Eastward Ho! Day 6: Moab, UT ---> Grand Junction, CO

Today was a short day; I had to do some work and I had to get to a motel in time to do laundry, so I only did a couple of amazing things as opposed to the five million amazing things I've done every day so far.

I left Moab and took the Colorado River Road up past Fisher Towers, seen in every movie ever set in the west. I stopped and took some pictures but the parking lot was dirty-hippie infested so I didn't stay long. Today was overcast again, so the towers looked like the poked up into the clouds. Pretty dramatic.






Then on across the state line to Colorado National Monument outside Grand Junction; cloudy and rainy, which minimized visibility. Crappy gift shop, if you're keeping score. I can't figure out why the National Park Service gets t-shirts so consistently wrong.







Now the laundry's in. Motel breakdown so far: Motel 6es are the most consistent, though internet access is tricky and frequently not as advertised; one night I piggy-backed on a KOA wireless signal because the Motel 6 one was so weak. Travelodges are dirty. And the two indies I've been to were wildly different but both managed to smell like cheese.

Tonight, some small plates at some wine joint. Tomorrow: Black Canyon of the GUnnison National Park and then a loooong drive to Pueblo.

Eastward Ho! Day 5: Arches National Park

Okay FIRST OFF let me just say that I'm awfully fucking glad I've been hiking almost every weekend this year because if I hadn't you'd be reading this in a somewhat different form...like engraved into my headstone, perhaps. I purposely didn't over-research this stop because I wanted something to be a surprise. Well....leave it to me to be "surprised" that everything I decided to do was either "strenuous" or "moderately strenuous" and the only difference I can detect between those two levels is the numbers of "where's the motherfucking parking lot"s mumbled under my breath. In case you were wondering, eleven for the former, seven for the latter.

I started the day with some sort of potato-bacon-cheese-vomit-skillet-y concoction at the local "diner." No counter! Means no diner! In my book, anyway.



I had done enough research to know that I wanted to hike into the Fiery Furnace, but it's ranger-led only, so you have to reserve in advance, which I did. 4pm. For a 3-hour hike. I went ahead and went to the park at 9am. I did an easy mile all the way around the Windows Arches, then a half mile over to Double Arch. La la la, no big deal, and Double Arch is pretty amazing.





Then back in the car and over to Delicate Arch, which if you are wondering what it looks like, just look at the Utah state quarter. Or look at the pictures below. I decide since I had so much time to kill - LIKE SEVEN HOURS - I would do the hike to the base of Delicate Arch. Three miles round trip. STRENUOUS. And they aren't kidding. A good mile of it was over a big "slickrock" and oh, did I mention it was overcast and lightly rainy? WELL IT WAS. And that is why they call it slickrock IN CASE YOU WERE ABOUT TO ASK. Which you were. It was HARD. And then, wa-la, there it is all of a sudden, a total surprise and you actually laugh out loud because it was so worth the hike. Lots of people at first, but it thinned the hour I was up there, down to just ten or so. Lunchtime! Anyway, I did a quick sketch and took some pics and then slipped and slid all the way back to the parking lot. I took my time, so this whole journey was over two hours; close to three actually.





Then some little side trips to Broken Arch (1.4 miles) and then I drove to the ends of where I could drive and then headed back to the place for the Fiery Furnace meet-up. Twenty-five people. Germans, French, ten Japanese (one was wearing a wig!), two indeterminate-nationality couples (I am confused by Belgians), a fatehr-son from Utah and me. We had a terrific ranger though I think they should teach her to say "don't touch the poison ivy" in Japanese because every time the Japanese did touch it, she'd just yell in English, louder. SIR! IT'S POISON! ITCHY ITCHY! ANd they'd keep right on fondling it like they were selecting salad greens. ANYWAY. Into the Fiery Furnace we went. It's a maze of hundred-feet high fins and I got lost EVEN THOUGH I WAS WITH TWENTY-FOUR OTHER PEOPLE and had to yell "hey LADY!" and it echoed around I guess until I was supposed to die and they came back for me. After that I stuck with the wig-wearing Japanese lady. It is impossible for me to oversell this hike. It's specTACular. Also? MODERATELY STRENUOUS. Which is no less strenuous than STRENUOUS but if they called it STRENUOUS, no one would pay ten dollars to do it. That's like paying to go to jail. This shit was hard...but beautiful. At one point, I had to put my feet on one wall and my ass on another and shimmy fifty horizontal feet on my ass. OR FALL TO MY DEATH. Eh, maybe.




