Jim and Sue L.
Junior Ranger
You've all been very good and patient. It's about time we got this started, so find a comfy seat by the campfire, relax and let me tell you a story...
September 3, 2012 - Labor Day. Most sane people stay off the roads on Labor Day, but who said we're sane. We left the house shortly after lunch and hot-footed as far as possible. Jim's goal was to be in Pennsylvania by Friday (reservations for Falling Water on Saturday, that's why), so that meant hard driving days on I80 ahead. We were looking at an average of 700 miles a day and had planned tandem driving as a survival tactic: one driving for several hours while the other slept. No problem there as I80 doesn't offer much in the line of scenery in Nevada and Utah. Nothing to see but dust, desert and salt flats and the yawn factor was going to set in pretty fast...or so we thought.
Shortly after reaching Auburn, we saw something unusual about several of the vehicles coming down from the mountains: they were covered in a light gray coating the like of snowy road residue. Now, that's odd, I thought, seeing as there hasn't been any snow in the Sierras for months. As we pondered this mystery, several more coated cars passed by...then more...then more until we were looking at a long convoy stretching out of sight. There were cars pulling trailers, converted school buses loaded with all types of gear tied down under flapping tarps, four wheelers and RVs of every kind and condition and they all carried bikes! Well, what the...?
Jim wondered if there was a fire in the mountains and these were refugees fleeing the flames? Well, California is always in flames somewhere, but nothing came to mind. They all showed signs of rain and that had us trying to remember where it had fallen recently...not California, but there had been some in the Nevada desert. And then a truck hauling a very large trailer passed. On top of the trailer was a fantastical contraption made up of scrap metal and spit and looked to all the world like the time machine out of H.G. Wells...except it was a horse. And then it hit us (no, not the truck), oh, right, "Burning Man".
Yes indeedy, ladies and gentlemen, the Burning Man festival was all...well, burn out...and the hoards of rampaging revelers were winding their weary way home. Jim was sure this would ease the mind numbing boredom of I80, at least for Nevada.
With this thought to cheer us, we hauled ass down the road and by sun down made it to our first stop: the KOA next to Boomtown, just outside of Reno. Let me make this clear: this is not a destination I would recommend, but there isn't any other place for your trailer - period. Because it was still the Labor Day weekend, they charged us $50 for a dirt patch parking space with an electrical hook-up. Nothing to see there but the casino up the hill. An expensive stop, but it was the only game in town. We were out as fast as possible the next dawn.
A pretty dawn, the sky all pink and pale blue, we made a quick stop at the local Pilot station where Jim gassed up the truck and I went in for coffee (Pilot always has good coffee and very clean restrooms). As I came out with our steaming mugs of liquid gold, a sorry looking pickup pulled along side Jim. It's bed was filled to overflowing with nameless junk, covered by a really cheep Indian carpet and barely held together by three very frayed bungees. To top it off, it was pulling a vintage Airstream and everything was coated in desert dust. Yep, another Burning Man escapee.
That poor old truck wheezed to a halt and two dis-shoveled (I think they were women, but I'm, still not sure) tumbled out of the passenger compartment and a third fell out of the trailer. Dressed in PJs,sandals and some sort of jackets (Jim is contesting this, he says they were too dirty to tell), the driver fiddled with the bungees as another staggered toward the restrooms and the third tried to figure out the gas pumps, but ended up just staring at them.
Jim made a comment about their not having seen the business end of a brush or, for that matter, soap in quite some time. I simply chalked it up to better living through pharmaceuticals. We decided on a hasty escape: Jim wanted to be miles ahead of them just in case they were headed east.
Now some of you might be shaking your heads at us concerning out attitude toward these folks and I grant you, they might be very nice people indeed under all that dust (yeah, they were as coated as the vehicles). All I can say is "Mea Culpa" and continue on.
On the road again. Jim's next goal was Rock Springs, Wy...another garden spot along the I80 corridor. It was a fun ride what with playing tag with various truckloads of debris from more Burning Man attendees. Some surprised us with their creativity and ingenuity with recycled materials. There were enormous trikes shaped like boats, rats, winged horses and other mythological creatures - we even saw a dragon. It was all very entertaining and we were surprised at the number of them heading into Utah, Wyoming and even Nebraska. At any rate, it kept us awake until Rock Springs where we stopped at the only place for miles (again): a KOA (again).
