I felt like the old wood carving looks. The trip started out with 3 "crises" within the first 200 miles. At one point I was ready to turn around and come back. However, after a stop in Tama, IA, and a Maid-Rite, life settled somewhat. Didn't take much!
Rambled through Ames and settled in at a delightful county campground, Don Williams (whoever the hell he was) near Ogden. Drove down to the Des Moines River for a relaxing evening drive.
This good-size county park was a real surprise as there were numerous wood carvings all over the place. And besides that, we got the last site with electricity. Kewl!
Someone was creative. I'm surprised people leave the carvings alone.
The sunflowers were also a favorite. There must have been 50 - 75
carvings throughout the park.
After a little creative Jeepin', we finally found the Chinese steam
engine 1/2 mile out of town. Apparently they are not allowed to fire
it up in town, or even run it in town. They use the diesel to move
it in to the station. Damn the man! They're having a little problem
with their generator - perhaps cursing it in Chinese would help.
Engineer John let me climb on board and poke around a little (so to speak.) These folks really enjoyed their work and love to talk. Could have stayed there all day, but alas, had to move on.
Lots of stuff.
The fire was just started. Will take about 3 hours to get up a head
of steam.
The big deal is that this is the last (or perhaps almost the last) steam engine built by Datong in China and certainly one of the last steam engines built in the world. How true, how sad: The end of an era.
My
Job |
So next we're on to the Kate Shelly High Bridge outside of Boone. The photo says it all.
No, this is not the Kate Shelly High bridge. This is the 3 ton limit auto bridge on the way.
This is the Kate Shelly bridge.
Awesome. A few years ago there was a windstorm that blew a number of
railroad cars off the bridge. I guess that was a helluva mess!
Iowa is great - they even have Burma Shave signs. We drove into the ditch for photos of each of the five signs but when pasting them together for this page, they looked like crap so decided to just add the text.
To put today in perspective, one of the highlights was
trying to turn "the caravan" around to get a photo of this
nicely restored Lincoln Highway bridge. It turns out, I made an incredibly
simple task incredibly complex by blocking both lanes of US 30 while
I removed my head from my ass.
Oh yeah, the infamous 100th meridian was also a high point.
| There
you go..... - reprinted from "Nebraska, Off the Beaten Path", by Hannah McNally The 100th meridian runs smack dab through the middle of Cozad, NE. It's not a line you'd see on a map but it's a significant line nonetheless. This is the line of demarcation where East officially meets the arid West. You won't notice the difference in the landscape immediately, especially if you're speeding across Nebraska on the interstate. But you can bet this line is as serious as a heart attack to people who make their living from the land; the East gets in excess of 25 inches of rain per year while the West expects much less than half of that. You won't notice the decided change in attitudes if you don't get out of the car and talk to people. And there's a real difference in how people on the other side of the 100th meridian view themselves. People west of the 100th meridian are honest-to-goodness Westerners, and they'll tell you so. Check out the newspapers rack as you head west across the state; you'll see the Denver Post with increasing frequency, but not the Lincoln nor Omaha papers. The first time someone in the state called me an Easterner, I couldn't figure out what he meant because he knew I lived in Lincoln and I'm hardly an Easterner. New Yorkers are Easterners. But, duh, there you go, that darn 100th meridian. |
So on to North Platte for dinner with Henry Hill, the mobster from "Goodfellas." I saw in a magazine he was out of witness protection and a chef at a restaurant in North Platte. Neglecting to bring the blurb along, we stopped at a visitor center and asked where this restaurant was. The sly snicker the person gave when we asked the question should have been a major clue. We got to the restaurant and between the crappy service, the incorrect and horrible food, and dirty building, I'm thinking the mob missed a golden opportunity! Henry - you should have stayed with the mafia!
Then to add insult to injury, we headed to the Union Pacific Bailey Yard, the largest railroad classification yard in the world. That was also a bummer as their visitor area was falling apart and so far away from anything going on you might as well have been driving on an overpass over the yard instead. Oh well. Westward Ho!