Anyway, we threaded our way from canyon to crevice, arches overhead, little pools of water at our feet. It was a slippery three miles. But I'd do it again. IN ABOUT FIVE YEARS.




I do want to be sure that you all know how terrific I think Arches National Park is. There's not a lot of folderol; it's trails and nature and that's it. No lodge, no restaurant...but an excellent gift shop. I made out with this, part of the set that I collect....but only if I've been there. I ended up having a ten-plus-mile day, six of which were hard. So yay me.

Eastward Ho! Day 4: Part 2 - Moab

No photos this time! Just observations.

Moab is the town nearest the entrances to Arches and Canyonlands. It is full of three kinds of things: hippies, Germans with funny pants, and people who take decorating with Kokopelli seriously. Ach, this Kokopelli. I used to work with this really hateful woman (Suzy and Chris, it's Kelly) who got a tattoo of Kokopelli on her ankle. When I saw it, I said SARCASTICALLY "hey, where'd you get that idea?" and she said "oooo DG, the image came to me in a dream. I got up and drew it; it's my own design." And I said, "really? Because I think you can buy a leather sofa embossed with that very same image from the Sundance catalog..." and then for months I tortured her by digging up other versions of her "original" design, all of them identical to the tiny smudge on her ankle. I even started calling her Koko for a little while but it didn't stick. I don't know who she was trying to fool. I mean, it was like me getting a cross tattooed on me and saying "I had this dream about a telephone pole...."


ANYWAY. Moab is full of those Kokopelli people. The same way Sedona, Arizona is, though it's maybe less New Age-y and more mountain bike-y. There are no fat people here, even though I know for a fact that you can get a stack of Kokopancakes.



Moab is also the home of Negro Bill Canyon, which I hiked a little bit of late this afternoon. Not much, just enough so I could say "Negro Bill" in conversation just to see what people do. NEGRO BILL NEGRO BILL NEGRO BILL. I HIKED it so I can SAY it.

Eastward Ho! Day 4: Part 1 - Canyonlands

I won't go on and on about Canyonlands National Park, though it was pretty amazing....except for the crappy gift shop. I mean! I'm a spender and even I left empty-handed. Again....a deserted National Park. Everybody write that down: Mondays and Tuesdays are the days to go. I suspect Canyonlands is the unpopular sister with little boobs in comparison to Arches National Park's busty prom queen, because the line to get in the latter was long when I drove by it later in the day.

I heard a ranger do a talk about geology - boring! - and then hiked two different hikes, Mesa Arch and Upheaval Dome. Not two miles between them, no big deal. Here are some pictures. I'm now using two cameras...the little Kodak to do the panoramas and the Sony to do the rest. The Sony takes much much better pics...but it's heavier and I don't like carting it around.






Tomorrow, I feel up the prom queen at Arches.

Eastward Ho! Day 3: Ely, NV ---> Green River, UT

Today was a loooong day so the post is going to be looong as well. If you don't like it, go read one of your favorite cats-are-cute blogs. YOU KNOW YOU HAVE ONE.

I got up bright and early in Ely and had breakfast in the casino. I have yet to have a meal not at a counter (rather than a table) and now that's one of my plans: to go the rest of the time without sitting at a table for a meal. Six-dollar steak and eggs to give me energy for the road. I was on my way to Great basin National Park but I took a side trip to Ward Ovens State Historical Park. The ovens made charcoal, which I thought just came out of the ground and got into bags and went to the grocery store. BUT NO! That is not the case. Back in ye olden tymes, they burned acres of piñon pine to get sixty bushels of charcoal and they did it in these beehive-shaped ovens. This was a really cool place, kind of spooky, and they had pictures of rattlesnakes everywhere - which I think they shouldn't do because then you look at the ground the whole time and don't see anything - and worth the hour-long detour. I art-ed up one of the shots for you because I can do that.





