Twelve Monkeys

Day One : Here We Go Again

Days 2-3 : On the Second Day...

Day Four : Venturing Fourth
Days 5-6 : Pleading the Fifth

Days 7-8 : Lucky Seven

Days 9-10 : Niner Niner
Day 11 : These Go To Eleven

I pretty much couldn't wait to get out of Lovelock. The RV park we'd settled for was rundown and sketchy, complete with a creeper sitting outside of his "motel room" that would just watch you walk to the keycode-protected restroom. We got on the road early, and stopped briefly in Battle Mountain to pick up some groceries.

Since we were still on our way to the next planned destination -- Wendover -- and it was a few hours distant, when we saw a sign for the California Trail Interpretative Center, I suggested we stop. If nothing else, we could stretch our legs.

The center is a Bureau of Land Management facility, and when I saw the National Parks Passport books for sale in the gift shop, I figured that meant they had a stamp. Sure enough, the stamping station was near the entrance to the exhibits, so I jogged back out to the RV to grab mom's book.

The exhibits focus on the hardships encountered by those traveling west, concentrating on the California Trail, but also the Oregon Trail. Of course, the infamous Donner Party disaster is covered in depth, including placing the blame on the Emigrant's Guide to Oregon and California trail book writer, Lansford Hastings. His supposed shortcut, the so-called "Hastings Cutoff" actually added a significant distance to an already arduous journey, and led at least in part to the Donner Party debacle.

Hiking around the west end of the Hastings Cutoff

Back on the road, we were less than an hour from Wendover and the salt flats! Soon, we could see the white landscape in the foreground.

While we were checking out the Victory Highway, we saw four or five helicopters coming in from the west. When we went over to the Wendover Historic Airfield, we saw the helicopters and their crew gathered around.

The airfield's museum doubles as an office/airfield operations, which was interesting. We watched a short film about the history of the airfield, and it dawned on me.

It was August 6th. The 70th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima.

A model of the Enola Gay

A dummy bomb used in training. This one was a version of Little Boy, the bomb dropped by the Enola Gay

The hangar we used to lean on during impound at the Wendover ProSolos. It also housed the Enola Gay before it went to the Philippines, and from there, Japan.

We drove back through town, looking at some of the historic structures. There have been improvements to some of them since the last time I was here, and certainly since the last ProSolo that I attended, in 2008. It's amazing to know that at its height, Wendover was the home to over 20,000 military and civilians. Many of the old dormitories have fallen down, but there are active restorations going on at the air base. Maybe, just maybe, they'll achieve a National Historic Park status and federal funds will help with some of it.

From Wendover proper, we headed over to the Salt Flats Cafe for lunch before going to the salt flats themselves. Mom was impressed by the food, both the quality and the cost. While there, I looked at the SCTA/BNI website to see what would have been going on if Speed Week hadn't been cancelled. We knew before stopping here that the salt was deemed too wet and they hadn't been able to find a continuous area for the land speed trials, and August 6th would have been tech day.

The salt was certainly sticky, which meant it had a lot of moisture still in it. In any event, at least it wasn't an ocean like the last time I came by.

It seemed weird to not be driving out on it in my own car. I knew this would be the case, which is one reason why I brought the diecast Camaro with me.

It's not quite the same.

I also brought two diecast GT40s. And after consulting with mom, we decided it was time for another "deposit," though the airfield probably would have been a more appropriate area.

My own personal #speedweek, dad. #Missyou! #Loveyou!

A photo posted by Karen (@kiirenza) on Aug 6, 2015 at 2:12pm PDT

It was really hard to see. Between the tears, and the sun reflecting off the salt, I may as well have been blind.

Back on the road, we were supposed to be going to some Pony Express sites south of Salt Lake City to wrap up the day. However, the Garmin Nuvi directed us straight to a strip mall in South Jordan. Traffic around SLC had been terrible, and I was not in the mood to turn around and just drive through it again. Trying to find either Camp Floyd or Simpson Springs at that point showed we should have cut down from I-80 before even getting to SLC.

Mom suggested Timpanogos Cave in American Fork, so I keep going south on I-15. Then she changes her mind because the visitor center closed at 6PM, and the cave tours were long done for the day. I was flustered; at this point, I'm starting to be concerned about finding an RV site that isn't as downtrodden as the one in Lovelock. I suggest staying in the area and going to the cave first thing in the morning.

Finally, she says she has one, and it's over an hour south of American Fork. I shrug and keep driving. For some reason, she keeps looking for a place, and finally says she has something better. I'm a good forty miles south of American Fork at this point, and when I ask, "Where?" her response is "Park City."

I was floored. Park City was completely in the wrong direction. Besides the two Pony Express sites that I already knew were out of the question, the next thing on the itinerary was the Spiral Jetty, and that was north of SLC. Park City was east. And it also meant the cave was not happening.