Surfing at home, there appeared to be a few small town festivals and events on Highway 30. Of the 5 or 6, we only encountered one yet in operation - a tractor pull. It looks like by Sunday afternoon they had all rolled up the sidewalks and gone home. Another small bummer.
So to provide solace and comfort, it was deemed a stop at the main Cabella's, in Sydney, would be in order. Said stop was arranged but after a few minutes in the store, it was obvious there was nothing on sale. In fact, prices seemed to be usually high. Another slight disappointment. Westward Ho!
After a short drive, came upon Oliver Lee State Park, on a very small reservoir formed by Lodgepole Creek (allegedly the longest creek in the US.) OK. No electricity so run the genset for a couple hours to cool off. Do a little web work. Cook a great steak. Then, head off into the sunset. Got a couple of photos that capture this part of the country. Tomorrow it's the Snowies.
The Union Pacific.
A lone oil well pumping away way out in the middle of Nowhere, NE, on an evening's drive. The solitude, beauty, and peacefulness were incredibly delightful.
Bad news: Up at 5 AM MST. Good news: Great sunrise. Head 'em on out to Cheyenne. Stop at a Flying J for fuel, gas, LP, water and to dump. Had the same experience here as Jeff and I did at Albuquerque. As I'm at the pump, some brain dead RVer pulls up right in front of me. Well, duh! I'm not the one that's going to retreat. After a short conversation, we were able to exit, stage left. Hell with the Flying Js, the people who patronize them are too stupid. I'll go to Sinclair from now on and put up with the truckers instead. Never had a problem there.
Got a voice mail from George and Donna, some friends from back home who are out in the Tetons. We were going to try and meet up with them as we went out and they were returning but, alas, the timing is off so we'll see them when we get home.
On the way to Laramie, stopped at the highest point on I-90/US 30 and
saw Abe. He didn't appear to be happy. Also thought the quote for
US 30 was interesting. I guess there weren't as many important things
and life was simpler than.
From there motored on down the hill to Laramie and then to Centennial and the Snowies. Found an outstanding campsite in the mountains overlooking Brooklyn Lake at 10,500 feet. 3 miles of dirt road didn't help the looks of the motorhome on the outside, but who cares? This place is awesome. Only about 10 other people are here. The view out the front window is great!
Glacial lakes are all over the place up here. Came upon this one in a late afternoon drive.
In 1955 a commercial airliner mysteriously crashed into the Medicine Bow, the mountains above this photo.
Life
is interesting at 10,500'. Some observations. It takes a long time
to make coffee. One gets tired, very easily. The Jeep doesn't run terribly
well (of course, that's a given anywhere.) One gets sunburned quickly.
It gets cold at night (below freezing.) Diesel engines do not like
to start. Diesel engines blow lots of black smoke when they
finally are coaxed into starting and are unhappy about doing so. Bags
of popcorn explode. 3 beers are more than enough! But damn, is it nice
up here. Love it!
This was the first use of the "chimney" that I made for the diesel generator. Turns out, running the TV and PC for four hours at night along with lights and other electrical drain, sucks well over 140 amp-hours out of the batteries. This necessitates running the generator for a couple hours each day if there isn't commercial AC or the main engine isn't running. The little device pictured here, keeps the fumes well away from the inside of the coach. By the way, the clouds of black smoke are only present at high altitudes and last about a minute when first started until the engine warms up. Next year: solar cells!
So today was spent driving around trying to find some old ghost towns and mines. Located a few but they were pretty well gone. A book on the geology of the area was most entertaining. It also stated that periodically small amounts of gold nuggets might be found in Mullison Creek. The journey there was fun but, alas, I'll be unable to quit my day job. "All that glitters . . . . ."
Meandered back as the skies turned cloudy. Light overcast but doesn't look like rain (or snow!) Time to rest, read and consume 1/3 of my beer allowance for the day. Tomorrow Saratoga. Oh yeah, did I mention that beer has a helluva fizz at this altitude - empirically determined !!
From the front window.
The camp.
Centennial from Centennial Ridge
6 AM. It rained a little last night but the sun is rising and looks like a great day. Elected to drive back down to Centennial and find a couple of old gold mines, After a drive in a valley, we went to the top of a ridge and caught a view of Centennial and Medicine Bow. This was time well spent, to heck with Saratoga.