Now, I'm going to give you the KOA catalog description: "From your lawn chair, right at your campsite, you might see some of the bands of wild horses that roam the red desert surrounding Rock Springs. The orange and purple sunrises and sunsets rival the majesty of the free roaming herds." Oh, we beg to differ. Jim says it should read:"From your lawn chair (if you can hold it down under that 40 mph wind) on your strip of gravel, you will see the six, count 'em, six, one million gallon gasoline storage tanks ten yards from your site and right across a bustling interstate from Crazy Jack's Fireworks Emporium". Now, isn't that special? At least they didn't charge us $50...it was $47.50. Another early start was the decision because, as Jim put it, "I don't want to hang around for any accidental fireworks displays." I was with him on that. We hit the sack early, slept with one eye opened and left before sun up...and we didn't see any horses, wild or otherwise.
Another 700 mile day. We had been down this path last year and thought Wyoming beautiful and austere with it's early dusting of snow. This year was very different. It was a month earlier so no snow, but where were the herds if prong horns and those miles and miles of untouched high plains and streams? Where was the crystal clear sky and the pure air? Everywhere we looked we saw oil rigs and pipe lines, storage facilities and transfer stations. Not a single wild animal was in site and the air reeked of crude oil and gas fumes. We learned later that huge deposits of fuel had been discovered and Wyoming had gone oil mad-drilling, building and processing as fast as the fuel companies can say "profit". Good for the economy of Wyoming, but at such a cost... We drove on in silence (and that's a first for me as Jim will tell you) and came to our next target: Nebraska.
Corn as far as the eye can see, but not at the level of last year with it's corn "as high as an elephant's eye". The drought's hand was heavy here and the poor stunted things we saw were a far cry from the usual majestic waves of 8 foot tall stocks. A lot of folks were going to loose their farms after this season. So sad.
By evening we had passed Lincoln and stopped in a nice State Park for the evening. Eugene T. Mahoney State Park.Suffice it to say it was a hell of a better spot that the KOAs. Nice, quiet, woodsy park with grassy meadows and a good sized lake. We thoroughly enjoyed a quiet evening...until the skunk showed up for dinner. Fortunately, he went on his way and we finished our meal in peace. It didn't go so well for someone else...we nosed it later on.
And it's 10:02 PM and our grandbaby is due at 7:30 AM, so this is "quiet time" for us. Beddy-by for sure.
Tune in next time
Same Bat-time, same Bat-station.
Camp On
Sue and Jim
September 3, 2012 - Labor Day. Most sane people stay off the roads on Labor Day, but who said we're sane. We left the house shortly after lunch and hot-footed as far as possible. Jim's goal was to be in Pennsylvania by Friday (reservations for Falling Water on Saturday, that's why), so that meant hard driving days on I80 ahead. We were looking at an average of 700 miles a day and had planned tandem driving as a survival tactic: one driving for several hours while the other slept. No problem there as I80 doesn't offer much in the line of scenery in Nevada and Utah. Nothing to see but dust, desert and salt flats and the yawn factor was going to set in pretty fast...or so we thought.
Shortly after reaching Auburn, we saw something unusual about several of the vehicles coming down from the mountains: they were covered in a light gray coating the like of snowy road residue. Now, that's odd, I thought, seeing as there hasn't been any snow in the Sierras for months. As we pondered this mystery, several more coated cars passed by...then more...then more until we were looking at a long convoy stretching out of sight. There were cars pulling trailers, converted school buses loaded with all types of gear tied down under flapping tarps, four wheelers and RVs of every kind and condition and they all carried bikes! Well, what the...?
Jim wondered if there was a fire in the mountains and these were refugees fleeing the flames? Well, California is always in flames somewhere, but nothing came to mind. They all showed signs of rain and that had us trying to remember where it had fallen recently...not California, but there had been some in the Nevada desert. And then a truck hauling a very large trailer passed. On top of the trailer was a fantastical contraption made up of scrap metal and spit and looked to all the world like the time machine out of H.G. Wells...except it was a horse. And then it hit us (no, not the truck), oh, right, "Burning Man".
Yes indeedy, ladies and gentlemen, the Burning Man festival was all...well, burn out...and the hoards of rampaging revelers were winding their weary way home. Jim was sure this would ease the mind numbing boredom of I80, at least for Nevada.
With this thought to cheer us, we hauled ass down the road and by sun down made it to our first stop: the KOA next to Boomtown, just outside of Reno. Let me make this clear: this is not a destination I would recommend, but there isn't any other place for your trailer - period. Because it was still the Labor Day weekend, they charged us $50 for a dirt patch parking space with an electrical hook-up. Nothing to see there but the casino up the hill. An expensive stop, but it was the only game in town. We were out as fast as possible the next dawn.
