On Sunday,
September 27, 2015 we left home at 10am. On route to Hwy 62, and Klamath Falls,
we stopped at the Table Rock Shell station to fill the tank. Anne had
downloaded the audio book Mars, and we listened to the story as we casually
motored over the pass to Klamath Falls. We skirted the city and continued over
the open dry lands towards Dairy. We pulled into the large parking lot of Rice
Feed & Supply at Dairy and ate lunch. It was quarter to one when we pulled
in. Our next stop will be at Juniper Reservoir RV Park, a few miles to the west
of Lakeview.
Lakeview is
nicknamed The Tallest Town in Oregon. The county seat of Lake County, Lakeview
was established in 1889. Its 2,300
occupants spend their days at 4,800 feet working in the timber industry, or in
agriculture. Although in close proximity to Goose Lake, the Lakeview region is
high desert arid. The annual rainfall is less than 16”.
Sites form
a ring around a large, well-kept lawn which sported a permanent volleyball net.
Other amenities included: covered picnic area, laundry, restrooms, and showers.
For visual ambiance, and shade, each site was bordered by stately Aspen trees.
This is a
very special day. Tonight at 7:51 pm, we will witness the full harvest blood moon.
The moon will rise on the east, in a fully eclipsed state. As it continues its
ascent, it will slowly shed Earth’s shadow and present a full harvest moon. The
blood moon description comes from the fact the moons illumination, as seen
through the atmosphere at a very low, acute angle has been filtered of all but
reddish hues.
Our next
door neighbors are from southern California. They are retired and have been
touring the northwest. He had created a company which built Baha race engines.
His favorite core engine was the VW. She, like Anne, is an avid quilter. As they
travel, she Googles stops in towns that have quilt stores. It seemed like a page
from our own travel book.
We had finished our dinner and
today’s crossword puzzle by 9pm. I stepped outside to check on the moon. It had
risen considerably, but it was still ¼ covered by our shadow. Wow. It has been
over two hours, and the Earth still hasn’t released its cloak.
The drive from Lakeview to
Winnemucca had some wonderfully scenic stretches. It also had long miles of
straight, stark nothingness. We crossed a few passes along the way. From many
miles away we could see the etching the highway made as it snaked its way to
the top of the next mountain range. If one dared to look, the view into the
proceeding valley was breath taking. Looking, however, wasn’t something I
wanted to do with the un-guard railed, narrow shoulders of the road. This was a 30 mph grade, and I was happy with that. Highway 140 ended when it T-boned into
US 95 a few miles south of the Oregon/Nevada border. Hwy 140 had begun in White
City, just a few miles north of our house.
We were guided by an attendant
riding in a golf cart. He led us to site #121 at the Winnemucca KOA RV Park.
This KOA is easy to get to from Hwy 95, and it is on the road to access I-80E
when we leave in the morning. We had the rig all set up for the evening by 4
o’clock.
We are, after all, now in Nevada.
That means that Anne will be looking for some entertaining slot machines. This
happened a little past 6 pm. I was interested in doing some reading, so I begged
off joining her. No worries, Anne will have a good time.
It was 4 o’clock, and I had a tinny
in hand. We were parked in site #5 at
Wild Horse Crossing Campground. The drive north from Elko, on I-80, had been 72
miles. We drove through mountainous northern Nevada terrain. Wind had funneled
down the canyons.
As we had passed through Elko, we
stopped at Walmart and stocked up on groceries. We then refueled and headed
north on NV 225. Several miles out of Elko we received a phone call from Dave.
He and Joy were calling from Walmart – go figure.
It was after nine this evening
before Dave and Joy arrived back at Wild Horse. They had with them Duncan and
Lanie. Duncan, and his wife, Lila, direct activities at the Malheur Reserve and
Wildlife Sanctuary, a few miles south of Burns, OR. Lanie had been a longtime
worker at Malheur, but now holds a position in Corvallis. She had joined Duncan
for this expedition. Lila opted to stay to manage a slow period at the reserve.