But all good things must end so returned to camp, packed up and motored on down from Brooklyn Lake heading towards Saratoga. Stopped and took a hike by a little stream.
Made the 44 miles to Saratoga and found a great place on Lake Saratoga - a city campground for $10/night with electricity! Went to the hot springs in town for a while but it was too damn hot. 15 minutes and I looked like a lobster. So what to do? Road trip!
Jeeped around on the back roads for a couple hours, only got hollered at once by a ranch hand, got back in time for grilled chicken, beer, and a sunset at the lake.
Now to digress (as if that's never happened before....) and to set the stage. In 35 years of traveling it never ceases to amaze me that there can be a wide open campground - no one else close in sight. You pull in. You set up. It's peaceful. It's quiet. It's tranquil. Maybe one or two other people are already there but they're at the other end. You park as far away from the maddening crowds as possible. After all, that's what curmudgeons do! Then a stranger pulls in and where do they park? Invariably right next to you! 300 open sites and they pull in to the site right beside you. Strange though it sounds, this is not at all an uncommon occurrence. Many times we've packed up and moved as a result.
So last night, took a short drive to watch the sunset. Coming back to the camp, it looked as if someone had pulled in right in front of us, nose to nose. "What the hell..." I muttered, as we approached, "Of all the spots, they pull in right in front of us. The nerve!" So I'm sputtering and fuming; mumbling about those assholes that had the nerve to park right in front of us. Grrrr!
Pull up a little closer and there are two people sitting in their lawn chairs laughing - it's George and Donna! What a great surprise. This was not planned and happened by pure chance. They were coming back from the Tetons and decided to go through Saratoga. They stopped for supper and someone recommended Lake Saratoga as a nice place to spend the night. As they pulled in, Donna commented that this is the kind of place Dave would pick to camp and wouldn't it be hilarious if Dave & Connie were there. No sooner did she say that, then they saw the motor home. What are the odds? So they parked in front of us, eagerly awaiting our return and to see my reaction. Their expectations were set appropriately. We laughed and laughed about that all night!
Then, to add insult to injury, George tried to call my cell to let us know they were there. After a few rings Donna said it wouldn't do much good as she could hear it ringing in the motorhome. I had neglected to take my Communicator.
We had a great time and stayed up until . . . 10:30! Wow!
And Medicine Bow from the same place.
Take a hike.
Damn RVers!
After a morning visit and a 2 hour breakfast, we parted ways. George and Donna headed back home the way we came and we headed the way they came from. After a monotonous drive through the Red Desert, we wound up at a KOA. Now I dislike KOAs - really dislike KOAs. They are over priced and pack people in like sardines. But, in the Rock Springs area, near the Pilot Butte drive, this was the only place to stay. So pack 'em in, charge $30 for a gravel site and call it home for the next 18 hours. Yuch! And scenic - you bet - overlooking a Conoco tank farm.
North of town, there's a 30 mile drive on a bluff that has one of the largest concentrations of wild horses out west. By mid afternoon we were on the drive - with some really dark clouds building in the far southwest. Undeterred, the trek continued until the road to Pilot Butte. Aha, this looks interesting! So up to the Butte until the slope was so steep that, even with lockers, there was a noticeable lack of forward momentum. According to the instruction manual, one can hike up a little higher and then there's a rickety steel ladder to go up another 20 feet and eventually get to the top of the Butte.
So why not? ARG! What a helluva hike a straight up. Here you can see the Jeep, the little dot kind of in the center, with the steel ladder in the foreground. Was the hike worth it? Hell no ! ! !
Poking through some of the literature, it seems there was an OHV sand dune area not too far from the beginning of the day's drive. On the other hand, given the name, I'm not sure much was missed: "The Killpecker Sand Dunes Open Play Area." No idea who named it, or why, but it certainly is a creative name. Maybe next year....
After the "exhilarating" hike up and down, got the hell out of there and continued on the drive on the bluffs over town. To the right is a view of the KOA "campground" next to the oil tanks. Next time Wal-Mart instead. It's cheaper ---- and nicer ! ! !
