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Published: September 4th 2008
August 30, 2008. Estes Park, CO
We’ve put 1116 miles under the wheels in two days, and it’s not easy to make a tour of I-80 across the plains - without much of a stop - interesting. But one serendipitous “symmetry” did come to me as we turned onto I-55 from LSD and I realized that this, the first part of our journey, was along the route of the old Illinois and Michigan canal. And that just two months ago, we had ridden our tandem across New York State on what remains of the old Erie Canal. These two canals and their middle section, the Chicago River, made Chicago into the “golden funnel” of the mid-1800s that collected the riches of the prairies and shipped them, by water, as far as New York City and New Orleans. That in turn made Chicago into the economic powerhouse of that century. All of which makes the narrative that I tell tourees on the CAF river cruise all the more alive to me!
We’ve read newspapers aloud (what is McCain doing with that woman as his VP choice - does he think female voters are so stupid as to vote for someone
only the basis of gender??) and have made it through a Walter Mosely book on tape (Cinnamon Kiss).
Stunningly clear, sunny weather has been our companion. On a walk through a restored prairie area in Iowa, grasshoppers exploded with clicking sounds from under our feet. The Big Bluestem waving over our heads was a beautiful deep purple. I like the giant cornfield that is Iowa, including the deep green sharply edged fields of soybeans. A few memorable sights included a sign for a place: “Rain and Hail” (?), a cab with graphics of a martini glass and handcuffs (“Call Yellow Cab”), and a line of huge, motionless wind turbines - no wind that day, I guess. Today in Nebraska the SW wind was strong; the rest stop where we had lunch had built the picnic tables behind partial brick walls both south and west to block it. Though it seems an ideal area for wind farms, we only saw a few turbines, way in the distance, once.
Today, finally off of I-80 on the way to Rocky Mt. Natl Park in CO, we blasted past Granny’s Gluten Free Zone and the Knives and Forks store, drove through stunning
canyons along the Big Thompson River, past an Adopt a Highway sign: Estes Park Freethinkers, and landed at a motel for two nights in Estes Park. We spent awhile with all the other tourists in the center of town, as kitschy as so many other places in this country (Bar Harbor comes to mind) with its fudge and taffy shops, t-shirt emporiums and mountains of just plain junk. But oh, the setting! And the air smelled of wood smoke, even though it was still very much summer weather. It’s good to be back in the mountains again. We sat on a bench in front of our motel room and watched the sun set behind some breathtaking clouds over the mountains.
Sept. 1: Labor Day; Duchesne, UT
We’re here in this godforsaken town-of-one-motel thanks to false advertising. It was my idea to bypass Vernal, a great big “Main Street” west of hours worth of high desert and mountain driving, for this place. The printing of the town name on the map was the same size for both cities! As it turns out, Vernal would have been infinitely better. Including the fact that the entire highway/Main St. was lined with
huge planters and hanging baskets overflowing with flowers - all the same color and arrangement. Obviously some big city botanical planning went on over the winter… They were impressive and did a lot to soften the industrial/commercial nature of that place.
PS: Re DuChesne: The following interesting info from a waitress miles down the road where we had breakfast (nothing open in town when we left, early). It’s pronounced Dushane. The one motel in town usually has no rooms - why? Because the oil industry in eastern Utah is booming and there are thousands of workers populating the area. That explains the totally uncharming attitude of the motel owner, and the many slightly or overtly threatening signs in her office (No XX; No XX; Mgt retains the right to …. Etc.). There’s nuthin’ in that burg!
Back to Colorado: Our day and a half in Rocky Mountain Natl Park was just enough to fit in a couple of great hikes. I was leery at first given that we had no time to acclimate to the altitude. Our first hike to Loch Vale was about 7 miles round trip and we set off early, before 8:00. That was good
because we enjoyed brilliant sun and warmth until the very end of the hike at noon, when clouds began to spit on us. As we hiked back, I was amazed to see the hordes of people just beginning to hike up, many of them with kids. As we drove away, we congratulated ourselves on getting such an early start. I imagined a solid line of hikers behind us stumbling all over each other to reach the parking lot in the rain.
