Day VII

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Cait: Today was a day of contrasts. Our trip has, so far, allowed us to see and experience many of the dramatic differences in lifestyle all contained within our country. The ticking of the odometer however, has provided an ease of transition between these lifestyle segments, whether it be in mile-markers passed by on an interstate or mountains climbed in-between. Today however, was different. To wake up in the Mormon capitol of the world and retire to sleep 14 hours later in a glitzy hotel-casino is certainly something the mind struggles to understand….particularly when both of these lifestyles are ones that you personally avoid. Thankfully, for me, much of the afternoon in-between was spent in the beautiful outdoors, where, as those of you who know me, understand that I feel most comfortable.

After sleeping in (comparatively) to 10ish in the morning, Reece & I packed up the few items we managed to haul in the night before and took off on foot towards Temple square, a mere 2 blocks away. (Perhaps it was this proximity to all-things-holy that explains our lack of proximity to any bar-type atmosphere….though apparently we wouldn’t have made last-call the previous night anyway). We made an intended quick-stop and the Geneology Library where, after chatting with Sister Sarah who greeted us in the foyer, we were whisked away and plopped in front of two computers along with family-tree charts to aid us in our quest. The quick stop dissolved into a bit more, but being endowed with the flexibility and sense-of-curiosity that cross-country travelers must, I welcomed the diversion. . Each computer station was linked via internet to a large database of genealogical records. If anyone has ever attempted to search their genealogy online, these are much the same sites you might be navigated to via pop-up ads, such as ancestry.com, however thanks to the largest genealogical library in the world, one avoids all fees, memberships, sign-ups and sign-ins. While Reece was gun-hoeing and discovering his long-lost relatives (as well as the fact that he might actually be Austrian instead of Czech) I shuffled through various sites and databases…pulling up PDFs of original handwritten censuses, death certificates and marriage licenses from a century ago. The process was reminiscent of a treasure hunt…unfortunately my map basically sucked. The whole process did lead me, however, to 2 major discoveries; 1. I know almost nothing about my family history and 2. I really need to change #1 while it’s possible. So, new knowledge in hand & sense of magnitude & history in our hearts Reece & I made for Temple Square.

I was nervous about entering the square in my flouncy skirt and wifebeater….thinking that perhaps I should be a bit more covered up (when in Rome….), however the swarms of young, well groomed, Mormons present (perhaps on their mission) seemed happy to convert me regardless… The situation was odd, as I for one, and often happy to engage in small-talk (or any talk) with strangers, however I could not shake the feeling that I was being judged…not necessarily by the people present…but maybe by some greater force? God? Strange though, because even in times of crisis and emotional strain I am most comfortable with my level of spirituality. I think perhaps that it is the buildings which I find oppressive…I can recall a similar feeling last time I entered a Catholic Church (and I, for the record, am a confirmed Catholic). Take this situation, Reece & I entered a chapel/church/temple (not the acoustically-perfect tabernacle however, it was closed) & I felt compelled to remain in the rear while he snapped a few photos of the alter in front. I was approached by two nice Mormon girls in the back of a church, who asked me about my current life situation & I told them of my recent obtaining of my degree in Evolutionary Anthropology. Oops. Their demeanor & kindness towards me did not change however, a noteworthy trait that I continue to try to emulate… Still, I felt as if the building was weighing me down. Either way, western-friendliness (or Mormon-friendliness) certainly took on a new meaning within this city-oasis; by the time we left the square less than 45 minutes later, Reece and I had accumulated 4 square maps, 2 pamphlets & 1 Book of John. No wonder this is one of the fastest growing religions on earth. So inspired by the transpirations at Temple Square, Reece & I headed for a local SLC brewery, Red Rocks.

