Wednesday, March 16
Stayed last night in Green River, UT….which, as any
fan of ‘Fievel Goes West’ knows, is where Fievel and family end up in their
western adventure. The town today does
not in any way resemble the animated version.
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Took I-70 West from the Colorado line to US 15. The mountains/rocks, with layers of sediment
and years of being sculpted by the wind and rain, are astounding! And the canyons just add to the beauty. I have this urge to take pictures of
everything, knowing full well the pictures won’t capture the enormity of what my
eyes are seeing. I’d tell myself to put
the camera down, then we’d round a curve and just that quick the camera was in
my hand again. It’s a compulsion.
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Seen on a panel at a scenic overlook: “…. called the Silent City, a jagged
cityscape formed by a great rock wall, the San Rafael Reef. You are about to enter and cross the San
Rafael Swell, a large anticline where the earth’s crust has been heaved from
below to form a great dome of rock layers.”
The one word that stuck out to me was ‘anticline’…had no idea what it
meant. So I
turned to Google….this is what the website ‘Geonami’ had to say: An anticline is a fold that maintains an upwards
convex shape, with the oldest beds found at it’s core. To put it basically, it
is a fold structure in which the sides of the fold slope apart. Within an
anticline, the strata dip away from the centre (crest) of the fold. In many
cases, anticlines are formed as a result of movement on non-planar faults –
during both shortening and extension.
That probably makes sense to someone who’s geologically
minded but it means nothing to me. I just know the result of this ‘anticline’
is fairly breathtaking.
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The truck isn’t getting great mileage, pulling the
trailer up hills and mountains, with a slight reprieve from the strain on the
downside. Highest elevation today was
7886 ft (Ghost Rock Summit)….and FYI, I don’t enjoy 6% downgrades. We’re in Cedar City and still at about 5900
ft, which explains why I was short of breath on the short walk to get
supper.
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There are signs along 70 that will alert motorists as
to how far it is to the next town with services. A sign outside of Green River indicated that
it was 110 miles to the next town with gas, food, etc. As we’re driving along, there were signs for
little towns along the way, but the signs also indicated ‘No Services’. My question is: why would somebody live in an
area where you have to drive 20 to 50 miles to get gas? You’d use a quarter of a tank just getting
home.
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There were snow covered mountains way out in the
distance all day….curious as to what range they might be. I thought maybe the Sierra Nevada range,
since they were west of us and were high enough to have snow. However, as we came down off the San Rafael
Swell, I realized the mountains were much closer than the Sierra Nevadas would
be. So I googled it….didn’t find the
answer to my question but I did find out that the section of I-70 from Green
River to Salina, through the San Rafael Swell is the “longest distance in the Interstate Highway System with no
motorist services.” Okay, so it’s in the Highway Hall of Fame (or would
be if there was such a thing), but I still can’t see the point of living along
it.
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We left Green River, we crossed the San Rafael Swell,
we ate lunch in Salina….life was going along just fine. Then, suddenly it wasn’t. We lost our gauges, speedometer, radio, etc.,
while cruising down the highway; figured we blew a fuse. Decided it was prudent to take the next exit,
not only to check the fuses but to get gas if possible. Exit for Parowan (pop. 2,839) was a mile up the highway. As we’re making the turn into the station,
all the gauges come back to life, the blinkers work and the radio comes on to
some weird AM station. Don’t know
why that happened, but Yay!! Pumped gas, use the bathroom, get in the truck…and
it wouldn’t start. Kim started checking
everything he could think of….tried jumping it with our extra battery, then
with someone else’s vehicle….truck remained silent. While
the gas station in Parowan was a hopping little place, the town didn’t offer
much in the way of the kind of help we needed. So, with my handy dandy smart phone, I
searched for a Ford dealer; closest was in Cedar City, 17 miles away….open til
6 p.m….it was now 5:30….hurry up, call!!
Kim calls, explains our dilemma and arranges for a tow truck from Cedar
City to come out. Have to get the truck to the
garage to get it checked out. Like the
snow in Denver, this, too, was definitely not in our plan. While this whole thing played out, we were
stuck by the gas pump with the hood up; the truck was hooked up to the battery
charger and every so often, Kim would jump in the truck and try to start
it. Click, click, click…nothing. Then on one of those random attempts, it
started. Like nothing had ever been
wrong, it started. First thing is to
pull away from the pumps and second thing is to wait for the tow truck to arrive.
We make a plan with the driver…since we
are all heading to Cedar City and the truck is now running, the tow truck will
just follow us, in case we should have trouble.
Gauges go out again about a mile from the Ford dealer just after we parted ways with the tow truck...oh, shit! We make it in the parking lot and park badly by
the service bay doors but since the dealership is closed, parking correctly doesn't seem like a big deal. Kim got out of the truck to figure out where
we should park, jumps in the truck and can’t get it in gear. The shifter won’t move… oh, shit! Where we parked has now become a very big deal and this is feeling like a very bad comedy. Longer story shorter: find man locking the dealership yard…get battery
pack…truck starts…shifter moves…park and unhook trailer...unload bikes…leave truck…ride bikes
to find hotel. Kim has to be there
tomorrow at 8 a.m. to explain what our truck is doing there. Now, is that the definition of a great adventure or what??
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