I headed out with every intention of going straight up to Anderson and exploring my way back. However, I rarely do what I intend to do when I walk out the door. Once I went out the back gate I went right instead of left and headed south into Agat. Halfway through the village I spotted a sign for Santa Rita so I took a left. (A right at that point would have put me into the ocean.)

The road headed almost immediately uphill. I was glad not to be on my bike. Santa Rita is a pretty little town. The houses nestle on the hillsides surrounded by yards and jungle growth. I spotted an apartment complex with a "For Rent sign and made a mental note to come back. The name of the complex was Gold Mine Apartments. Having been a landlord I did not think the management had slightest idea what they were thinking when they came up with that name.

The road continued uphill past a water treatment plant (for cleaning fresh water as opposed to a sewage treatment plant). It started to rain so I had to pull over for a while. I used the time to study my map which told me I would link up with the Cross Island Road, Route 17. When I got to that intersection I made a right and headed east to the other side of the island. I was in the high ground for sure now. The jungle was gone and the scrub brush dominated the scenery. And what a lovely vista I had. I could see down into green valleys where the scrub gave over to jungle again, there was a wide open blue sky, and the sun was bright. The trades blew constantly and the occasional palms tossed their fronds in the breezes.

I finally hooked up with Route 4 just south of Ylig Bay and headed north at last. Earlier in the week I had seen a poster advertising a show of photographs at the Island Arts Center at the University Of Guam. I decided today was a good day to track that area down and see the photos. Along the way I took an occasional side road to see where it would take me.

This is such a wonderful place. I would get on a 2 lane road and it would degrade till it was a single broken partially paved track leading into the jungle. And at the end of it would be 3 or 4 houses surrounded by junk cars and the detritus of life. Chickens ran everywhere and dogs drooped in the heat. The houses are not very big but most have a wide shaded veranda where it looks ike the families spend most of their time. I have seen living room type furniture there with TVs and charcoal grills and car parts and animal cages and you name it. Generally the veranda includes a picnic table as well. Often there is a car parked in there also.

I finally got to the UOG and found the arts center. It is in a converted concrete block house. The exhibit took up all the room. I couldn't see any evidence of any permanent exhibit except for a couple of glass cases with traditional basketry and carvings. The photos on display were taken from 1915 to 1917 by Mrs. ____ Paul, the wife of a Naval engineer stationed on Guam. They are wonderful studies of island homes, ways, festivals, work, and play.

After I left the campus I headed up to Anderson. I was getting hungry I thought I could score a good meal at one of the restaurants on the base. It took quite a while to get there. Travel on the island just seems to take longer than it would on the mainland. Back home I would figure on running to Brunswik and back to Bath in half an hour. Here that same distance seems to take three quarters of an hour one way! Of course part of the problem is the island speed limit of 35 mph. But there is a lot of traffic as well once you get into the northern part of the island.

Once I got to Anderson I had to find a place to eat. Burger King surfaced almost immediately but I rejected that choice out of hand. Of course, I had never been to AAFB before so I was flying blind. I drove around and found the PX and the commissary (grocery store). There was a vendor selling barbeque outside the PX but when I put in my order she informed me all she had left was hotdogs. Not a good sign.

I visited the PX and thought it was better equipped than the Exchange at the Navy Base. The Commissary was better as well. Infact the whole base looks better than the Navy Base. Air Force bases as a rule always look better than Navy bases. I don't know why. Navy bases always look shabby for some reason.

Anyway, I headed out to find some food and always wound up back at BK so I finally succumbed to fate and bought a Whopper Junior and fries. I guess a $3 lunch is not too bad. It was worth every penny I paid for it by then. Breakfast had been a long time ago.

After that I headed out to find Tarague Beach. This was something I only knew from the map. I headed in the general direction that I thought it had to lie and found a sign the said "Beaches". This was promising. The 2 lane road wound off into the jungle so I followed it.

I'd like to stop here and offer some explanation of the geography of the island. This is a volcanic island (yeah you were right, Charley). The southern hills are extinct volcanoes. However, the northern end of the island is old coral reef thrust up through tectonic action and the receding sea. As such it is relatively flat ground but it is also high ground. The northern end of the island has no mountains but it is all cliffs that drop into the sea.

I kind of knew this but it was a dramatic realization when the road I was following took me through a cut in the gliffs and out upon a road literally cut into the side of the cliffs. Laid out below me was all of Tarague Bay. The cliffs fell to a flat plain that ran out to the sea. Below me was jungle that ended in white sand beaches and blue green ocean. Between the sand of the beaches and the surf line was a wide stretch of shallow water and reef. Trust me, this view was magnificent.

Unfortunately I couldn't watch it because I was quite literally suspended on the side of the cliff with air to my right and a rock wall on my left. And I was a long way up. The tree looked like little toys down there and I knew I'd have a long time as I fell to curse myself for a fool if I managed to drive off the road.

