Aha, fooled you! You thought his would be the last part of Skyline. Well, so did I but plans change - after all this is a vacation.

The morning was spent garage sale-ing in a number of these small towns. Junque. Once the excitement abated, we headed back to the camp, pulled up stakes, so to speak, and dieseled on up Hwy 31 out of Fairview over to Scofield State Park. Cool drive! Much color. Great road. Most of the 43 miles was done in 2nd gear or 3rd (going up and going down.) The drive down Eccles Canyon to Scofield was especially neat - even had to use 1st gear for engine braking! OK, OK, so not everyone thinks roads like this are cool.

In many of the small towns visited this morning, there were a bunch of old buildings, a lot with pretty interesting history and architecture. However, this one was noteworthy. Does it come as any surprise that the "native winery" went belly up - apparently a looong time ago?

The entire town of Scofield looks likes it's out of the 1920s. This is only one example.

This section of the Wasatch is loaded with coal. Scofield, a coal town in the early 1900s, was a town with over 3,000 people. Now it's about 100. May 1, 1900, there was an explosion in one of the coal mines that set off 24 kegs of black powder. 200 miners, some only 13 years old, were killed. Most of them are buried in the cemetery on a hill east of town.

Now, what's left of the town is noted for its recreation on Lake Scofield. This isn't the most scenic of all areas. Many of the hills have few trees. I'd spied a fantastic campsite back about 15 miles in the national forest but, alas, we stayed here instead.

Finally the clouds cleared around 6 - and no one parked next to us. It was breezy, 25 mph winds and a little cool - 62° - but still very nice.

As of this blabbering, it's 8 and the temperature has dropped to 40°. We're at 8,000 feet and I'll bet there'll be frost tonight. Time to crank up the heat, have a beer, finish this and see what's on satellite.

Tomorrow should be a better day.......

As usual, woke up at 7, but this time to a cold and very foggy morning. While it froze last night, it also became really foggy - couldn't even see the lake a couple hundred yards away. Bummer! So have some coffee, watch a little TV and think about what to do today. However, as of 8:30, the fog seems to be burning off and the temperature has risen to a whopping 35°.

By 9 it's looking better and by 10 most of the fog was gone, so hop into the Jeep and head out on what will turn out to be one of the longest, but prettiest days of all.

After a drive of about 30 miles on pavement (yuch!) to the beginning of Skyline drive off Hwy 6, the temperature was up to about 60. This is normally the first section of the Drive but given the backwards way I do things, will be our last section of the Drive (for this year.)

There's not a lot that can be said - this "short" trip turned into an 8 hour trip, most of the time spent gawking at the fall colors that lit up almost every mountain. Words truly fail to describe the road and the scenery.

It's my suspicion that we hit the Wasatch at its absolute fall peak - and there were a few others out on the Drive who thought so also. Good timing!

This section of Skyline was loaded with color: brilliant reds, yellows and golds with the bluest of blue sky.

7AM

9 AM

So after the first 30 miles of Skyline, got to a major highway that led back down to Fairview. This was the same road spent dieseling up yesterday. Since it was noonish, decided to drive down the 8 miles to town, had food, bought gas and motored back up the canyon.

The reward for this decision was some of the most beautiful scenery on the entire trip.

As we headed up, there were many others also pulled off the side of the road enjoying this most perfect fall day with incredible fall colors I could never imagine.

So after reaching the top, continued south on Skyline until we hooked up with Friday's road. This means that we've completed the entire Skyline Drive. (Well, I thought it was an enjoyable accomplishment!)

From there, retraced 3 miles of Friday's trip until reaching Bacon Rind Road (don't ask me, I didn't name it!) This rocky, allegedly 4WD road, led into Potter's canyon, a most delightful drive that once again was alive with fall colors everywhere.

There were a lot of folks out for Sunday drives and Sunday horseback rides on this road 40 miles from the nearest town. It was still quite pleasant however, even with the crowds: 2 horses and 5 vehicles.

So after getting temporarily discombobulated at Potter's Ponds (if you have gas in the tank, then you ain't lost) I finally got my bearings and we started back via Joe's Valley - a 40 mile long graben (look that one up in the dictionary.) What a great drive on a very good road.

Finally hit the paved highway (yuch!) and headed back to camp, arriving about 6, making this an 8 hour day. It was long but most enjoyable thanks to the colors, the interesting roads and the views from 10,000 feet.

It's now 8 PM, 40°, and the few people left in the campground are also running their generators. Tomorrow we'll have to say "adieu" to the Skyline and Wasatch. What a captivating few days!

