Adventure 17: Palisade State Park, Utah

Ravishing Red Rocks

We celebrated our first week of traveling by cooking up a $23 dollar boneless ribeye steak that we bought in Kimball Junction, Utah at the Whole Foods. Because it was me, I didn't look at the price at the time, but no matter, we would have done it anyway. We came to Kimball Junction to see my cousin, Joan, who thanks to Douglas (her brother), we discovered was just a half hour away from Rockport State Park. it just so happened that Joan's lifelong friend, Claudia Curran, was visiting. Claudia and I have a history, albeit a brief tete-te-tete as middle schoolers, so I was in the company of three hot sixties babes. I'm married to one, played house with another, and flirted like a Greek god with Roman hands with the third. It could only get better if they were redheads. We found Palisade State Park to be another of Utah's excellent state parks. While it is quite far from civilization, it suited our needs nicely. We circumnavigated the lake after a nice lunch at the Lakeside Grill, which is connected to a fine little eighteen hole golf course. The second day, we mounted our tandem speedster and road a thirty mile loop from the park into Gunnison out to Mayfield and back. It was an excellent tandem riding experience, especially since we got the ride in before the twenty-something winds kicked up. Oblivious to the raging wind, we spent the afternoon curled up with our books, music, cards, and computers. Thin gruel most certainly! On the tournament front, Miss Judy, the cheater, won the Rockport Cribbage open, and on the strength of back to back skunks, the Palisade Open, too. I did contemplate a drive into Gunnison because I saw a sign advertising guns when we rode through town in the morning, but I resisted the temptation. We have driven 1237.5 miles so far. Our traveling days have usually been just under 200 miles. We look forward to an extended ten day stay in the Kodachrome basin beginning tomorrow. On the way, if the forecasted weather front isn't too ominous, we'll ride a rail trail near Sevier, Utah called the Candy Mountain Express. It is a paved seven mile trail through what is reported to be a beautiful canyon. With riding and the more than ten thousand steps a day we're walking, we'll soon round into shape instead of being just round. Life is good, especially today!

The sixties babes out back of Joan's condo: Judy, Joan, Claudia.

Jukele practice in the back of Frac: "Take me out to the Ball Game"; "House of the Rising Sun";  "Wayfaring Stranger"; "Little Liza Jane"; More to come...

 So far the online reservation system used by the Utah State Parks has been flawless.
 View from Frac's "Great Room" window: Palisade Lake

 Home made curly fries complimented by turkey avocado on chiabatta: Walking food.

 I found this Señora wandering around on the lake trail. I promised her a wedding.

 Look at this rock!

 The Señora had to wait while I carved the proposal. It was a decent one!

 According to the locals, the lake has been low due to drought for two years.

 Turn around and you see this valley. Without irrigation, it would be sage brush.

 Sunset view from our "Great Room".

 Riding the back roads from Gunnison, Utah (Population: 8,000) to Mayfield (Population @ 235). Good road, good view, sparse traffic, light wind. What more could tandem riders want? 

Adventure 16: Rockport State Park, Utah

It's Easy to Like Utah

After Mass at St. Joseph's where Father John came close to fighting words when his rambling homily suggested that evolution was real, that biblical technocrats shouldn't get lost in the small stuff, that the lunatics in Washington should be more respectful, and that eons ago rodents bigger than humans was just wrong, we left muttering to ourselves that our casper milk-toast Presbytery never goes near such topics. Eschewing our normal oatmeal breakfast, Judy fixed apple walnut pancakes, an egg, and some little sausages: a feast. Traveling was uneventful and we were welcomed warmly by Rob, our camp host, at Rockport State Park. The first day the weather was fabulous: warm, clear, calm. The next morning we rode twice. First, we rode the highway on the tandem for about eighty minutes to a little unincorporated town called Peoa. It was uphill against light wind; the scenery a mix of rugged rocks, bright orangish-red oak bush, and cattle spreads. After lunch, we drove down to Wanship, which is a trailhead for a hall of fame rail trail that goes from Park City to Echo reservoir. We rode eight miles uphill toward Park City. The trail was red rock gravel with scattered "sticker" plants on the surface. However, because the weather has been dry here, the surface was firm, which could easily not be the case. Rail riding is much harder than pavement riding, so we kept our distance down (We didn't ride at all during September, so our conditioning is suspect). At any rate we've managed just under eighty miles this first week. I was the Pocatello Open cribbage champion (I always cheat), but Judy (My valiant hunny bunny) was a close second. The weather has changed rapidly. This afternoon the wind is howling, which according to Rob's (the camp host) joints and muscles, means a storm is about to enter the valley. No matter, we're snug bugs in our little Frac where life is good, especially today.

 The view from our front porch. The reservoir, which serves Ogden, is about a quarter full.

 Site number 23, right at water's edge (in summer).

 Our neighbors kayaking.

 Rob, the camp host, delivering wood in his Kawasaki mule.

 I took advantage of the nice afternoon to do a little bicycle cleaning.

 We sat by the fire after dinner.

 Frac looks good even in the dark.

 Wanship trail head: notice the frickin' sixty-seven year old biker chick in the yellow.

The trail heading north to Coalville and beyond.

Smiling since she's going down hill with the wind.

The surface was firm and dry, but the ruts suggest softness is just a rainstorm away.