We dined on a delightful mix of upscale-casual (and REAL vegetarian food!) with some local brews that made us fondly recall our former place of employment back in New Jersey, the Harvest Moon Brewery & Café. A brief walk back towards the Wrangler (parked still at the City Creek Inn) revealed such curiosities as the largest garbage can we had ever seen & a delightfully phallic group of rocks. (See photo) Eager to be on the road again, we headed south on 80 towards Timpanogos Cave, a National Monument some 30 miles south. Since the infancy of planning the trip, I have read about various caves & caverns, mines & pits all along our route in, I think, every state we passed. Something about dank, dark holes interests me & seeing a cave was one of the things on my “to do list” for the journey. We arrived at Timpanogos, which was actually inside Unitas Forest around 3:30. We purchased tickets at $7./each and they assigned us to the 4:50 tour….I thought perhaps that the “layover” between ticket purchasing & tour startage was a bit extreme considering the trail to the cave was only 1 ½ miles… in reality however, the trail could have feasibly been only ¾ mile long, if it went straight up the mountain! The entire route was switchbacks (I wish we counted how many) climbing about 1500 vertical feet. (Did I mention it was about 92 degrees out?) Humbled again by thin air & Rocky Mountains, Reece & I reached the top a tad more than slightly winded, but exhilarated just the same. Upon our summit, we met up with 5 female park rangers, 3 of which made a point to comment on the speed with which we ascended. They were even more impressed to learn that not only were we from out-of-state, but we were “flat-landers” as well. I guess we were acclimated more than I thought. Either way, it was nice to have the positive reinforcement. We were made aware that in spite of our swift ascent, there was no tour before the 4:50 so we had some time to kill waiting for 4 more to ascend. Due to our isolation about ¾ up a mountain, on a 4’ wide path, outside a 500-foot deep cave, killing time meant hanging out with the rangers. This proved to be quite a jolly time however, and after Reece explained we were on our way to Yosemite where I was going to be a seasonal ranger, they were even more enthusiastic. I got to talk shop with them about various things ranging from “roving” to Vasque boots. (side note, ladies, the Vasque Breeze is the most comfortable boot you will ever own!) Talking with “the gals” made me feel very eager to get to Yosemite & meet my future colleagues…and also made me feel a bit a ease knowing that I will most likely ‘fit-in’ at the park.
Inside the cave was amazing…I wish I had a wealth of geological knowledge to spill right now but instead my layman’s perspective is as follows: Timpanogos is actually 3 smaller caverns which are connected by man-made tunnels from before it was designated a historic landmark. The first “room” is utterly beautiful but the Ranger BJ, our guide, assured us that the best was yet to come. Apparently, the first room we entered was the catalyst in preserving the others as, being the first publicly known, it bears the heavy mark of human traffic (including pencil signatures on the wall….some over 100 years old and still visible). The tour led through winding corridors into rooms, some small, others larger--some interconnected with passageways and some accessible only through the others … (reminds me of a New Brunswick apartment). My favorite “room” had a beautiful pool of water in which, through the gentle periodic ripple caused by a drip one could see the reflection of a few noble stalactites growing from the roof just above. Other notable items included mineral/rock formations in such shapes as salt & peppershakers, a basset hound and a heart (the latter being over 5 feet high and weighing over 2 tons!). There was also a HUGE “room” in which one could stand, look up, and still not see the ceiling in parts. By the time we reached the end of the tour, probably over an hour later, the dry, hot Utah air was in sharp contrasts to the 46-degree wetness we had become accustomed to. Then…we were off.
The drive out of the forest was of course, beautiful, as was the drive through a sculpted suburbia just outside. We reached the highway planning our destination for Great Basin N.P. en route to Ely, Nevada…a seemingly nondescript desert town with many available tent-pitching accommodations. Reece was making some phone calls and I, sans navigator headed north instead of west. Whoops! Following his current phone call with a rather nasty woman in Ely, we concluded that, because this woman obviously was representing of the entire Ely population, we ought to continue northward instead and cross Utah west of Salt Lake City on route 80. F**k Vernal, and F**K Ely. Are we a bit harsh? Perhaps….but in the midst of a loosely planned trip, our decisions & destinations are, in reality, based on a syndication of such tiny-little feelings or experiences.
As it were before, and would be again, the last-minute, error-based change in plans proved to be fruitful. We found ourselves driving past the great salt lake at sunset— the mountains behind changing color and rising out of the hazey air like something in a !!!!! painting. We exited at a marina to gain a closer look while in my mind I entertained thoughts of stripping down to my underwear and bounding in, only to be forced into a float on it’s salinious surface. Au contraire. My fanciful notions were quashed by Reece’s knowledge of & previous experience with the lake. Apparently, it is not like the Dead Sea in which one floats regardless…he pointed out to me that, don’t I know how to float in the ocean? (me: oh yea…) Is is basically the same in the salt lake… you can still go underwater and so on and so forth… bummer. As we pulled up to the “beach” however, my disappointment faded. Now, I consider myself a “rustic” individual….rather low maintinence, however the multi-sensory experience that followed quickly relieved me of all desire to float (or sink) in the great salt lake.