They had ridden to Elko in Lanie’s Subaru. Anne and I joined them in their
Monaco for a few minutes, and then retired for the night.
Early Wednesday morning we had a
knock at the door. Duncan announced that breakfast was ready. Blueberry waffles
and eggs was the fare. What a yummy way to begin the day.
The fresh water pump on the Monaco
had been acting up and Dave was in the process of removing it for a closer
inspection. There was only room for one pair of shoulders in the service bay,
so I watched. Dave’s endeavor was set aside as the four of them prepared to
drive to an outback settlement for a day of touristy activity. Anne and I were
happy to stay in the camp.
It was around five o’clock when I
received a text message from Dave. He advised me they were just leaving Idaho
Falls. They would arrive home by nine. We had earlier retrieved Cleo, a very
frisky Pepion dog, from their coach. The three of us watched a bit of TV in our
bus.
Dave called at eleven and said they
were just pulling into Elko. They were having motor trouble with the Subaru. He
called again, at midnight, and said they had lost all of the oil. They were
going to tow the car to the repair shop. They will stay the night at a motel in
Elko. We will have to wait until the morning to find out what’s up, and what
our role might be in the solution.
The next morning Joy called and
said the engine was ruined. They will get a rental and they should all be back
in camp by five.
At noon, I turned on the TV to
catch some news. A lone shooter had just shot and killed several students, and
wounded more, at Umpqua Community College, near Roseburg. It seems this wasn’t
a very good day for a lot of people.
Lanie and Duncan made arrangements
to have the Subaru trailered to Burns. There it would be repaired by a shop
which Duncan had personal faith in. The quote for a rebuilt replacement motor
from the shop in Elko was over $6,000, plus labor. Dave had received quotes
from rebuilders for around $1,800, plus shipping. The Burns shop had presented
such a quote.
Lanie needed to report for work in
Corvallis on Monday. After Saturday’s breakfast we said our goodbyes to Lanie
and Duncan. They returned to Burns in the rental car. All arrangements to get
the Subaru back to Burns had been made.
Dave and Joy travel with a Polaris
RZR, all-wheel vehicle in the bed of their Ford Ranger pickup. The Ford is
their towed car. Late morning, Dave motored to our site in the RZR. He had
brought with him a Honda generator. He carries two small generators and he
figured we could use one of them to keep our cabin batteries charged. The small
Honda is quieter and more efficient than our on-board Onan diesel unit. The
Honda will also be enough to run Anne’s sewing machine, or other small
appliances.
We set up the Honda and briefed
Anne on its use. Dave then took me for a ride in the RZR. We crossed the
highway to a small dirt road that climbed through the eastern hills of the Owahee
canyon. I was quickly impressed with how smoothly the Polaris’ fully
articulated suspension traveled over the unimproved trail.
We soon came to a gate we needed to
pass. I took care of opening and closing the gate. Dave told me that most of
the northern part of Nevada is owned by a few ranchers. What they didn’t own
was reservation property of the Shoshone tribe. The gate marked the boundary of
one of the ranches. Beyond here was open grazing.
Oh, oh! I had been afraid this
would happen. Dave told me that I was going to drive the rest of the way. When
I asked to where, he said until we decide to turn around. We ended up at the
top of a craggy peak which stood prominently on the western edge of the next
valley. We could view for several miles over the barren expanse of this piece
of Nevada. Across the valley was a green trace of color etched around the
weather worn slopes. This was a creek, which would provide life sustaining
water for the unseen fauna that make this canyon their home.
We rode around rocky, washed out gulches,
and across marshy patches protected by small groves of Aspen trees. At this
time of the year the Aspens were yellowing. Their ever-quaking, ovoid leaves
occasionally shook loose and were beginning to blanket the ground. In spots,
the trail had completely washed away. We found ourselves nosing down, at
awkward angles to gain traction enough to climb out to the flat once again.
