We left sunny St. George after walking to a very nice breakfast at Kneader's Bakery where the Wiley Cager left me in the stink hole to win the St. George open. She did fumble her pegs at one point, so I've asked Congressman Nunes, whose reputation for impartiality and forthrightness is unquestioned by his Republican colleagues. Maybe he can get to the bottom of things, since he claims to be effective. In the meantime, I'll just salt my wounds with the bitter bile of the beaten. At the freeway entrance we had a choice to head South to warm sun, beautiful bodies, and a need for sun screen. Instead, we headed North (It looked like Alaska). Before long we headed into a near gale (Headwinds blowing well beyond what I'd be comfortable sailing in), and then, right around Cedar City, this white stuff appeared everywhere. At first I thought it was cotton left over from the Mormon settlers, but then I remembered: Snow. (That stuff we went South to avoid). The truck thermometer read 34 degrees, which even with the heat turned on created goose bumps on my bare legs because, silly me, I still thought we were in the tropics. Things got way better when we made the split from I-15 to I-70. We climbed up and over a snow laced grade into a jagged rock valley which eons ago was home to several hundred Fremont Indians. The state park is a monument to their lifestyle, and much of their history remains, including several hundred petroglyphs, a few replicas of the pit houses they lived in, and a very nice museum. We're tucked nicely into site #2 at the Sam Stowe Canyon Campground. It has only seven sites, and has been mostly used as a group site. The state just opened it to single campers, which may explain (If the snow doesn't) why we're the only ones here. We'll stay here two days because the weather tomorrow is supposed to be near sixty with little wind and a promise of bright skies. We'll ride one of our favorite rides, which my cousin Douglas turned us onto on our first trip through here a few years ago. It's a paved rail trail a little over six miles long up toward an area called Big Rock Candy Mountain. The trail is three times longer if a rider were to follow it all the way to Richfield. We won't. We'll leave from our campsite here and the round trip will be somewhere in the mid twenties. Excellent. Actually, I'm just giving my Bunny a hard time. Truth be known, I'm just as anxious to get home as she is, but the romance of that will wear off as soon as I hit the biting cold of Spokane spring. She says I can just hide down in the shop. She's pretty smart, that one, so in that light life is good, especially today.
We're heading North for what reason?
This is a way cool campground: Power, water, scenery. Nice!
This is part of a monument to Jedidiah Smith, a mountain man who first traveled this area. There are fifteen or so points of interest that we'll check out tomorrow afternoon.
The homestead family, (Mom dad, and six kids, originally) lived in this house from the late eighteen hundreds until 1953.
More pictures of Indian art tomorrow. These are etched on the rocks right behind Frac.
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