I literally didn't say anything for the rest of the trip to Park City. Going up the mountain on I-80 outside of SLC was at a miserable 45mph, so that the RV's motor wasn't screaming at 5000rpm to try to maintain a more traffic-friendly speed. The exit finally came up, and after one wrong turn, we found the RV park and I got backed into our space. The showers were at least nice, even if the restroom for the lower-side RV people was a bit dumpy.

Fortunately, we were both still fairly full from lunch, so dinner wasn't necessary. I pulled out the road atlas, my cell phone, a notepad and a pen, and went to work plotting out exactly where we were going, approximately how much time it would take to get to each place, and finished with a list of prospective RV parks (and phone numbers) that I found via Google. I no longer wanted to deal with last minute-oh-my-god-there-isn't-anything-in-a-two-hour-radius-with-electricity. I hadn't done this previously because when I was working on the itinerary, mom had assured me that finding a place wasn't a big deal, citing her experiences during the trips with dad.

Lesson learned.

So, the next morning, we headed off to Promontory to see the Spiral Jetty. We had to drive past the Golden Spike Historic Site, where the road becomes unpaved, and continue for another fifteen miles. It was a rough going, as the RV felt more stiffly sprung than my WRX on the ASTs, but we finally arrived. To our surprise, there was actually someone else already there.

It doesn't look like the pictures when the water level is down

The structure actually is very large

I wasn't expecting such a huge structure. I walked down to it, but couldn't really take a picture that showed what I wanted.

Before we left, I remembered mom saying something about adjusting the air shocks on the RV after the tire installation, so I suggested softening them up. She seemed skeptical, but after dropping the pressures, the ride back to the Golden Spike site was immensely easier.

A receation of the scene

The Golden Spike visitor center is about the joining of two rail lines in Promontory after a Congressional push for a transcontinental railroad. What I learned is that because it was a Congressional push, there was government money involved, and so there was a bit of a money grab. The two railroad companies were paid by the mile, and actually passed each other by quite a distance before Congress put a halt to it and said that the lines should meet in Promontory.

A special laurel tie and four special spikes -- 3 of them golden, and one silver -- marked the site

Original piece of rail from the event

HO scale diorama

It was also at this visitor center that I broke down and got my own National Parks Passport. Of course, I got the "explorer" version, where you can add more pages as necessary, after seeing mom and dad's "three volume set" and mom always trying to figure out which book had room in which region.

Our next destination was Fossil Butte, which was about three hours away via US89 and some state roads. That actually made me happy, as I did not want to have to deal with I-80 outside Park City again, much less the more gradual hill heading into Wyoming.

A hawk outside the Golden Spike site

Rick's Spring, in the Cache National Forest

Some flowers near Rick's Spring

After driving through the Cache National Forest and around Bear Lake, we enter Wyoming and find ourselves on US30. We're maybe ten minutes from Fossil Butte, when I see a green sign that says SAGE with an arrow to the right. I hit the brakes hard enough that a six pack of beer that was sitting on the floor next to the beds slides up almost beside me.

It's a ghost town.

Talk about depressing.

We pressed on to Fossil Butte National Monument.

A Chisternon undatum juvenile 

An awesome diorama showing what the Fossil Butte area must have looked like millions of years ago

Since mom wasn't up for any of the hikes in the area, we rolled down US30 to Granger.

Rabbits in the pioneer cemetery

The South Bend stage station, which has new interpretative panels

The remains of a blacksmith shop

As we prepared to leave, a man came down the street to thank us for stopping by. He shed some light on the fallen structure (that it was the blacksmith shop), and told us that the interpretive panels had been installed just this past spring. He also asked how we found the site, so I told him that I was actually revisiting, but the first time was due to the brown informational sign on US30 on the way from Kemmerer. Maybe they are trying to entice more people to visit?

It looked like camping in the Green River area was out of the question, so we made our way to Rawlins for the night. It was more of a trailer park with a handful of RV spots, but it was a clean place to stay, and we had a spot right up front. There was even a strong enough wifi signal that I could backup some of the myriad photos I'd taken on my phone.

But first, I did the same thing I'd done the night before, and plotted out a detailed itinerary with times and possible RV sites.

No Particular Place To Go

This is part V of an extended version of the yearly road trip writeup. You may wish to visit Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Evanston in the morning is a bit chilly, but I was still a little worried about the weird vibration from the night before. As I was checking out, I asked the hotel clerk if it was going to be a problem for me to be removing a wheel from and possibly working on my car in the hotel parking lot. Her response was, "This is Wyoming. You can pretty much do what you want here." With that blessing, I jacked the car up and pulled the passenger front wheel.

No missing weights, no loose endlinks, nothing I could see to account for the vibration. There were a lot of nasty bugs stuck on the inside of the wheel, but I didn't think they could affect the balance that much. But, on the off chance there was something I couldn't see, I took it to a DIY car wash, where I promptly managed to cut my knuckles on the front license plate and bleed all over. Nice. I considered it a blood sacrifice to make it to Toledo safely, and then got on the road.