The RZR comes with a high speed,
low speed transmission. It also has reverse, neutral and park. The axles can be
shifted on the go between two wheel and four wheel drive. The single cylinder,
4-stroke, 570cc RZR also comes equipped with a very positive, power steering
system. The only short coming, for me, is that the throttle pedal is very
stiff. But, I suppose it can be a good thing, in that going faster requires
active foot focus in order to achieve the extra speed. Perhaps the nicest
feature of the RZR is that it uses engine braking. Only once, while on the
track, did I actually use the brake pedal.
“Do you wanta watch some football?”
This evening the Boise State Broncos host a game against Hawaii’s Rainbow
Warriors. The satellite remote doesn’t receive ESPN. Dave planned that he and I
would drive to Mountain City after dinner and watch the game at the bar &
grill. Tonight we were having BBQ chicken, and I have been designated the cook.
Joy prepared a salad and a side dish. We supped in the comfort of their Monaco
coach.
The time of the game was uncertain.
Did it start at 7 pm Pacific Time, or Mountain Time? Just in case, we left early
for the eight mile drive to Mountain City. Mountain City had, at one time, been
an active mining town within the Shoshone reservation. Today, it has a few
homes, a post office, and the bar & grill.
The Boise State field is blue.
Tonight the Bronco’s uniforms were gray and blue. The Rainbow Warriors wore
white. At times, the Broncos blended so well into the background they almost
disappeared on the field. We left when the score became 55 to 0, in favor of
Boise State. The outcome had become clear.
A team is either hosting a game, or
they are on the road. Hawaii has a pretty rough schedule. This year, the team,
with all of its support staff and gear, will fly over 40,000 miles to meet
their away game obligations. I wonder which airline was awarded this year’s
flight contract.
Dave and Joy left for church
service at 9 am. I read for a while, and Anne cutout fabric for a new quilt.
Cleo, the dog, was left in the Monaco. Anne took a break at 11 am, and again at
2 pm to fetch Cleo and give her walks. Dave had left the key to the RZR. This
afternoon I took Anne for a ride into the mountains. We both had a good time.
Dave and Joy are “employed” by the
Forest Service to be the camp hosts at Wild Horse Canyon Campground. In
addition to duties at Wild Horse, they are also responsible for checking on the
needs of a nearby, more remote campground. When church services were through,
they drove to the other campground to inspect its condition.
Each Sunday, the church
congregation holds a potluck luncheon, which Dave and Joy regularly take part
in. They left the church after 1 pm and returned to Wild Horse in their white
Forest Service pickup at 4:30 pm. They were just in time for dinner.
Anne had retrieved the BBQ chicken
leftovers from Joy’s refrigerator. Anne made chicken fajitas. They turned out
fantastic, plus, we finished off the chicken; two meals for the price of one.
Joy was feeling a little wonky this
evening. She was coming down with a upset stomach. I likely was the vector for
her ills. I was just reviving from the same problem. I had captured it from
Chris and Jennifer’s boys at the house. Despite her discomfort, Joy was up to a
game of pinochle. It would be the guys vs the gals. Play stopped at 8 o’clock.
The girls were ahead, but it wasn’t over yet.
Monday’s dinner was stroganoff.
Anne prepared the meal from leftover steaks we had barbequed a couple of
evenings earlier. For desert, Anne had made an apple crisp. The meal was
terrific. Following dinner we played a few hands of cards. Joy and Anne both
caved with the cards and retired early. Dave and I watched a bit of TV, and
sipped second glasses of Merlot.
It was 6 am when I woke up to a very
cold home. All dc electrical functions had shut down. The bedroom’s propane
furnace had, sometime during the night, consumed the last of the battery’s
reserve, while propelling gentle, warming air into our bedroom.
There was a plan. Donning a jacket,
I went outside to see if there was, maybe, a few minutes life left in the
Honda’s fuel tank – no luck. With the aid of my flashlight, I quietly made my
way to Dave and Joy’s campsite to fetch his red, plastic gas can. If I made too
much noise, I was sure to arouse Cleo, and she would start barking.