At the bottom the road ran left and right as it paralleled the beach. I went down to Tarague Beach where I found a busy campground and all that white sand, clear water, and white surf. It was amazing. It was also at this point that I realized that I had been on the island for almost a month and I had not yet seen a woman in a swim suit. The skimpiest bathing gear I have seen so far was on children. The women must come out to sunbath somewhere…

I visited Tarague, Sirena, and Pati beaches. The scenery just took my breath. I have seen beaches in Maine, the Carribean, Florida, California and the Mediteranean. I have never seen anything as beautiful as Tarague Bay. It caps them all.

I tore myself away from all this and made my way back up that cliff road. I was tired and my head was aching from the heat. I used my a/c for a while but I eventually turned it off and opened up the truck. I wanted the air on my face and the sun on my arm. At the top I was ready to turn right and head back when I spotted a sign that said simply "Scenic Overlook" and an arrow pointed left. What could I do? I turned left. The road wound up between industrial type buildings and paved areas with helicopters. Overhead a big cargo jet thundered into the air. The I came to a place where the road turned right and a sign pointed left into a field. I turned and drove across the grass to see a stainless steel rail set in a concrete wall. I left the truck and stepped up to the rail.

Oh, I wish I was writer enough to express what I saw there. All that I have described was laid out below me in a long sweep of jungle and sand and reef and water. The colors were all so brilliant and clean. And way off in the distance hulked the island of Rota, the next one in the chain. It's forty miles off but it is very clear in the clean Pacific air.

I tried to take a picture but my little camera wasn't up to the task. It was at that point I realized I really need to buy a good camera.

Oh, and as an illustration of how high and far I was from the beach, I couldn't discern the people I knew where down there. The cars were mere dots. I am talking a very real and very high cliff. My mother suffers from a fear of heights. She has already said the heat and snakes are enough to keep her away from Guam. The scenic overlooks would be the final straw in firming her resolve.

As I drove back to the gate I stopped at a sign that identified a relic B-52 bomber. I could see just inside the jungle a piece of a wing. A trail led in to it so I headed in. There is a sign in there that identifies the tail sectin as a piece of Old 100. Apparently this was one of the last 3 bombers to bomb Viet Nam at the end of that war. After the war the plane was displayed in the base park but age and corrosion led the safety officer to condemn it as unsafe. The plane was then scheduled to be broken up as part of (get this) the Strategic Arms Limitations Treaty (SALT). Let's think about this. SALT was intended to rid the world of some of the weapons of mass destruction. And what did the Reagan administration include in the American numbers? This aged and decrepit display aircraft. Be that as it may be, the Air Force was not forced to destroy Old 100. A typhoon did that. The tail section disappeared for a while until another typhoon stripped off the jungle and revealed its hiding place. So the local Boy Scout Troop created a memorial for it in place.

I stayed only long enough to read the sign and urinate on the last Viet Nam bomber before I headed south. By now I was very tired. It had been a long day.

I detoured down through hotel row, the center of tourist activities. The local tourist department has come under fire for not working hard enough to attract tourists to the island. I can't testify to their effectiveness but the center of tourist activity is definitely one of the quieter areas on the island. There was little traffic and very few people in the streets.

I got back on Marine Drive and pushed on south. Then as I came up on the Chamorro Village I realized I had not yet bought any presents to send home. And that is the best place I have seen yet for tourist trinkets. I stopped in and bought a couple of pretty bandanas for daughter number 3 who will be soon losing her hair (temporarily) to her chemotherapy. I also got her a Chamorro coloring book and a woven strawgrass sea turtle. I bought daughter number 2 a bracelet and a carved porpoise and daughter number 1 got a ___. I can't say it here because she is the one who is monitoring this thread. And I got Charley Noble a ___. Of course, he will have to wait for the package to arrive to find out exactly what it is but he has been such a good friend and he has always wanted a ___ I couldn't resist. I plan to go back to pick up more island trinkets for certain other friends as well.

I also bought myself a CD of traditional Chamorro chants. It is very interesting. The chants are in Chamorran of course and combine men's and women's voices as well as hand clapping and some form of rhythm instrument. I need to read the liner notes before I can offer more than that but these are definitely doable from the stage with audience participation.

I headed south but made one more detour. I wanted to stop and get the phone number for the Gold Mine Apartments complex. When I got there I saw they had canopies set up in the back and there were people there. I walked back and asked for the manager. A tiny Chamorro woman in a denim skirt grabbed her keys and led me up to look at the apartment. It was on the second floor and was very clean. It had recently been renovated. She proudly showed me the new refrigerator and range and explained that both bedrooms were air conditioned. There was a balcony on the back of the place with the hookup for a washing machine and a deep sink. The apartment was tine, only four rooms, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen/dining/living room. Even as reduced as my possessions are I could not fit into that place. And the rent for this magnificent palace? $650 per month plus electricity.

After that I drove through Santa Rita again and on one of the side streets I noticed a "House For Sale" sign. "What the hell!" I thought and made the turn. I followed the single lane uphill past crumbling ruined houses and places that were surrounded by junk. Anther turn took me down hill and then I saw the place. Perched above the town and staring out at the sunset was a magnificent pink stucco mansion with huge windows and sculpted grounds. It was protected by a concrete wall and iron gates. When I got home I looked it up on the internet. They only want $600,000 for it or they will rent it out for $4000 per month. I wonder if electricity is extra?

So that was my day. I am tired now and will rest.