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Published: April 29th 2006
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I suppose the journey began on the first of November, as that was the day we turned our house over to our renter, Rebecca, and her daughter Anuhea. I am pleased to have Rebecca renting the house, and she seemed very pleased to be able to rent it: a good situation all around. It turned out to be difficult to find someone to rent the house, and we only found Rebecca just ten days before we had hoped to leave. Moving out of your house was something I had blissfully forgotten about until the days before our impending departure, when we were launched into a pell-mell packing of everything in sight. Unlike the normal trip packing, you actually have to deal with every last thing in your house, down to the tiny items in the back corners. Somehow, we managed to get all the furniture into the ground level of the garage, and all our boxable personal items, as well as a few that weren't so boxable, into the garage/studio attic. So, perhaps we don't have too many belongings after all........ We ended up spending our first night camping in our van under the carport at our friend Anne-Helene's house while
we finished up last minute details (like where Aisha the cat was going to live), and made sure we had everything we needed in the van. Then, Lance left for Westport for a few more days of surfing while Amanda drove the van to Portland to R & R from packing and take care of all the other last minute details that didn't happen in Seattle.
Somehow, by the 5th of November we actually let go of preparing for the journey, and began it, heading south. It was lovely to have several family stops in Oregon for the first few days, visiting Amanda's sister & parents in Portland, her aunt in Albany, and another aunt and uncle, plus cousins in Eugene. We received advice about places of interest to visit, and wonderful home-cooked meals. Despite several other plans for the first months of our journey, the one we had finally settled on by November was to head to the Southwest—in search of warmer and drier weather. We left Eugene on a rainy Monday, and drove over Willamette pass, only to discover blowing snow on the other side. Our drive across Eastern Oregon was a bit sketchy, as we drifted between
snowstorms, fortunate enough not to encounter deep snow at any point. Suddenly, the seasons seemed to be changing fast (had it really been balmy in Seattle only a few days before?) Following a variety of back roads, we made it to Burns, Oregon the first night, finding a back street to park our van on. One of the biggest advantages to traveling with the van, is the ease of camping and cooking. Even when you are too tired to reach a campground, you can park on a city street, and everything is right there. We ate hot food and slept comfortably, very pleased despite a hairy drive. The next day we arose to beautiful cold sunshine, and continued south, passing through Malheur bird refuge, Frenchglen, and Winnemucca, Nevada (gambling available at every hotel and gas station). We spent the night near Battle Mountain, NV on lovely BLM land, and Lance chose our route for the next day, which followed, as the map called it, "the loneliest road." This 2-lane highway through north-central Nevada was beautiful. We counted seven mountain passes as we drove about 180 miles on this road, and while I'm not sure it was the loneliest road I
have ever seen, there were certainly few travelers. One of the not as wonderful features of the van is how slowly it climbs to higher elevation, or any hill for that matter. As you might imagine, with seven mountain passes, we were getting an up close view of this part of Nevada, chugging along at 35 miles an hour for each summit. By the end of the third day, we were at the eastern edge of Nevada, happily stealing wifi from the forest service office parking lot, and then camping on the northern edge of Great Basin National Park (neither of us had heard of it before), with a broken press pot as our only calamity (and no Seattle style espresso to be found either....). We were certainly taking our time getting to Utah, and had barely traveled on a freeway. Great Basin Park featured a lovely 13,000 foot peak, and the first limestone caves either of us had ever visited. We had a tour of the caves, which were filled with thousands of stalactites and stalagmites, everywhere from an inch to 10 feet long. Amazing formations I had only imagined previously, and they went on and on.
The next
day we finally reached Utah, coming in mid-state and skirting south of Salt Lake City. Our first true destination was Capitol Reef National Park. Utah is of course known for its red rock, of which Capitol Reef has copious quantities. During our nearly four days there, we hiked canyons with soaring walls of Wingate sandstone, scuttled along the tops of the reef, walking ramps of Navajo sandstone, gazed at quickly eroding Chinley red and grey rock, and explored pools carved by water into a variety of layers. Capitol Reef shows off a variety of Utah's geology, a wonderful introduction to this part of the country. There were very few people in the park, not surprising on the day of the thunder and hail storm (during which we drank cocoa in the parking lot), but less so on the gorgeous sunny days that followed. We camped in different places each night, exploring a variety of trails by day. This being the desert, the weather has fallen into a familiar pattern—warm and sunny by day (60-65 degrees), and cold and clear by night (down to the mid-20's for the first time last night). We are enjoying the pleasures of being able to
cook normal meals on our lovely 2 burner gas stove, (including an omelet and curry lentil soup for Amanda's birthday) and sleep under our down comforter at night. We head to the grocery store about every three or four days (we can't stock too much food due to lack of storage), and leave the fridge open at night since it's rather cold out anyway (we're not sure how to solve the fridge only working while the van is running problem during the warmer months). Leaving Capitol Reef we went just northeast, stopping at Goblin Valley Park, where blobs of Entrada sandstone look like goblins (or mushrooms, as some people say), and then to a slot-canyon hike. These slot canyons are one of Utah's most wonderful features—ever narrowing canyons which have been long-before carved from many layered sandstone by rushes and flows of water. You can see the many layers as you hike, both in the soaring rock walls on either side of you, as well as on a minute level, in the tiny marble like layers which the water has sliced. The walls heaved back and forth, allowing us to imagine the water in the varying rounded and pointy sections.
After some distance, we actually got to real water, and donned our sandals preparing to traipse further up the canyon. The narrowness of the path required us to actually step into the water, which seemed fun at first, but after some minutes, the fact that it was mid-November after all, caught up with us, and our feet were painfully numb. It was beautiful, and then we ran for it, back down the canyon to the safety of our shoes and socks. That night, we explored the towering columns of a giant mud castle formation by full moon light—eerie indeed.
And now, after a leisurely drive, we have reached Arches National Park, about 80 miles to the northeast of Goblin Valley. We arrived just in time to see Delicate Arch (the one on all the Utah license plates) in the afternoon sunlight. We are glad to be here, and still like each other, even though personal space is not a concept in a small van. As the nights get longer and colder, we are starting to dream of several hours in a coffee shop, and maybe even a hot shower (although we are mastering the bath from a camping pot and
a "sun shower" concept rather well).
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