So the next stop was the Railroad Museum in Helper. The museum has been open for 40 years now and is quite remarkable. It's in an old hotel in Helper, a small town north of Price. Helper was, and still is, the place where additional helper engines are added to freight trains to assist them in the steep ascent to Soldier Summit before heading downhill with their cargo to the west side of the Wasatch and Salt Lake City. The museum was chock full of just about anything you could think of, from railroad, to mining, to bootlegging, to world wars, to fires, floods, strikes and on and on and on. Neat place.

And now for some trivia (No, no, not more of that tripe!) Unfortunately this is my blog and I can write any damn thing I please - so there .

Now that that's over......the coal companies charged the miners for everything, including the blasting supplies the used in the mines! They charged them rent for the very small house, charged them for medical, and forced them to use the company store. Often times they owed more at the store than their meager salaries. I guess Tennessee Ernie was right when he sang "I owe my soul to the company store." Again, a lot more to this story also, but not for this blog. (Whew!)

Now to fun stuff learned at the museum. During Prohibition, the various ethnics made sure there were ample "adult beverages" for all. Stills were set up in the remote canyons. Some of the bootleg whisky was sent to places as far away as Chicago. The Italians were noted for their wine, "Dago Red." There are stories of bottles being hid in the bottom of laundry baskets. It was quite an industry.

Now all these exhibits about liquor caused me to develop a powerful thirst so stopped at the Pinnacle Brewing Company for lunch and a Pale Ale. But the Pale Ale was Amber. Discussion with the hired help proved futile. What they served was Pale Ale because that's what the tap handle said. I disagreed. Alas, it was to no avail, because the tap handle said Pale Ale. So I drank the Amber, ooops, I mean Pale Ale. My penance for this egregious error was to spend the next few hours in junque shops.

So head back down the hill to Price and stop at Pinnacle to get a growler of Hefe Weizen (I wasn't about to entertain another discussion about the Pale Ale!) Filling the growler seemed to tax the mental abilities of the wait staff as it took about 15 minutes. Another looong (15 minute) story. Example: "Is that a half gallon?" "Oh no, it says here 64 fluid ounces." I nodded appropriately.

While there, a couple guys from Halliburton were there, off duty I'm sure, celebrating another day of making money for Dick Cheney, and also drinking the Hefe Weizen. They were adamant that adding salt to the Hefe Weizen made it soooo much better. I nodded appropriately and mumbled "Hmm....." They were nice people and we had a nice (15 minute) talk but salt in Hefe Weizen?????????????

So 15 minutes later, with a full bottle, headed back to camp (without smiling in the campground), dropped it off and found a nice Greek restaurant (in Utah, in Price no less) for supper. After that, back here to sample the beer (it's very good and NOT Amber Ale) and mostly gone now - which explains the verboseness of this diatribe again.

Not sure about tomorrow- big clouds to the west and rumors of thunderstorms. We got to get out of this place, if it's the last thing we ever do. So we'll head out tomorrow after some shopping again (mall or no), and drive down toward Huntington State Park. Huntington is adjacent to the San Rafael Swell, a place where one can have a really swell time as evidenced by previous blogs but I'm too "tired" to figure out the links and add them here. Find 'em for yourself on my Jeep page.

After the museum, it was off to the WalMart mall to get supplies for the next week as there will be few opportunities to shop till you drop until we start to had home via the dreaded interstate. So while at WalMart, I was pleasantly reminded about the adult beverage situation. While I'd been carefully rationing my supply, it was prudent to perhaps replenish some of the supply for the next week. Not being one to be an Idiot Out Wandering Around in Walmart, I asked one of the overly joyful employees you oft see on TV if they had a liquor department. (Fortunately there was no friggin' goofy-assed smiley thing flying around that I had to dodge to avoid being bopped in the head by an errant price-slashed sign.) The overly joyful employee you oft see on TV laughed at my bizarre request, then scoffed at me saying, "Bud, this is Utah - what do you think?" My gracious reply was "Well then, where is the highly overpriced state liquor store? I need to replenish my supplies." She laughed and said she understood and gave me directions. As an added bonus, while shopping till I dropped, yet another very loud thunderstorm passed overhead.

After Walmart, tried to find the DABC store (Department of Alcohol Beverage Control) - now that's a bureaucratic name that even surpasses FEMA! On the opposite corner was, what turned out to be a delightful Italian restaurant. Why not? It was another great meal - and their homemade sausage was outstanding. Who would think - in Utah, in Price no less?

So after lunch, a quick run to the DABC store was in order to purchase some red, boxed, wine - easier to store. However, the choice was severely limited, after all this is Utah. A decision was made for a box of wine that I'm sure some wine connoisseurs up with which would turn their nose (Thanks, Winston!)

Castle Country is a land of color and contrast: from majestic snow capped peaks to desolate desert badlands, from native American rock art panels thousands of years old to dinosaur fossils over 100 million years old, from sinuous canyon gorges winding a thousand feet below you to awe inspiring buttes and mesas towering thousands of feet above you.

Castle Country has it all!