A pretty dawn, the sky all pink and pale blue, we made a quick stop at the local Pilot station where Jim gassed up the truck and I went in for coffee (Pilot always has good coffee and very clean restrooms). As I came out with our steaming mugs of liquid gold, a sorry looking pickup pulled along side Jim. It's bed was filled to overflowing with nameless junk, covered by a really cheep Indian carpet and barely held together by three very frayed bungees. To top it off, it was pulling a vintage Airstream and everything was coated in desert dust. Yep, another Burning Man escapee.
That poor old truck wheezed to a halt and two dis-shoveled (I think they were women, but I'm, still not sure) tumbled out of the passenger compartment and a third fell out of the trailer. Dressed in PJs,sandals and some sort of jackets (Jim is contesting this, he says they were too dirty to tell), the driver fiddled with the bungees as another staggered toward the restrooms and the third tried to figure out the gas pumps, but ended up just staring at them.
Jim made a comment about their not having seen the business end of a brush or, for that matter, soap in quite some time. I simply chalked it up to better living through pharmaceuticals. We decided on a hasty escape: Jim wanted to be miles ahead of them just in case they were headed east.
Now some of you might be shaking your heads at us concerning out attitude toward these folks and I grant you, they might be very nice people indeed under all that dust (yeah, they were as coated as the vehicles). All I can say is "Mea Culpa" and continue on.
On the road again. Jim's next goal was Rock Springs, Wy...another garden spot along the I80 corridor. It was a fun ride what with playing tag with various truckloads of debris from more Burning Man attendees. Some surprised us with their creativity and ingenuity with recycled materials. There were enormous trikes shaped like boats, rats, winged horses and other mythological creatures - we even saw a dragon. It was all very entertaining and we were surprised at the number of them heading into Utah, Wyoming and even Nebraska. At any rate, it kept us awake until Rock Springs where we stopped at the only place for miles (again): a KOA (again).
Now, I'm going to give you the KOA catalog description: "From your lawn chair, right at your campsite, you might see some of the bands of wild horses that roam the red desert surrounding Rock Springs. The orange and purple sunrises and sunsets rival the majesty of the free roaming herds." Oh, we beg to differ. Jim says it should read:"From your lawn chair (if you can hold it down under that 40 mph wind) on your strip of gravel, you will see the six, count 'em, six, one million gallon gasoline storage tanks ten yards from your site and right across a bustling interstate from Crazy Jack's Fireworks Emporium". Now, isn't that special? At least they didn't charge us $50...it was $47.50. Another early start was the decision because, as Jim put it, "I don't want to hang around for any accidental fireworks displays." I was with him on that. We hit the sack early, slept with one eye opened and left before sun up...and we didn't see any horses, wild or otherwise.
Another 700 mile day. We had been down this path last year and thought Wyoming beautiful and austere with it's early dusting of snow. This year was very different. It was a month earlier so no snow, but where were the herds if prong horns and those miles and miles of untouched high plains and streams? Where was the crystal clear sky and the pure air? Everywhere we looked we saw oil rigs and pipe lines, storage facilities and transfer stations. Not a single wild animal was in site and the air reeked of crude oil and gas fumes. We learned later that huge deposits of fuel had been discovered and Wyoming had gone oil mad-drilling, building and processing as fast as the fuel companies can say "profit". Good for the economy of Wyoming, but at such a cost... We drove on in silence (and that's a first for me as Jim will tell you) and came to our next target: Nebraska.
Corn as far as the eye can see, but not at the level of last year with it's corn "as high as an elephant's eye". The drought's hand was heavy here and the poor stunted things we saw were a far cry from the usual majestic waves of 8 foot tall stocks. A lot of folks were going to loose their farms after this season. So sad.
By evening we had passed Lincoln and stopped in a nice State Park for the evening. Eugene T. Mahoney State Park.Suffice it to say it was a hell of a better spot that the KOAs. Nice, quiet, woodsy park with grassy meadows and a good sized lake. We thoroughly enjoyed a quiet evening...until the skunk showed up for dinner. Fortunately, he went on his way and we finished our meal in peace. It didn't go so well for someone else...we nosed it later on.
And it's 10:02 PM and our grandbaby is due at 7:30 AM, so this is "quiet time" for us. Beddy-by for sure.
Tune in next time
Same Bat-time, same Bat-station.
Camp On
Sue and Jim