The gas can was not where it had
been yesterday. As I was leaving their site, I glanced into the bed of the
serviced pickup. I saw the can. When I hefted it, I noted that it was full of
air. I returned empty handed.
That whole effort was to avoid
turning on the RV diesel generator. Doing so would surely wake up the
neighbors-the heck with it. The cabin temperature was in the low 50s. The
diesel generator starts by drawing juice from the house batteries. The house
batteries were dead. The alternator of the coach engine provides house battery
recharging. I started the engine. This allowed me to fire up the generator. In
about 30 seconds appliances which run on ac power begin to lite up. On this chilly
morning, however, the ac hardware remained asleep. The RV’s power transfer
switch wasn’t switching. I ran the coach engine for a while. This gave the
batteries some new life.
It has always amazed me that
semi-trucks could pull into a rest stop and spend a whole lunch time with the
engine still running. Yes, if the truck had just been climbing hills, then the
motor needed to run for a bit in order to cool down the turbines. That didn’t
require the entire lunch time. The Cummins diesel engine on our Freightliner
chassis had a wonderful cooling system. The temperature gauge never exceeded
200F. I had been running the engine at idle for over an hour. The batteries
were now charged enough for basic things to work again. The decision was made
that I should drive to Owahee, 25 miles to the north, to refill the 5 gallon gas
can. I returned an hour later with some Honda soda. Up and running now, I’ll
check out the transfer switch malfunction after lunch.
The last afternoon a camper had
stopped next to our site and asked if I had an air compressor. The pickup he
drove was towing a 20 foot camper, and behind it, he was towing a car trailer
with an ATV on board. The camper’s tires were low, as were those of the
trailer. I kept a 50’ air hose coiled on the top of the Onan generator. I
started the main engine to build up air pressure, and then I uncoiled the air
hose. A few minutes later, the man thanked me and drove away fully pumped up.
While I was providing compressed
air, I had inadvertently hit the generator’s on/off switch for charging. There
had been no juice flowing to the transfer switch. I reset the switch, and now
all is well. Lesson learned.
In two days, Friday, we will
caravan to Moab, UT to spend a couple of weeks in the high desert. Dave had
borrowed several large items from the Forest Service District office when he
and Joy accepted the hosting position. He had towed in a horse trailer. That he
used to store the RZR and other bulky campsite supply items. He also brought in
a 300 gallon fresh water tank mounted on a trailer. The water was used to
replenish their RV fresh water tank. Shovels, buckets and all of the smaller
hardware had to be packed up and returned to the District office. Dave used the
service’s pickup to tow the trailer back this morning. Anne and Joy drove away
at about the same time as Dave. They were going to Elko to shop and do laundry.
I was left in charge of caring for Cleo, and preparing the pot roast in the
Dutch oven over the fire pit.
My first task this morning was to
scrounge wood from empty camp sites. Enough wood was needed to keep heat under
the Dutch oven for a few hours. The fire was lit at 11 o’clock. The roast was
on in half an hour. For the next few hours, I stayed close to the pit. I added
wood to the bed and I added water to the pots mixture. The onion rings I put in
at the beginning were looking pretty gnarly. At 2:30 pm I removed the oven from
the coals and set it aside to cool.
While the roast had cooked, I had
needed to add a second can of bullion, a pint of Merlot, and almost half a
gallon of water to keep things from burning to the pot. Moisture just seemed to
disappear. When I removed it, and deemed it done, things were looking pretty
dark. The meat, however, felt very soft, and giving to the poke of my fork.
The meal tonight tasted very good,
albeit a bit carbon based. The meat was tender, and the potatoes and carrots
were done. Everything on the plate glistened with a black hue.
Thursday was a day of organizing
the repacking of the Monaco. After a summer of living, much of what had been in
the underneath bays had been removed and used. Each container was numbered, and
the contents noted. I carried containers to the coach and kept note of where it
was stored. It was a hard working afternoon.
We plan to leave the campground at
9:30 am tomorrow. A stop needs to be made in Elko, and then again at Wells to
return the service pickup and the 300 gallon water buffalo. Wells, NV is where
we will spend our next night.