Judy thinks she will take up skiing next month.

Adventure 15: Pocatello, Idaho

A Tight Squeeze for the Night

We left Dillon at nine-thirty under bright blue skies and an outside temperature of twenty-two. Our spirits were as bright as the weather, especially Judy's since she skunked me to win the Dillon cribbage open. (I'm sure she cheated.) We arrived in Pocatello just before 1 P.M. and squeezed into spot eight right between a couple of long-term residents. No matter, we're here for just one night, and we chose to stay in Pocatello so we could go to Mass at St. Joseph's, a classic stone church built around 1890. Pocatello itself is nestled in a natural bowl. Idaho State University, established in 1902, takes up a good portion of the old city. Suburban sprawl has crept up the Western hillside, and the population is large enough to support three high schools.  For the afternoon, we drove up to Lava Hot Springs and relaxed in the mineral baths. A cheap thrill for $10. When we were wrinkled, shriveled, and relaxed, we headed back to Pocatello. We rode for an hour heading South on the old Bannock highway. It was a good stretch of the legs, since the only other exercise we got today was walking around the old town neighborhood near St. Joseph's. It's too far to walk from the RV park, so we'll drive to early Mass tomorrow. We're both eager to get to our next spot (Rockport State Park) because we'll spend two nights there. We've already discovered that we don't care for one night stands, though these last two were necessary to get us out of the freeze, and who wouldn't enjoy a bucolic drive through farm country with the Tetons on one side and the Beaverheads on the other. Snowcapped mountains under blue skies are especially impressive. Most of all, we enjoyed the hot springs. We chose the uncrowded pools right behind the old hotel in Lava Hot Springs. Mostly, it was just Judy, the fall leaves, and myself soaking in the soothing 107 degree water. A scrumptious way to enjoy the good life, especially today.

Frac, the only Airstream in the park, was feeling a little fenced in.

 The frickin' sixty-seven year old stoker ready for action!

 She insisted on getting a photo of her captain.

 The courtyard behind the old hotel in Lava Hot Springs.

 Stop action photography. This wind feature was actually spinning.

 The hottest babe in the tub.

 Way hotter than that tattooed redhead in the background!

 One of several pools. This one was the hottest at about 107 degrees.

 St. Joseph's in its grandeur, though the parish is a shared conglomerate these days, and the school no longer operates.

 See you later, partners.

Adventure 14: Dillon, Montana

Wet Snow, Twenty-Six Degrees

Thank the Lord for traveling mercies. We extended our stay in Kalispell in order to miss the snow storm that blanketed much of the middle west. It is good that we decided to bypass the Black Hills. Rapid City recorded seventeen inches with more promised. Our travel day was sky blue beautiful. Traffic was light and roads were dry until we entered the Butte area, where cold gray clouds draped the freshly snow covered mountains.  Our highlights began early in the morning with the mist rising off Flathead Lake, and the view from Polson had more shades of blue than a Billie Holliday song. We weren't sad because as soon as we left the lake we entered the Mission Valley. Few mountain ranges can boast the magnificence of the Missions. The highlight of our day was a visit to the church at St. Ignatius, likely known to some as the Sistine chapel of the west. In my travels I have often wondered why in the world people would settle in a certain place. I have no such concerns about the Mission Valley. If I had been born a Salish Indian, a pioneer, or a Jesuit priest, I certainly could not have chosen a better place. We arrived in Dillon around 2 P.M. We're hooked up for the night in a cute little RV park called Southside RV. The sites are level, the wifi is strong, and the free showers are hot. We took a walking tour through Dillon, stopped at an obligatory yarn shop where we met one of Jeff Seidensticker's old girl friends. That's not quite true. She said she did know Jeff and Patti, but that she was behind them a bit in school. It's nice to be famous, even if you've left your home town for big city life. Wet snow and heavy wind had hit Dillon the night before, so everywhere crews were cleaning broken branches from the streets. Under the crisp blue sky, it was hard to believe what nature had provided just one night before. I'm eager to get to points south where the sun is warm, but having said that, I'm happy to be right where I am. We're bound to miss some things on this adventure, and today we missed the Amish food store in St. Ignatius. We followed two horse drawn buggies through town, but in our eagerness to find the church, we missed the cue. Who really needs fresh cured meats and home made cheeses anyway? On a winning note, I managed to win the deciding game of the Kalispell cribbage tournament, though I was tempted to buy a firearm (quite easily done in Montana) in order to shoot the fingers off of my opponent's hand because even though she's not too skilled, she tries to cheat on a regular basis just like I taught her. And of course, she relishes a life that is good, especially today.

 Built in 1894, the church must rank as one of the most opulent statements in the Jesuit West.

 I felt the mysteries of faith as soon as I entered the sanctuary 

 My camera couldn't capture the magnificence. Come see for yourself.

 Jesuit fathers lived in the left cabin and Sisters of the Providence in the right.

 Most amazing to me is that the church was wide open to visitors even on a Friday morning.

 A glimpse of the Mission Mountains: God's sanctuary.

 No riding today. We're a bit squeamish in thirty-seven degree weather.

 Last night the warning sirens were blaring, but today all was quiet.

Even the spruce trees have frozen fingers.

 Wheel art: markings left from crossing the great divide.

 Has anyone seen Judy?