Then I headed sixty miles to Great Basin, our youngest National Park - at least that's what the book says. I would also argue that it's one of the ten least visited and that's really a shame. It's a gorgeous place, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, and there's no way to get to it easily...which I guess is why it's not very visited. I drove up Wheeler Peak and hiked the Alpine Lakes loop, an easy 2.5 mile hike, but my time constraint kept me from going further....I think I could have reached the summit if I had planned more time for this park visit. The lakes were really pretty and the water comes straight from a tiny snow field up on the peak. They call it a glacier because it moves stuff, but I thought that was really splitting hairs....but apparently it gets regulated differently if it's a glacier, so I'm sure my tax dollars are at work.




Then it was on to Utah, where they give you a wife just for crossing the state line! Utah kind of freaked me out right off the bat - it seemed designed to intimidate me...105 degrees! "No services next 185 miles"! TURN BACK NOW! And then there are salt flats for miles and miles, which just made me think if I had to walk ten feet on them, I would actually die from dehydration in five minutes.



I stopped in Salina for cherry pie. Another counter seat. A glass of milk. Not the best pie I've ever had, but it was good pie.




I was mad about having to hop on the interstate - I'm trying to stay off of them until Tulsa. But then! It turned out to be the most dramatic interstate in the world with all this crazy stuff to look at. They should put that on the Utah license plates: "Lots Of Crazy Stuff To Look At."




Tomorrow: Canyonlands.

Eastward Ho! Day 2: Fallon, NV ---> Ely, NV

This is going to be a long post because I did a lot. If you have a problem with that, here's the short version: eggs, sand, prehistoric doodles, deserts, mountains, a castle, a hamburger, Pier 1 Imports, Eureka!, a neon cowboy. If you want to read the in-betweens, read on...



Today was all about Highway 50 across Nevada, the "Loneliest Road in America." It's not a fake name I just made up: it's on all the signs. It's also true. I counted and in almost three-hundred miles (not counting the two towns Austin and Eureka), I saw nine other cars.



After eating a skillet full of wok-charred broccoli covered with fried eggs (don't ask), I left Fallon around seven and was at Grimes Point just east of Fallon in a few minutes. Grimes Point has a trail that loops around that features some petroglyphs that predate Christ (IF HE EVER EXISTED) by about 5000 years - so suck on that, Dead Sea Scrolls. It was a short half mile loop but really interesting. You do wonder what they all mean - no one's really sure but I think they were meant to remind themselves where the good hunting was. Like the loopy figure eight thing means jack-rabbit or something. Or maybe it means "here's where stupid Ungoohoo with the glasses got speared himself in the foot and died." I don't think it's really words. Anyway, did you know you aren't supposed to remove any of the rocks with petroglyphs on them from the site? WELL YOU'RE NOT. And even if you were, they're really heavy. I HEAR. But the light colored rocks with the honeycombings are pick-right-uppable. ALLEGEDLY.



Just thirty more miles got me to Sand Mountain, which is exactly what it sounds like. It's a HUGE - 600 feet tall! - sand dune mountain and at the base of it, there's like this camp of dirty-looking boys, all on ATVs trying to ride up the thing. I didn't see a single lady, but that just proves what I've always known: women are smart. Anyway, they were like a secret society, like that stupid Knightriders movie where Ed Harris led a Renaissance Faire motorcycle gang. They all looked at me funny, but maybe that's because I was prancing around in my plaid flip-flops taking pictures of a big pile of sand with Dolly Parton blaring out the open door of the Beetle.




Okay, so then just a mile or so away was Sand Springs, which was a Pony Express station back in the whenever. This one was under sand until 1978 or something, when it was discovered. So that was neat. I gotta say: the Pony Express looked really hard. The way I'm going had a lot of Pony Express stations and they were all so desolate and lonely-looking. I bet all those station masters drank like nobody's business. I started thinking how if somebody was smart, they'd buy one up and fix it up and turn it into a coffee bar called The Pony Espresso. Now that I've said that, you watch: I'll see one tomorrow.



Okay! So then a few miles later was the Shoe Tree, a tree full of shoes. I have no idea, but it's the exact sort of dumb stupid thing I slam on the brakes for, which is exactly what I did and then the cooler full of wine tipped over and a bunch of ice went all over the place so I hate the stupid Shoe Tree.