We left Chinatown Casino, Café
& RV Park at 9:30 am. On the way out of Wells, we stopped at the Flying J.
Both of us topped up with fuel. I also filled the propane tank. We had loosely
decided that we would stop for the night somewhere close to, but west of Salt
Lake City. Our destination is Moab, but we are going to do the drive in two
days. On the way to Salt Lake City, we stopped at the Bonneville Rest Area. The
stop was mid-way across the infamous salt flats. This I-80 rest stop featured a
two-story lookout which offered a great overlook of the expanse of the flats.
Joy located an RV park in Tooele,
UT. We were parked at the Vorwaller Homestead & RV Park by 3 pm. This is
Saturday and Boise State is playing Colorado at 4 o’clock, MST. Dave and Boise
State are an item, so his number one priority was to help me setup the
satellite antenna, and to find the broadcast channel. We had tickets to watch the
game on the CBS Sports channel. The Broncos showed the Rams no mercy. It had
been a good game. Anne prepared a chicken Caesar salad dish for dinner. We ate,
and called it quits for the day.
Our route took us south, and east,
around Utah Lake. We picked up a few miles of I-15 at Santaquin. Near Spanish
Fork, we leaped off of the freeway and followed Hwy 6, south towards Price. The
landscape changed significantly while crossing the Manti-LA Sal Mountains. We
started to see roughly cut cliffs and jagged peaks. Dave pulled into a vacant
looking motel lot, just south of Price. The National 9 Inn of Wellington
featured a dozen pull-through parking sites. Each site had power, water and
sewer hook-ups. The lot was void of foliage, but it did have a large river
houseboat perched on cross thatched stacks of lumber, at the eastern edge of
the grounds. Dave and Joy were return customers at The National 9. They had
spent a period in 2012 visiting with the grand kids. The girls had a good time
playing with Cleo in the small, grassed picnic area. We will be here for two
nights.
Tonight, dinner was served at the
Cowboy Outhouse. The restaurant was a convenient spot, a mile back towards
Price. Of the menu choices, our table selected lamb, salads, and a burger. The
servings were enormous, and the meats were ok. The Cowboy Outhouse was
comfortable, and there were lots of paintings of western scenes. Tomorrow, Joy
has promised meatloaf. I’m looking forward to that dinnertime.
We drove over forty miles into Nine
Mile Canyon. The canyon is a natural conduit through the Book Cliffs between
the Price River drainage and the Uintah Basin. The road through the canyon
links Hwy 6, near Wellington, to Myton, on Hwy 40, to the north some 70 miles.
Over the centuries, many people
have traveled through, and have inhabited the canyon stretches. Some were Native
American, including the Fremont, and the Ute. The US 9th Cavalry
built the road that was used by the settlers and the freighters, who hauled
goods from Price to the Uintah Basin. Each passing group left traces in nine
mile Canyon. The remnants include: rock art, historic inscriptions, telegraph
poles, and homesteads.
The rock of the cliffs was formed
from lake sediment some 55 million years ago. When the area uplifted, Nine Mile
Creek began cutting out the canyon. The resulting sandstone and shale left flat
surfaces rising above the canyon floor. Over time, exposure to the sun and to
the elements created a darkened varnish on the surfaces of the massive vertical
faces of stone. Prehistoric artists discovered that when the surfaces were
pecked at, the varnish layer dropped away. This left a high contrast image on
the lighter colored, underlying stone.
Predominant trees along the creek
include cottonwood, poplar, and willows. At higher elevations, pinion-juniper
gives way to aspens, mountain brush, along with firs, spruce and pines.
Sagebrush, grass, rabbit bush, greasewood, cactus and others compose the
under-story vegetation.
We are still in Utah, and in Utah geology is king. One of
the rock features found above the road side is Balanced Rock. A massive stone
sits atop a cliff outcropping. At the base of the rock, the cliff presents the
weathered likeness of a ram’s head, which supports the stone. Driving around
the canyon lands of Utah, I was continuously reminded of how vulnerable the
highways were with the overhanging threat of when the next piece of the cliff
was going to break loose. Balanced Rock was an imminent threat to passing
motorists.
