Flashback Friday 2004-2014

Repost of Day 2 of my solo trip to Utah back in 2004.  

Up at 4:30 am with a good nights rest. Swam a bit at the nice expensive hotel and then to bed. Slept like a contented baby. Went down for breakfast at 6:00 and had cinnamon rolls, coffee and 2 glasses of skim milk. Off on Route 50 through the mountains.

Indescribable - fun twisting turns - no traffic, beautiful scenery. Fantastic riding through valleys and high atop mountains. All along I saw signs, "Falling Rock" that I thought quaint tourist warnings. Along one road I hit a softball size rock that could have thrown me and the bike, but we came out of it OK.

At one turn I saw a kid in a meadow by a stream playing his guitar.

Then on to Moab - by the way it is hotter that Hell here with the heating bouncing off the rock. Utah is a god-forsaken desolate area. There is no road kill because all the animals moved out. I mean there is nothing out here. The rock color and formations is awe-inspiring. I went to a couple of scenic rest areas. The rock formations all blend into one after a while, they are starting to look alike.

Decided to trek Northward around 3:00 pm. Made it to Price Utah. Checked in at a no-tent campground - all rock. People here have no water and German Nazi lady at front desk. I asked how much she would charge to sleep on rock and she said $10.00. Crap! OK how about use of the pool, well that will cost you another $4.00.

I'm at the pool now and the place is a pig sty. Water is fowl, buggy and dirty. Sleeping on rock tonight ought to be a challenge. Tomorrow I'll find a nice cheap motel.

After I tried to pitch the tent in gravel and tied to a pitiful tree, I went over and had supper at the El Rancho Bar and Grill.
Tidbits on the day:

This supposedly two-man tent will barely house me. So much for 'truth in advertising'.

There are ground squirrels all over the place in the mountain areas of Colorado. Bu they are far smaller than those in Illinois.

Ironic - I was in Colorado the Spring before I started Mary Davis Home, and now I return same year after having retired from MDH.

Traveling should be a shared experience - Looking at the wonders of nature needs instant feedback from another traveller.

These rocks are hard - I'm staying at a motel tomorrow and not camping until there is real live grass.

I don't know if this is a life-altering experience. It more or less confirmed what I already felt:
1. I hate traffic
2. I hate speed (?)
3. Maybe at this age it simply means an appreciation of what is out there. I may not pass this way again.
4. Camping is for hobos and nature freaks. both of which I am not.