There was no drama on the trek towards Green River, so when I saw the sign for Fossil Butte National Monument, I decided to jump off I-80 and head towards Kemmerer. It turns out that it's a lot further from the interstate than I thought, but that was okay, as I had plenty of time to get to Toledo before Wednesday night.

Random railroad crossing

Wish I'd been able to capture a train too.

I went through a cloud of locusts right after I washed the car. This one was still moving 10 minutes later. Ugh.

The colors of the rocks at Fossil Butte are amazing. Maybe they aren't as dramatic as the Yellow Mounds in the Badlands or the Painted Desert, but it's still a sight to see.

The visitor center has an incredible diversity of fossils from the beds -- plants, animals, seeds, embryos! Everything. If you can't visualize what that ecosystem looked like from their collection, you have no imagination.

Bowfin

Mioplosus labracoides, a predatory fish

Gar

Paddlefish with Knightia (the small fish)

Seeds

Knightia meeting a grisly end

Hummelichelys guttata with teeth marks in its shell

Echmatemys with teeth marks

Protohippus

Chisternon undatum, extinct

Soft-shelled Apalone heteroglypta (with Knightia)

This Axestemys byssinus was larger than me! It's another soft-shelled turtle

Stingray

I didn't take a lot of plant photos, but this frond (and a matching on on the other side of the case) was almost as tall as me!

A horsetail/rush, with several juvenile Knightia

Two different layers; these fish died many years apart

This guy was much more personable than the one at the Badlands.

Heading back towards the highway, I considered hiking the Historic Quarry Trail (2.5 miles roundtrip), but then decided that it might take longer than I wanted. So, it was back on the road, to US30, which I stayed on through Kemmerer and towards Green River until I saw a sign for "Granger Station". I didn't know what it was, but it was only 1/4mi off the road, so I detoured into the tiny town (less than 150 inhabitants) of Granger. The first historic marker I saw took me to a pioneer community graveyard.

Most of the graves here are unmarked and unknown. The last burial was in 1942, and it is mostly infants and children, but that is sadly typical of pioneer cemeteries.

The other historical site in Granger is the Granger Station, first established in 1850 as a wayside for those traveling the Oregon Trail, then later used as a Pony Express Station and as a train station. The railroad coming to town is what allowed Granger to incorporate as a town in 1914.

The main structure is about the same size as the Pony Express station in Gothenburg.

This additional portion may have been stables or something else in the past, but has long since gone into disrepair.

My curiosity got the better of me; I lifted up the boards and found a cobwebby well underneath of them.

The doors were nailed shut, but you could see through the windows the building was empty.

The railroad still passes through Granger to this day.

Another claim to fame is that Mark Twain once stopped at this very station, which I discovered after I'd left.

From Granger, I headed back towards Green River and then I decided to check out the Flaming Gorge. This is another one that I really wish had said how far from the interstate it was, since it was even further. With few paved roads as options across Wyoming, this would mean that I wouldn't get very much past Rock Springs within the first several hours of leaving Evanston! But some of the views were worth it.

It looks barren, but it's teeming with its own diverse lifeforms.

There are also tons of fossils throughout the Green River formations.

Once you get into the northern reaches of Utah, there are signs along the road saying which epoch or age you are at (like the Jurassic or Cambrian age).

Around Sheep Creek Bay, you start to see some of the layers for which Flaming Gorge is named.

 

 

Sheep Creek Bay of the Flaming Gorge Reservoir

The road to the overlook

Swett Homestead from the Greendale overlook

I didn't see any. :(

Swett Homestead

Carter Creek Bridge from the Cedar Springs overlook

Carter Creek Bridge

Flaming Gorge Dam from the Visitor Center

They are very, very worried about invasive aquatic species in the Western states. This is from Lake Meade, after just 3-4 days in the water.

Flaming Gorge Dam

A real cowboy, herding cows towards a pond. He seemed amused by me taking a picture of him

Yellow rocks overlooking the Clay Basin

Clay Basin

Eventually, I made my way back to I-80 at Rock Springs, then pushed on towards Cheyenne and Nebraska. I knew my time away from the interstate was going to hurt me, but I was seeing such awesome stuff and meeting interesting people, so I didn't so much care. It was funny at Fossil Butte that one of the women at the Visitor Center saw my Washington Capitals hat and exclaimed how much her son would love to know that a Caps fan had stopped by tiny Kemmerer. Then I told her I was a season ticket holder, and she was extremely amused. But, I guess Caps fans don't venture outside DC too often, or if they do, they don't advertise their hockey affiliation. ;)

I tried finding a hotel in Sidney, Nebraska (home of Cabela's) to no avail, so I ended up driving another 90 long minutes to North Platte. The vibration had stayed away for most all of the day until I'd gotten into Nebraska, and it was still only in right hand sweeping turns at speed. If I was just changing lanes, it wouldn't happen, and if I slowed down to 60-70mph, it didn't happen. I was still perplexed, but I'd hopefully be in Toledo the next evening and PURE Tuning could look at it and hopefully fix it. 

Next up : Bad Vibes