Eastward progress

Friday (Nevada to Wyoming 410 miles)

In the morning we gas up (something we did a lot, and for huge buckets of money for the Behemoth) and TGF says she thinks she can drive after all. While I am relieved that I won’t have the responsibility of driving that thing I remain worried about her body.

(I confess I am writing this almost a week later and things are getting fuzzy, plus I am behind exhausted – more emotionally than physically at this point.)

Once again the eerie beauty of the Great Salt Lake Desert captured my imagination. How did this stretch get crossed the first time, how could those people known how to go on. This time I noticed more rock messages, similar to those in Nevada but the here the colour contrast was more stark, more distinctly black & white. Initials and names made up most of the messages but there was also a heart shaped peace sign. New art installations used soda or water bottles stuck upside down to form shapes or designs. Back in 2001 I don’t remember so many rock markings, certainly not the bottles. Perhaps there are just more traveling east, or there is more of this sort of thing. I wonder if Burning Man has had an impact on this desert art.

Traveling east the views of the actual salt water lake are not quite as tantalizing but it still is an awesome thing to behold in the middle of the desert landscape. Also as has been noted by other travelers entering Salt Lake city from the east is much more striking vista but it is still amazing how suddenly a large scale city is ahead of you after so much nothing.

The red rock of Utah towered above us as we cruised down the road. Suddenly I got an urge to call Glamour Girl to see how she was fairly with her chemo treatment. With all that has been going on in my world I have been a less than attentive friend to her and others. However the signal on my blackberry was invisible. Don’t I sound oh so hip? I’m not. It’s a low end model that a friend got on a deal which became a better deal when the fabu deal buster website, that I won’t link here because I am not willing to be responsible for creating more addiction to the web, did not charge her for it. I barely know how to work the damn thing and it randomly calls people while sitting in my bag, but other than that it’s great. Anyway, I had to wait until I crossed states and called her from Wyoming. I am happy to report that she is doing really well and seems to managing her treatments with grace and good feelings.

Our mutual limit was reached and Rawlins was picked as our next resting stop for the evening. Like other cities (Chicago and the cows come to mind) Rawlins has the Pronghorn Pride Project which I learned about via billboards. I never saw any of the art project versions but I did see lots of actual pronghorn antelope during our drive through the state, which was really cool!

Once again we settled at a Super 8, though this one was far more costly than the other one, which was surprising because it’s not like this town is bustling or anything. Calling another hotel in our line of vision gave the same result so we stuck with the place that we knew accepted pets and had free wireless. Unfortunately TGF got a bit stuck in the gravel of the parking area next door and had to work the Behemoth a bit to get into a better spot. By this point she was in major pain and swore that I would have to drive the next day, which course I said I would.

This was the first night we had a fridge and microwave in the room, which felt like the lap of luxury about now. We each heated something in the microwave and nibbled on various little things until we were reasonably sated. The room seemed awfully smelly between my sinking Tevas, heated Indian food and tortilla soup. I couldn’t take the stench and was sure it was my shoes beyond our food, animals, their food or anything else contributing to the odor, so I grabbed my Tevas and took them outside, propping them on the roof of PB. At this time the wind had begun kicking up so I tucked them under the roof rack just a bit and then used the rest of my strength to open the door against the powerful winds for the umpteen time that night. Unloading a dog, three cat carriers (Marcelle and Atticus were sharing the really large one), our bags, litter boxes, their food, etc made every evening and morning akin to a small moving job.

Soon we settled into a sleep after deciding on a new goal and attempting to bolster myself for the task of driving the Behemoth the next day. We had managed to do just over 1000 miles of about 2400 and time was feeling rather pressured to me but I remained hopeful we would make serious progress.

The barrenness of Nevada

Thursday. Nevada to Nevada (365 miles)

After getting some gas I hop on the highway to catch up to TGF but I’m not seeing her, so I call. Nothing. No answer. Barreling along I keep trying to phone her to no avail, which is pissing me off a bit because she called me just before taking off.

The western part of Nevada is as naked of colour and charm as I remember it being on the trip west. I ponder the arrangement of black rocks against the beige sand, wondering where the hell she is, The Purple Beast loses power. As in dies. I coast onto the shoulder and feel panic starting to rise. The exit behind is far, I have no idea where the next one is, I have a car full of animals, and I’m in a desert. It shocked me how out of control and alone I felt so quickly. Suddenly my phone rings and I cannot stop myself from yelling a bit – “Where the hell have you been! The car died, the hood won’t pop.” Quickly I rein myself in and say I’m going to try starting her again and for TGF to find a rest stop. PB blessedly starts back up and we meet at a rest stop not too far up the road. On the drive there the hood loosens so it easily opens for a looksee. Following us to the rest stop is a brigade of Model T Fords or something like them and I mutter something about them still running. (I do have a photo of one but I have downloaded nothing so far. Sorry!) A friendly man from the DOT or the Highway Department (he had a uniform and "company" vehicle so he was an official something or other) comes over and pokes around our car. We all decide to agree it was a vapor lock in the fuel line and all is fine.

Nevada stretches ahead of us for a long time and the mountain passes come up every so often. As I ride along I continue to look for the messages spelled out, the artful rock piles and hope that we can make the next goal I set out for us as we are behind my carefully constructed schedule by about 125 miles.

A little tidbit for travelers: The entire town of Elko is a wireless hotspot. Go figure. San Francisco isn't but this little diddly squat place in the desert is, weird.

Late in the day somehow, perhaps I made an extra stop, TGF is far ahead of me and I am trying to catch up. The sun is just starting to lower in the sky as yet another rise crests and begins to fall. My phone rings and she is breathless, sounding a little scared and perhaps beaten down. The downward slope off the mountain was really hard for her to manage and she was shaken, done even. We agreed to call it a night as soon as there seemed a good spot to pull off.

Soon West Wendover’s lights were welcoming us as dusk fell, glistening fading streams of light hitting the Great Salt Desert, with the bright lights of casinos directly in front of the vast salt lands beyond as the road curved downward. Tonight’s host is a Super 8 and dinner was the very disappointing and expensive buffet at the Rainbow Casino. At this point TGF’s shoulder injury was hurting something evil and we talked about me taking over the truck driving to her a rest. I confess that I was a bit daunted by driving the behemoth but was ready to do whatever needed to be done. We tucked ourselves and the beasties in, hoping to dream sweet dreams and face the next day.