After a nap and good night of sleep, we were ready this morning for hikes at the top of the park. I hiked 4 miles down about 1000 feet, from an altitude of almost 12,000 feet. My four layers of clothes were just enough to counteract a strong 25 mph wind and the COLD. But it was a beautiful and, after mile One, easy hike, at first traversing an area of tundra with huge vistas over the Never Summer Range, and later affording a close acquaintance with areas of trees, small streams, and alpine meadows with tiny purple and yellow asters and the last gasp of small yellow sunflowers. Lo and behold, Robb appeared to meet me! The
ranger had discouraged him from his hike, a short, steep climb up high. Clouds were rolling in. So we had a very companionable hike together and Robb reported seeing two bull elk, earlier, in a meadow.
A brief mention: It is so terribly sad to see the devastation in the park from the pine bark beetle! Huge swathes of trees are rusty brown, dead or dying. In some places, only dead soldiers - no needles left - stand sentinel. What will the next generation inherit? Global warming will only speed the process. Apparently, forests in the west of Canada are devastated, and judging by what we saw in this park, the U.S. is not far behind. Woe!
At noon we began our drive around the rest of the park, at Granby picking up Highway 40, which will eventually take us all the way back to I-80 east of Salt Lake City. Saw this sign at a local gas station: “Regular: Arm; Premium: Leg.” Also passed a one-room shed with a Statue of Liberty on the peak of the roof, and a large American flag painted on the front.
We drove through a weather front and the rain
brought cool temperatures. The terrain was dry and rocky, with buttes and mesas in the distance and the foreground low and dotted with sagebrush. Near Vernal UT (doesn’t “vernal” have something to do with spring?) we saw a few startlingly bright green irrigated fields, and some sheep in addition to cattle.
(An aside) Finding anything that once grew from the ground on the road is almost impossible. Two of my meals featured fish/meat resembling hockey pucks. Tonight was the worst. At the only café in this place, we ate white food: tuna, potato salad, chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes with gelatinous white gravy, cauliflower (!) and a couple of pieces of broccoli the texture of baby food - PLEASE!! But it’s not worth the time to look for good stuff. We’re weary at the end of the day, or in the case of tourist-laden Estes Park, virtually brain dead after wandering around amongst all the schlock.
Tomorrow we head on through Salt Lake City and Nevada. We must must must find a library to do email. Our Comfort Inn in Estes Park supposedly had a wireless network but we couldn’t tap into it, and it is MORE
than frustrating to not get email and also not be able to write this blog!
Sept. 2, Sparks, NV
647 miles today, across most of Utah and virtually all of Nevada - whew. The time changed in our favor, and we took advantage of it to put pedal to the metal. We finally, finally and at last found a public library and sped through our emails. But got no chance to upload to our blog.
We listened to an annoying “N Is For Noose” by Sue Grafton, including a maddeningly prissy reader. Why? Well, just to pass the time as the high desert and arresting mountain ranges whizzed by. Much of our day was spent climbing up and over rough and rocky mountain ranges, at one point as high as 8,000 feet. The day was clear. Sometimes the landscape appeared slightly pink. Mostly, today was an in your face reminder of the huge open spaces in this country that man has still not been able to make habitable.
The dry, white salt flats in western Utah are hauntingly desolate. Yet Robb saw lots of “desert graffiti” there: “LOVE” spelled out in stones; “HI” in 40 oz.
Beer bottles, others not intelligible. Much of today in both states we were treated to sights of freight trains at some distance from the road, sometimes looking like toys in the vast landscape. For the first time ever, we’ve used cruise control and it’s been great to tear along at a steady pace of 75-80 mph with so little concern about passing other traffic - because there isn’t any and most of it is going that fast too! It helps to stave off “right foot paralysis” and makes it possible for the driver to look around a bit more than usual. Safely, of course!