Nine miles north of Moab, on Hwy
192, is Willow Springs Road. The road is two cars wide and paved with 2” of
talcum fine, red-brown dust. Willow Springs was at one time the road into the
Arches monuments. Today, it is a dusty road on BLM land crossing Willow Flats.
A few hundred yards beyond Hwy 191, the BLM has carved half dozen, large
parking bays for camping, or RV use. Several miles before Willow Springs Road,
we pulled over and un-hooked the towed vehicles. Joy and Anne drove ahead and
reported, via walkie-talkie, regarding the availability of an empty RV pad. Dave
and I were given two thumbs up. We discovered the ladies had picked out a very
large, flat pad which would easily park the two of us, and four or five more,
if desired. This would be perfect.
We had a great view of the buttes
which bordered the Arches. Our closest neighbors were a good 100 yards away.
Today’s temperature was in the high 70s, and the sky was clear. We parked
side-by-side, ran out the awnings, and lay down the carpet, for tables and
chairs. Tonight was going to be aired the first Democrat debate of the 2016
Presidential Race. I set out the satellite antenna and tuned the Directv
receiver for tonight’s viewing.
The sun rose slowly, casting long
shadows behind the pinions and sage defining the desert floor. The bluffs to
the west showed off their colors, each representing vast eons of patience while
nature completed her pallet. Iron oxides at the bottom, a few feet of teal
above the red, followed by yards of brown covered with alluvial carnage from the
majestic walls of basalt that created a crowning ring on the bluffs flat tops.
Coffee cup was in hand when I
stepped from the coach to begin m bow practice. I brought along my packaged,
foam archery target. A berm at the rear edge of our site will make a perfect
stopper for the occasional arrow that doesn’t go where I thought I had directed
it. My quiver has six wood arrows. After around five quivers full of shooting,
ends in archery talk, I was ready for some trick-or-treat.
Anne wanted to watch the carnage,
and I called her outside when I went for a coffee refill. The pumpkin sat on
top of my target. Shooting from 25 yards, I placed the first few arrows in the
target. Putting the arrows closer to the top, the last of the round went
through the carved out mouth. Three more ends were hurled at the orange orb.
Eventually, the pumpkin’s chin collapsed. I called it quits for the day. I
travel with a couple of bows, arrows and the target. Unless we camp in the
outback, I get rare opportunity to do any target practice. This site is a
perfect practice location.
After breakfast, we loaded into the
Honda and drove a mile towards Moab, to the newly opened dinosaur museum,
called Moab Giants. We bought tickets that would cover all sights the museum
had to offer.
The earth is approximately 5
billion years old. Far after its formation, single cell organisms formed in the
seas. These morphed into more complex forms, including, eventually, plants. The
plants gradually replaced the toxic atmosphere above land and sea with oxygen.
Animals began to emerge from the waters. Specie diversity exploded. But, during
the Mesozoic era, beginning about 500 million years ago, dinosaurs ruled the
land masses.
The Mesozoic Era was made up of
three periods: the Triassic, Jurassic, and the Cretaceous; the oldest to the
most recent. The Jurassic period ended some 60 million years ago. The museum is
a walking park which takes one on a guided path that begins in the early
Triassic period. Along the path, every 50 yards, or so, is an info-board
describing the discovery and characteristics of the life-size dinosaur staring
in a menacing manner at you from the bush and rock a few yards away.
As you walk through the ages, the
form, capabilities and sizes of the dinosaurs evolve. Specialties sorted the
animals apart, not necessarily their size. Some dinosaurs were meat eating
hunters, and some were happy to graze, or gnaw on trees. The smallest adult
animals were weighing in at a few hundred pounds. While the largest dinosaurs
tipped the scales at over 10 tons.