The next stop was Austin, whick is just a hair off being the geographical center of Nevada, but I can tell you this: it is in the exact geographical center of Nowhere. It's a tiny old west town that hasn't been all fixed up like the ones in California; I didn't see a single scented candle or jar of apple butter for sale. I did see a hamburger, however, at the International Hotel and Cafe.



I also visited Stokes Castle, a faux medieval tower built in the late 1800s for some dumb reason or another. Look it up; I can't remember. It looked out over the amazing Reese River Valley, though, so I was all for it. When I got out of the car, I couldn't figure out why it smelled like Pier 1. Then it hit me: piñon pine. Remember when they used to sell piñon pine incense? Anyway, that's what it smelled like. I was looking around for a papa-san chair as well.





I also went to the Gridley Store, mentioned (scroll down to Chapter XLV) in Mark Twain's Roughing It. It's a complicated tale, so you can read the pertinent chapter here, except for Chicago Meg, who hates Mark Twain for some reason. Frankly, I think that's like hating air or Emma Thompson, but okay whatever. Anyway, it's an interesting sidebar, the chapter from Roughing It. I still don't get why anyone would buy a sack of flour that had already been sold.



Just a few miles past that was another set of petroglyphs at Hickison Summit. Still interesting, though I got a definite snake vibe from this trail, so I didn't dilly-dally. Because if I see a snake, I will abandon my mother's car immediately and fly home.



Then, a quick drive through Eureka. I didn't stop.



But I did see twin dirt devils, which was pretty groovy.



And now I am in Ely, on the eastern side of the state - you should check back because I think Ely has a happening nightlife...I mean, there is a neon prospector on the side of the hotel I'm staying in and so far, they've called me twice to see if I'd like my free margarita yet. The middle of Nevada is crazy extreme but also really beautiful. It might contain not only the loneliest road in America, but also the loveliest. I'd come back in a heartbeat.

Eastward Ho! Day 1: Lodi, CA ---> Fallon, NV

Okay, let's get things rolling with the right kind of start. I needed breakfast!:



I'll leave it to you to guess whether I stopped or not. Okay, so Day 1 featured about fifty different kinds of landscapes, and since I drove lass than 250 miles, that's saying something. I left Lodi at 7 and made my way out of the San Joaquin valley up into the Sierra foothills to Placerville. Now I have mentioned Placerville before, when I made a Hangtown Fry at my house last year. When Mom and I went to Placerville ("Hangtown") a few years ago, we were foiled in our search for one. But not this time! I ended up at Chuck's ("American and Chinese Food! Serving Hangtown Fry since 1964!" -- mmm hmmm, FIVE STAR CRAZY), which was a vintage diner without a trace of irony. I have almost a chemical allergy to fake nostalgia, so I was very excited when I walked in and it was all original and clean clean. I ordered the Hangtown Fry and hash browns and ten minutes later, voila, I was eating it. Criminally good, but I would have said that even if it had turned out awful because I've been thinking about having it for so many years. I chatted with Gwen the waitress (SHE STARETED IT so SHUT. UP.) a bit and then I drove away, my belly full of eggs, bacon and oysters.





An hour later, I crested Echo Pass and holy moly, there was Lake Tahoe in all it's obscene beauty. Saturday at Lake Tahoe was a bit of a mistake; there were fifty million people there. I hiked a little bit at Emerald Bay, but there really were just too many people for me to enjoy it, so I scenic drove more than I had planned. Then back around the south end of the lake and up the east side, where I stopped at Logan Shoals and had Deep Thoughts while I stared at the lake. Let me just say: the Sierras do not suck in the scenic department.



Then like ten feet later...the crazy-looking Nevada side of the Sierras. It looks like the moon! If I had come across America in 1840 in a freaking covered wagon, I would have started sobbing immediately upon setting eyes on the Sierras and turned around and wagon wheeled it back to Boston, or wherever the hell I was from. That side was seriously foreboding looking. Oh and within twenty minutes of driving, the temperature went from 78 to 105. And now I am in Fallon, where it looks like a dust storm is moving through. They don't put that on the brochure, you know. But now I am fixated on getting a tumbleweed. I can just put it in the corner of the living room, next to all those dust bunnies. Anyway, here's a picture of a threatening thundercloud, Nevada-style.