We pulled off the interstate at a marina to get a closer look at the the beauty, hopped out of the car and onto the gravel parking lot. Beside the car I noticed a slighty-worn pair of sandals and remarked to Reece that I wondered why someone might leave such a cute pair of shoes behind….they must have been drunk or something. Little did I realize that after my own stroll on the beach, were it not for the spare gallon of water in the car, I would have left my own flip flops behind. The “beach” was really a partially-crustified, partially- muddified pit of sand-dirt. We had to walk/hop and a quick, even pace to avoid sinking into the gunk. Visions passed through my mind of the various techniques one can employ to save themselves from quicksand. Luckily, once we got closer to the water the whole mess thickened up and we were able to walk normally….well, sort of if you consider taking extra care to avoid the dead, crusty fish & birds strewn about the beach normal. Still, the beauty of the setting sun over the water, siloutting a man & his dog on the shore overpowered the nastiness. We snapped a few photos and left.

Back on the road, I assumed we had triumphed the gross-intimacies the lake was hiding. False assumptions for Cait: 2. For the next 50 miles or so the drive was quite a trip. We had to forgo our ususal windows-opened style of driving due to the presistant stench around us that was something of a combination between a wharf and rotting road-kill. Nasty! If this wasn’t bad enough, our windshield was constantly plummeled with a srteam of various insects as if we were driving through some type of swarm. Some were so huge & positively juicy it was like hitting a small bird. I’m sure we went through ½ gallon of washer fluid. Along either side of our 2 lanes were equally wide strips of land....sometimes muddy-salt like the beach before, sometimes water. Most of the time the exact consistency of these strips was impossible to identify, but, with the fading light, it appeared as if I was driving on a road floating in nothingness. (Think the Rainbow Road on MarioKart) As we drove into the dark, the periodic presence of 18-wheelers kept us company, and, of course our bug friends as well.
With about 50 miles to go to the border of Nevada we, yes, WE could be the next BIG winners at such and such casino just like Mary Jane (pictured on billboard). The signs were a constant presence for the remainer of the drive boasting a free breakfast or roll of quarters for truckers, in-room spas, 57 tables, etc. etc. (It WAS in fact, trucker appreciation month) I would have welcomed a sign to the extent of , “Caitlin, here comes your nice quiet bed” but I suppose that was just not in the cards tonight. (no pun intended) The rangers back in Timpanogos informed us that when in the middle of Utah, for fun, one goes to Nevada to gamble. So, it must not come to surprise the reader to learn that we booked a (amazingly cheap) room at the Montego Bay Casino & Hotel in West Windover. Imagine, if you will, my shock and…well….repulsion as we arrived, being that I, though born & raised in New Jersey had never been to a casino…not even in Atlantic City. In fact, I don’t know that I have even been to a town that HAD casinos. So, hopping out of the car in a parking lot so bright I thought it was daytime, and walking into a huge hall with so many holligrams, mirrored and refletive surfaces and spinning lights, irritable & tired, Reece & I had some words with each other. In the end, though, we had a fun night, mine of which consisted of a brief experience with a penny-slot (dumb) and video-poker (complimented with a few beers thanks to Juan the bartender) at the bar. Reece joined me most of the time except for a brief excursion to the black-jack table…one may assume to their liking the implications of the word brief, but at least I came out 75 cents richer!
It was easy to fall asleep after all the activity in our lavishly furnished room complete with a Nintendo and fake palm tree.

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