This part of Utah is famous, of
course, for its magnificent geological structures. The greater Moab area,
however, is also blessed with having a very large quantity of dinosaur
footprints. Many of the species displayed on the museum’s outdoor path were
once home in Moab, as well as at other parts of the world. At the end of our
trek, we enjoyed a break in the cafeteria. We had servings of soft ice cream.
We all had the same opinion of our dinosaur adventure today. This commercialized
history lesson was an 8-thumb up trip.
This morning Anne and Joy loaded
the Honda CRV with baskets of foul smelling clothes. They drove off in search of a
laundromat. A stop at the grocers, as well as the pharmacy, was also on their
list.
I enjoyed bringing a total ruin to
Mr. Pumpkin. With a face nearly as sad as his, I finally set the pumpkin aside.
It would later be put in the rubbish bin. I shot several more ends at my
target. I don’t know why, but I find it very satisfying to hear the arrows thump
into the target, placed one after another near the spot I had been aiming. A
few occasionally even hit the actual dot.
As the morning aged, the desert sun
grew to be uncomfortable. Our two coaches are parked side-by-side. The Monaco
is on the northeast side. This position affords Dave and Joy a cooler climate
later in the day. A note to self: choose that position next time.
Dave’s job this morning is to
remove the air cleaner from the RZR and to re-grease its seal. Drats. In the
process, he let the hose clamp drop. It landed on top of the protective belly
pan. Now his work became looking through the many chests of storage to come up
with his 18” long, grabber tool. Dave is a very methodical man. With patience,
he talked to himself and discussed where he might look next. Occasionally, a
strain associated grunt would be expelled as he knelt, hefting another chest
from a storage bay. Aha! The shiny sliver of a tool was finally found. It was
in the container holding all of the electrical supplies. A level of well-being
refilled the air.
While Dave had been on his grabber
quest, I had knapped my way through two chunks of obsidian, and I had turned them
into resemblances of arrowheads. Dave examined one and he thought it would be
fun to scatter them on the ground for the kids to find. Yes, it could be a
Thanksgiving Day arrowhead hunt. I should have been a pilgrim.
We had both received a bit of
exercise this morning, and we had enjoyed job completion satisfaction. It was 1
o’clock, time for the news, and a break for lunch. My sandwich and cookies were
good. This was despite their consumption while ingesting America’s, and the
world’s social and political maladies, as reported on the TV. Interesting, I
find that I have watched so much of the same shenanigans, and strife, that I no
longer dwell on it once the TV set has been turned off. However, I feel I may
miss some extraordinary event in our history, if I don’t take the time to watch
the program again tomorrow. Something is wrong here, somehow.
The ladies came back a bit after
five. They were loaded down with bags of groceries, and chests filled with
sweet smelling fabrics. What a pleasant transition. Joy had purchased two,
thick tenderloin steaks for our dinner. When I was designated the Barbie
watcher, I was also instructed to make sure at least one of the steaks turned
out to be cooked medium-rare. Luckily, I had just the right gadget to make sure
the center of each cut measured 145F, when it was removed. All I needed was a pair of AAA batteries. Joy
happened to have some extras.
With the meat probe loaded, Dave
and I lit the briquettes in the pre-heater container. I delivered the meat to
the kitchen within the half hour. Accolades were given to the chef. The meat
was cooked just right, and it was tender, and juicy. Phew!
Highway 128 runs alongside the
Colorado River for several miles. It then courses into the hills and passes a
community called Castle Valley. This town is about 15 miles east of Moab.
Castle Valley isn’t a town, but perhaps, a settlement. We saw no stores. There
was, however, a fire station. Each year, at the end of harvest, Castle Valley
hosts a gourd festival. The one-day event begins with a parade, and ends with a
potluck luncheon at the fire station. Gourd artists from around the region
display their wares on tables nested beneath awning tents.
The parade featured costumed
villagers, tractors, fire engines and EMS vehicles, and one Model A hot rod.
Candy was tossed from the vehicles, and sirens were sounded. It was a fun,
small village event which united a community spirit.