Well, everything but crowds, traffic jams, IMAX theaters...Heck, the Emery County portion of Castle Country is bigger than Delaware and Rhode Island combined, and still has not one single traffic light.

As evening fell, I was allowed to actually grill something for a change - YES!!!!! It was most enjoyable as I sipped on the wine, marveled at the haze left from the thorms on the Wasatch across the lake and had a most enjoyable time grilling pork chops.

The weather for tomorrow sounds good. At the museum, I picked up a detailed map of the Swell with many, up until now, hidden landmarks - like dinosaur tracks for example. Spent a few minutes and now have a nifty route planned for the morrow. This is more like it!

Took my evening walk after dark and there was lightning off in the distance most directions. It was so far away there was no thunder, but the light show was impressive. So am now back in the coach, once again butchering the King's English, as the TV is blaring away some remarkably stupid show. Perhaps another glass of wine will help.............

Surprise !! 8 AM and it's cold and raining like the devil. This would be tolerable if there'd be some lightning and thunder, but NO! - just a cold rain. Last night I put the canvas cover over the Jeep, just in case, but didn't put the full top up. With this moderate rain, some will get inside so went out - even before coffee - and took the cover off and put the top up. Now the cover comes off and the top goes up easily when the weather is nice and it's not needed. When the weather is crappy, and one is soaked from a couple gallons of pooled water from the top of the cover getting dumped down the front of one's self, the Jeep's top becomes somewhat contrary. In other words, I was soaked, cold, half asleep, and the top was a pain in the ass to put up! On the other hand, this is still better than work!

The Swell will not be swell today - nor tomorrow. It'll take a a few days for the clay to dry enough to drive safely. Not being one to give in to the weather, plan B calls for moving along 30 miles south of here where I'm sure the weather will be much better. Perhaps this might be a good day to do wash again.

And it was. Parked at Castle Dale and did the wash. Next headed to the new Museum of the San Rafael. Wow! For a town of 1,500, this was an incredible museum. Very enjoyable - and many dinosuar exhibits from quarries within 15-20 miles of here.

Al's foot print - and my foot.

After that, drove the caravan 15 miles south to Millsite State Park near Ferron. And yes, the sun came out about 3 PM. Awesome.

Ah - now this is camping. The west side of the Wasatch was trees and full of autumn colors. The east side has magnificent bluffs that soar 2,000 feet high and few trees. Gee, it's a desert! But it's good, though!

Millsite is 4 miles off the main drag so no friggin' coal trucks every 30 seconds (and that's not an exaggeration.)

"Bobcat Bob" (my name for him) was the ranger on duty. He and I had a nice chat about bobcats and how they come down out of the hills to prey on the easy pickin's in the valley. Bobcat Bob has lost at least 5 dogs, dozens of ducks and who knows what else to the cats. He had stories of coming within 15 feet of them. Too bad there's none here now!

Couldn't resist a late afternoon ride up into the mountains. The road was good, someone was even pulling a camping trailer up the incline, shown in the center of the photo. However, the trip was not meant to be and we sadly returned back to camp.

But all was not lost. I struck out walking and found this sight not far from the "bus."

So cooked some of Randy's hamburger on the grill (yes!) and polished off the box of wine I'd been working on for quite a few days. I can now move on to the outstanding box of wine I bought at DABC yesterday. Gee, I can hardly wait.

There are a few native Americans here in the camp selling beads (no, I'm not kidding.) They also seem to have an affinity for fermented beverages. Might be an interesting night.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day. Tonight it's this blog and a little of the Godfather saga - very little I hope.

You've probably already guessed by now all is not well, in fact pretty shitty! Got to the top of a long incline and pulled into one of most impressive scenic overlooks on the entire trip. Stopped the engine for lunch at this gorgeous spot, all apparently normal. When I went to start the engine to leave, it would not turn over. The starter would engage and would try to turn the engine over but nothing, zip, nada. The engine appeared to be frozen. Makes it hard to move. At last we were off the road and level.

Now for some data to put this in perspective: the engine is a Cummins mechanical, 8.3 Liter, a big honkin' 6 cylinder diesel. The nearest Cummins dealer is probably 200 miles away. We're at about 9,000 feet with a 10-12% grade on both sides, but at least we're stalled out level and on asphalt. The motorhome, trailer and Jeep put us at about 38,000 lbs. The motorhome has air brakes - this means we need 100-150 psi of air to release the brakes or we don't move (standard fail-safe mode for air brakes, courtesy of Mr. Westinghouse.) The weather for the next few days is supposed to be good. The only bad things about being stalled here is that this is a very popular 10 minute stopover for a gazillion tourists. Now, page two.

