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20260609

I had decided I would drive from Longmont, Colorado, to Auburn, Washington, south of Seattle instead of flying. It's four days of driving for three and half days of visiting plus a couple of days to explore some new sights along the travel corridor.

I did a little senseless rationalization of driving over flying. Flying consumes almost a couple of waking days with getting to and from airports compared to four long days driving. Flying is slightly better in terms of the carbon footprint because flying usually means using less hydrocarbons per person than driving. The cost - it's probably a wash given fuel costs and maintenance for the car. With driving, I do get to see some new places.

I got to bed on the later side the night before my departure because of my French class. I did fill up the car with gas and partially loaded stuff that evening. So with a relaxed pace this morning I launched by 8:40AM. I defaulted to taking I-25 north to Cheyenne instead of the back road to Laramie. That was a fiasco. I-25 is constantly under construction with decades of expansions that never seems to be enough. So traffic was very heavy until I reached Fort Collins. Leaving Cheyenne heading west on I-80, the electronic road condition signs reported increasingly ominous messages. The first ones restricted vehicles with trailers to only those with greater than 20,000lbs because of 40+mph winds. This increased to 35,000lbs and then 45,000lbs because of 55+mph winds when I reached west of Laramie. I did watch several big rigs struggle to stay in their lane. Surprisingly there were a number of tourists pulling light camper trailers that decided to brave the winds.

I was buffeted about a little, but mostly the wind devoured the $4.50 per gallon gasoline like it was Gatorade on a 110F Pheonix afternoon. Let's just say my mileage suffered a bit. I-80 across southern Wyoming can be a challenge in the winter - if it stays open - but today that extended into the summer months as well. The skies were dark and rain fell occasionally. The surrounding grass lands were the greenest I've ever seen them.

I turned northwest off of I-80 onto Hwy30 west of Little America. The wind was still blowing though slower and the sun had emerged. There was very little traffic which I liked. I settled back listening to a couple of French news podcasts.

Then suddenly, far from any services, my instrument cluster lit up with warning messages and flashing lights and the cruise control (adaptive cruise) stopped working. Dash messages read that adaptive cruise was disabled, crash avoidance was turned off, lane keep assist was turned off, and a brake system warning light appeared. I felt like I was on Apollo 13! I pulled off, turned the car off and then restarted it. Hmmm, no messages. The car seemed fine. I started back to heading west on Hwy30 and engaged adaptive cruise. About 5-10 minutes later all hell broke loose again with warning messages. I restarted the car again, but this time I never engaged the adaptive cruise. I drove the remainder of the day 'old school' maintaining my speed with my right foot. What a chore! Fortunately the instrument cluster just reported my wavering speed with no failure messages.

I stopped at Bear Lake east of Logan. I'd spent the night here in the winter of 24/25 on my way to Revelstoke. I also swung by Beaver Mountain ski resort where I'd skied that season. The ski runs were beautiful blankets of green grass. A new lodge had been built at the base.

From Beaver Mountain I descended alongside Beaver Creek to Logan, Utah, the home of the University of Utah. On the Beaver Creek road, there were three stretches of single lane traffic with lights set up to control the traffic; an example of many stretches of the drive today with construction. Beaver Creek is a beautiful mountain creek with a steady drop, splashing frothy water, and bushes and trees that crowd the banks often overhanging the water.

Traveling west of Logan, I thought I spied some of the old Salt Lake shorelines high on the surrounding hillsides when Salt Lake must have looked more like an inland sea. I exited I-84 heading west on a very straight road for 15 miles past farm and ranch land. I passed a newly built house made out of two metal grain silos and a shipping container. Picture a shoe with windows and you're starting to see it. I wish I stopped for a photo. It was very creative, inviting, with a whimsical charm. It looked practical as well.

The road turned north and at the Utah Idaho border a single track National Forest road cut back to the east. I passed a spot littered with several dozen shotgun shell casings and scattered parts of clay pigeons - we humans do like to leave our mark! I followed the dirt road for a mile or so into a low desert forest of junipers and scrubby pines where I elected to spend the night. The stormy clouds seen earlier in the travel were all gone as was the wind. The place I parked felt very isolated and infrequently visited.

20260610

My! I slept much better than I had expected when I lay down. I'd parked the car tilted sideways which meant I tended to slip in one direction. And my gout had flared in my left foot because I hadn't drunk enough water. I awoke once during the night to see the half-moon in the east and then didn't wake again until the sun was peeking through the low trees.

I boiled some water for coffee and enjoyed a cup.

While I sipped, the gentle sound of many many soft snaps could be heard reminding me of the sound diving on coral reefs. At first I thought it a lost cause to track down the source but then a slight movement near the top of an eight foot juniper tree and suddenly the insects making the sounds were visible everywhere. I believe they may be related to cicadas. They are about an inch long with a big head, widely spaced eyes, translucent wings, and a bean size abdomen. A molted brown color they blend in well against the bark of the trees. I spotted two mating. From the sounds I could tell they were situated near the tops of most of the trees all around me. I imagined they might make a tasty morsel for birds.

Still enjoying a warm coffee, a conversation of soft soothing sounds could be heard coming from a tree 5 meters away. It was a group of 4 to 8 brown birds slightly bigger than a fist with small crowns on their heads. They fluttered about the trees with one pair tumbling up and down through the air and the branches in a caressing manner. The group soon wandered elsewhere.

Driving back to the paved road, I headed west and then north on the road toward Malta. Before getting that far, I turned west onto an improved dirt road and continued west passing just south of a mountain group and into what feels like another north-south valley arriving at the town of Almo after about 10 miles. I decided to visit the City of Rocks National Reserve Visitor Center in Almo to start things off. The Reserve is separate from the Castle Rocks State Park north of Almo. The State Park charges $7/day/vehicle. The Reserve is free. If you want to camp at the Reserve online reservations are required; I don't know if there is a fee. The visitor center felt more like shop to sell Reserve merchandise, but they did have a couple of information posters and a video that provided an overview of the Reserve. There is a potable water spigot next to the parking lot and an immaculate pit toilet.

At the Reserve Visitor Center, I chatted with a helpful young person in a ranger type outfit. She pointed out some trails and her favorite spots. She also told me that south of town just past the blue house (when that's the only thing out here it makes for a great landmark!) is an access road to a BLM camping site with a pit toilet that is free; no water though. I decided that would be the place to spend the night.

The road from Almo to the Reserve follows a portion of the California Trail. I'd heard of the Oregon Trail, but not the California one. I parked at the Bath Rock parking lot.

The City of Rocks is a popular destination for climbers seeking to challenge their skills on the white granite. Many of the trail markers call out various pitches. There are bolts set into the rocks on many of the climbs to provide safety points. Many climbers seemed to be using this area as a training ground with top roping. Most of whom I saw in the Reserve were climbers. Every third vehicle was a sprinter van type. There was an outdoor mentoring group from Austin Texas. License plates included Idaho, Utah, Colorado, and Texas. I may be making the place sound crowded, but in the 4+ mile hike I took in and around the rock formations and gulches I basically only saw people at a couple of the easily accessible climbs.

It's late spring here. I saw several types of birds: small raptors, turkey vultures, blue birds, ravens, and small brown birds. One of the lush gulches had a small amount of clear water flowing. The flowers were blooming with the crimson and yellow cactus being the most spectacular.

This seems to have been a good time of year to visit. The camp grounds were mostly empty, the temperature ranged from low 50 to 70F. Things were still green. I could do without the wind.

By 4PM, I'd made my way to the BLM campsite. I am the only person there.