From Castle Valley, which was named
from the shapes of the surrounding bluffs, we drover to Bull Canyon Overlook. A
windy, broken pavement road climbed up to 8,500 feet to a paved pullout. The
overlook is a short hike from the parking bay, over exposed stone slabs which,
at one time, were perhaps made from the dark and muddy surface of marsh land. The
overlook gives one an uninhibited view of the Colorado Canyon lands, from a vantage
point of several thousand feet. Dave and I crept carefully to the edge of the
boulder outcroppings to capture photographs of the magnificent sight.
The overlook, with its breath
taking view isn’t, however, the reason Bull Canyon Overlook was developed. The
high altitude bluffs had been formed by an uplifting of the earth’s crust, many
millions of years ago. Long before this part of the crust heaved, dinosaurs
roamed the flora rich lowlands. Where they roamed, they left footprints. The
stone slabs which led us to the valley outlook contained many, well defined
dinosaur tracks. At a few places, the massive reptiles sank deeply into the
then soft surface. What kind of dinosaurs were they? This could be identified
by comparing the prints with those archived at the Moab Giants museum.
The road that brought us to Castle
Valley, and then to Bull Canyon Overlook, was a large circular loop from Hwy
191, north of Moab, and then returning to Hwy 191, south of Moab. We had begun
at the north and had wound our way down from the snow dusted peaks to the south
entrance of Moab. We had skipped lunch today, and it was past 3 o’clock. We
decided we would stop at Jay’s Pasta for our meal. Jay’s was jumping, on this
late Saturday afternoon. I enjoyed a mug of Moab Brewing ale, while others
appreciated water, or wine. We all appreciated the meal. Anne had chosen water
for her drink, so, she was selected as the designated driver for the nine mile,
dusk time return to our camp.
Sunday, we did our own things. Joy
prepared chicken enchiladas for dinner. The meal included a tossed green salad.
Dave and I did well tonight at pinochle. We were ahead by about 1,000 points
when Anne “shot the moon”. This seems to be her classic, come from behind
method to squash the opponents. When retiring for the night, Dave called us
outside to see the sheet lightening. The flashes were silhouetting the
northwestern peaks of the far desert. There were so many explosions from clouds
in the same region. It made me wonder why Nature didn’t just get it done the
first time, and discharge the clouds with one big show.
At 3 o’clock this morning, my side
window lit up. In my sleepy state I imagined that the Paparazzi had tracked me
down to our Willow Flats RV site. Within a few seconds, the coach shook from the
report. Now, wide awake, I realized that I wasn’t a famous celebrity, after
all. The flashes and crashes continued for many minutes. Rain began to belt
down on our fiberglass roof. The thunder, after each pulsing burst, cracked
loudly, and then slowly rumbled off to distant spaces. I scrambled from bed and
closed the roof vent hatches. Anne, of course, had also awakened, and she asked
what I was up to. I returned to bed, and for several minutes we listened to
Nature’s violent activity. This we did from under the cozy, warm blanket, and
within our protected surround.
La Sal Mountain Outfitters is the
archery shop in Moab. Every Tuesday evening they host a friendly target
shooting competition. Dave and I wanted to do some indoor shooting, so we ate
early, and drove to town. Anne and Joy wanted to come along to be our
cheerleaders. We were greeted by Kelly, the shop manager. He set us up with
targets and we got started. Dave and I were the only archers using longbows,
the other four shooters were armed with compound bows. We shot until we tired.
Indoor shooting at a large butt, mounted against the wall, Is a lot more
comfortable than trying to hit my 18”x 18” target butt. With that one, when you miss,
you get to watch the arrow skitter across the dirt and rock, before it comes to
rest near sagebrush.
Canadian vanilla ice cream, with
blackberry pie, who could ask for more. Anne’s pie was delicious. The dessert
set the four of us for one last round of pinochle. We are going to leave Willow
Flats in the morning. “Just to show there had been no hard feelings, Honey.” I
ended the game with a lay down shoot-the-moon hand. Tadah!