We found a Mexican restaurant for dinner, sat outside and enjoyed balmy weather and a really fun conversation with our very friendly, very efficient waitress (sorry, “server”) when she announced she was going home to read a story to her 6-year-old daughter. This kicked off a fun exchange beginning with a discussion of science fiction with Robb (I hate sci fi - too creepy!). She should go to college! She was not only very interested in lots of things but quite articulate. We all three agreed that she needs to get back into college, but for now, she said she’s going to become an ultrasound tech so she can make more money. Too bad - I wonder if she’ll ever be free enough to get a degree. Robb wondered aloud about the other 1 billion children in the world who will (probably) never have even 1/1000th as much of a chance to fulfill their potential as this 20-something girl.
Sept. 3, Piedmont, CA (think Oakland)
We have covered an astounding 2,462 miles since last Friday morning - 279 of them today.
If I could only bottle this day! Robb chose California Hwy 4 over the Sierras toward Stockton as our route as an alternative to a same-old-same-old I-80 trajectory, and what a payoff! After traveling past Reno, we diverted to Route 365 on the eastern edge of the Sierras and eventually reached Hwy 4 which took us up, up and away to the very top of the mountains. This was a wonderful road - only two lane, so narrow in parts that it lost a center line, twisty-windy-up and downy, in places virtually ungraded so that an uphill afforded absolutely no view of oncoming traffic until the very summit. We negotiated hairpin turns so very worthy of the term, and tall, beautiful red-barked trees - Ponderosa pines among them - came up right to the edge of the road. It felt like a private road through the woods, even more so because we came upon almost no traffic for much of it. Part of that road - the highest areas - is not plowed in the winter, and no wonder!
We climbed up to Ebbetts Pass at 8,730 feet, then dropped down for awhile only to climb again at Pacific Grade Summit - 8.050 feet. Then we traversed Hermit Valley at 7,000 feet. Mosquito Lake reminded us of similar lakes and vistas we saw in the Black Hills in 2004. We stopped at a Big Trees state park and took a slow mile walk through giant Sequoias, some as old as 3,000 years, marveling at their incredible bulk. Those in the mountains are apparently the largest trees in the world; those on the coast (the “redwoods”, are the tallest). We passed Tamarack, Pop. 9, Elev. 6905 feet, and wondered - when does a place qualify as a “town”? A sign in Douglas Flats said: YES WE DO … Manipulate Superdelegates. (Whaaa ???) We saw a truck coming the other way: “Sweet Pea Septic Service” (note spelling). And on the way out of the mountains, passed Copperopolis. Throughout, tinges of yellow foliage served to further highlight to deep green of the trees.
Then down to the foothills of the Sierras to the west, great rolling hills of short golden brown grass, a great sense of emptiness punctuated by occasional ranch-style buildings, corrals, and even - sometimes - small herds of cattle. The streams were almost all completely dry, so where does the water come from? Wells, I guess - water enough for the cattle and occasional winery. It’s really quite a beautiful scene particularly because the rest of California is so incredibly built up. To think that there remains this amount of open space is quite remarkable.
Those hills gradually spread out into the central valley with its mix of wineries, large farms and orchards. What agricultural riches! And passing Stockton, once again on Interstates, we went over the coastal range with its army of wind turbines. Few were actually operating today. It’s HOT on the coast - definitely in the mid-to-upper 80’s here in Piedmont - and the wind is not blowing. But those turbines are like spiky soldiers guarding the coast, and when they are turning, as I have seen in the past, they are so very impressive.
Now we are at my aunt and uncle’s house enjoying their company, real home-cooked food with - amazing - vegetables! Tomorrow - Bodega Bay.
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tracy gladden
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Aloha
Julia and Tracy here. We are in beautiful Hawaii celebrating our joint birthdays (we are both 24 years old for this week only) We sat by the pool all day taking in some rays wondering where in the world you guys are! Nice to read your blog and we will keep checking in. Those trees sure are big! mahalo nui loa~