By now there was some spectacular lightning miles away to the west. No thunder - has to be a long ways away. But the road went westerly and I wasn't about to turn around. 15 minutes later we finally came upon a herd of wild horses, including some colts. Neat experience. The digital's photos came out crappy but got some good ones with the 35 mm and the big telephoto.
Still no thunder from the lightning - it can't be that close. So head down off the bluff to Green River and the 10 mile trip back. But just as we entered Green River, the storm started to move quickly and came in with a vengeance. Incredibly sharp lightning and high winds with horizontal rain made life with the top down a tad uncomfortable. Fortunately, we found a spot under the UPRR overpass and were able get the top up without even getting wet. The photo doesn't do justice. It was hard to see more than 500 feet or so. There are railroad trains, buildings, and mountains - all obscured by the heavy rain.
After the top was up, headed back - the same direction the storm was going. Got back to the motorhome just in time to have the storm revisit again. A twofer! Lots of rain. Some flooding. Lots of lighting. Really kool!
Later made a run to the liquor store in preparation for Utah.
So out to Flaming Gorge. TWC shows another series of storms coming in perhaps later today so will leave the top up tonight. I need to do a little PM on the Jeep (the shift linkage came off - oops) and a few little electrical problems. I'll also have a chance to upload this drivel. After Flaming Gorge, plans are for Dinosaur NM, then perhaps the Skyline Drive in the Wasatch so my best guess is chapter two won't be uploaded for a while. This is out west where the deer and the antelope play, but Sprint doesn't. Analog and digital roaming work very well for voice, but friggin' Sprint no longer allows me to use the cell phone as a modem - only as 3G - and of course that will only work when on their network. Damn the man!
Drove a whole 44 miles today and found a great camp, Buckboard. This is part of the National Forest system. It's close to the lake, sites are a long ways apart and they even have 50 amp service. KOA, eat your heart out! Bill, the campground host knew we were coming and had a site all picked out for us - one that was big enough to accommodate the motorhome and the Jeep that he knew we were bringing with. He even knew we wanted to be way the hell away from everyone else.
You see, while still in Green River I stopped at the NFS building and hit the mother lode of literature on scenic drives. The ranger there, an "older" guy (it's all relative, don'tcha know!) was exceedingly helpful - in a good way. I was concerned that the campsites at Buckboard might be full, considering this is the beginning of the weekend. He assured me there would be room. He tried to call the host down at Buckboard but he was out. So after chatting for 45 minutes about the area, what there was to do, etc., etc., etc., we finally headed the 44 miles to Buckboard. When we got there, Bill greeted us like long lost friends and said the other ranger had called him and told him we were coming and that we wanted a secluded site with electricity - and it needed to be large enough for the motorhome and the trailer. He had a great one all picked out and even a backup if we didn't like that one. Now that's communication!
Bill likes to talk. He gave an excellent dissertation on the geology of the area, what there was to do, etc., etc., etc. One of the many interesting facts: the lake rose 38 feet this year! It's now only 11 feet below normal pool. Hopefully next year it will be back to normal instead of the 50' down for the last few years.
Took off in the early afternoon for a 100 mile loop drive while the sun was out in full force. About 3, the clouds formed again and once more, a nice light show ensued. Nothing like yesterday, but still spectacular. So after this photo, put the top up and kept on a movin'.
I really wanted to do the Cedar Mountain drive but the Jeep would have been the highest point on the long, barren, very big hill, aka "mountain." During a lightning storm, the prospect of being a lightning rod wasn't at the top of my list of things to do on this vacation. So, common sense (which is not always common in my case) prevailed.
Got back about 6, ate and then took a short drive out to the badlands
area. While not a great photo, this tries to capture the wet rocks
and the rain in the background.
Here's the reward for driving around in the rain rather than sitting back at the camp watching TV. The red cliffs are on the other side of the lake. During the short evening drive, saw hundreds of jack rabbits crossing the primitive roads. They make difficult targets with the Jeep. A very nice drive, fun, and a good way to end the first week out.