After the initial bout of panic, started the long process of diagnostics. Pulled the valve cover (just because that was the easiest) to make sure there wasn't a bent or broken rod. All seemed fine. Then inserted a barring gear, a device use to manually turn the crank. It rotated every so slightly before stopping. This was good news meaning I may not have seized a piston or broke the crank although there was no noise to indicate that would have been the case.

Next level of diagnostics was to pull the gear plate cover on the front of the engine (which fortunately faces to the rear of the motorhome and is easily accessible.) This was the first of many, many PITAs. Spent the next 3 hours pulling the gear plate cover off the engine, no menial task. It took a big hammer and appropriate language to move the other crap out of the way just to get to the plate, held on with 37 bolts. This is a busy overlook and there was always a peanut gallery watching and offering "helpful" suggestions which added to the frustration. The final part to be removed before the cover is the 40 lb harmonic balancer hanging on the end of the crank protruding through the gear cover. After using a grinding tool to fabricate a harmonic balancer puller out of a steering wheel puller, the last of the crap was finally removed and out of the way. The cover finally came off and the trouble became apparent.

The 4" gear at the lower right is for the externally mounted air compressor and hydraulic pump - which is driven off the rear of the air compressor. It looks like the air compressor went to hell and the gear mashed into the aluminum housing. What good timing that we had stopped! Had this occurred at full throttle, it could have broken the hell out of the aluminum housing which would have been even more of a major problem. Or it could have exploded and damaged the engine. As it is, tomorrow morning I'll pull off the compressor (I hope), and drive into Torrey and make some phone calls since Sprint sucks where we're at - AGAIN! But I've said that before. Should I be so fortunate to find a compressor, I'll then drive the Jeep the 200 miles (one way) to SLC to pick up a replacement. Shit happens.

The good news is that is a very pretty, albeit busy, scenic overlook. This is the view out the window of the motor home that won't.

BTW, one may ask why not have it towed? First, where? Nothing close, I mean nothing! Second, these are some really steep hills. It's not obvious they'd have much luck. Third, I suspect SLC is the only place I can get parts. If the damn think doesn't come apart tomorrow, will then entertain another plan.

Tomorrow shall be yet another story. Sigh!

Few photos today. It would be wise on your part to skip this section - pretty boring.

"Da hydraulic pump connected to da air compressor, da air compressor connected to da camshaft, da camshaft connected to da crankshaft, etc." and "da leg bone connected to da hip bone" or whatever! So this AM had to pull off the hydraulic pump (which powers the radiator fan and the power steering.) This was not an easy task as it's on the ass end of the air compressor: 6 cuts, 5 bruises (more data.) Some of the bolts are in such awful places that after contorting just to get one's hands in there, one can only turn the bolt a sixth of a turn at a time. At that rate it takes a long time to remove. Once the pump was removed, I was able to ensure it was not the pump that froze up. Whew. This means it's the air compressor. Now that I know what the problem might be, I can call for a replacement compressor. To do this, I need to drive 15 miles and 3,000 feet lower to Torrey, to get analog roaming. Sprint sucks. After 8 or 10 calls, finally found one in SLC. Also found a Cummins dealer, Doyle's Diesel in Nephi, who was willing to send a runner to SLC to get the parts. This means I need only drive the Jeep 300 miles (round trip) to get the parts instead of 450.

It will take 4 hours or more for Doyle to get the parts from SLC so this means I can drive back up the hill with the Jeep and pull the compressor. ARG! What a PITA. This was a most difficult task that took 4-5 hours. Air lines, oil lines and even coolant lines for the compressor head. Most of these were friggin' difficult to get to. My hands look like they went through WWIII. Now another problem presented itself. I needed a few metric and open end wrenches. Damn, I have metric sockets but few open ends. AHA! Necessity is the mother of invention. Take an ANSI wrench that's close, fire up the generator, plug in the portable grinder and grind the open end enough to make it "metric." Power tools are great!

4 PM. Got the errant compressor out. This was not an easy task as the gear and shaft had severely bent and it would not come out through the intended opening. Another long story, but finally got it out without destroying anything (at least too badly!) NOW, I can make the 3 hour drive to Nephi in the Jeep to pick up the compressor and 20-30 other parts needed for re-assembly.

The drive there was great. Top down, warm, no jacket. To bad I didn't have the digital camera. Beautiful green valleys. Immense mountains on both sides with brilliant yellows and golds. Interesting sights. For example, a deer and elk crossing sign with a road kill elk in the midst of the road 100' from the sign. Or the sign for highway cleanup sponsored by the "Utah atheists." I chucked at that oxymoron.

"May I digress?" "Yes, of course you may, it's your damn web page, don'tcha know!" "Thank you, I will!"

Tales of the peanut gallery:

Well, I'm sufficiently relaxed. 12:15 AM and several wines later (for medicinal purposes only), my typing has degraded. I'm unable to type more than 2 words without a grievous error. Time to go. Goodbye!