September 22, 2004—Aspen and sage along Utah’s Highway 6

We were able to put cold Montana behind us after receiving the last of our mail and packages. It was a cold start morning—the diesel didn’t want to start and the slides were frozen in the overnight’s 25 degrees. We couldn’t dump the tanks. Then there was the five mile trip out down the sloggy, mucky dirt road, after just having washed the rig. The surrounding mountains were snow coated and when we crossed the border into Idaho on I-15 the temperature read 39 degrees.

Our proposed stop was Chubbuck, ID, the sister city to Pocatello for those who don’t know the west. There’s a Supercenter Walmart there, right off I-84, which only took us 1 mile off our route of travel down I-15. Since we arrived about 3 p.m. we spent over an hour shopping at both the Walmart and the Grocery Outlet right across the street. For those who don’t know, the Grocery Outlet stores are THE BEST for saving money. They have one in Bend, in Redmond, in Coos Bay, and in Chico, and other than that this is the first one I had seen. It’s typical to save up to 60% and those that carry wine have tremendous savings on name brand wines for ridiculously low prices.  

Knowing we’re headed to the far desert, we stocked up on everything. Camp Wally-World is not the best overnighting, but the price is right and they are very accommodating about having us stay. While we were there, Marc made a call to the guy who had been his trainer at Crete Carriers when he was learning to do long haul driving. His wife gave us the cell phone number to reach John and Marc called and found out that John was scheduled to be in the Crete terminal in Salt Lake City today. Since we were going that way anyway, we arranged to stop and we had a nice reunion visit over lunch in the rig. 

If there was a humanly possible way to go around Salt Lake City we would. It is a traffic nightmare, although I will say, that the freeway has improved infinitesimally since the Olympics. The freeways in SLC are in a constant state of evolution and they never seem to get done. Plus, the city itself just seems to keep morphing into more and more and more to where you enter suburbia within 30 miles of the Idaho border and it’s just one continuous mess for nearly 100 miles. Thankfully, we took the turnoff for Hwy. 6 shortly south of Provo and found a lovely boondocking spot to ourselves just on the far side of a rest stop. It’s down a dirt road, of course, in a canyon lined with pinion pine and a small creek.

Tomorrow will find us at our next destination—Goblin Valley State Park, truly in the middle of nowhere. I’m back in the land of red rock and those blue, blue skies and feeling quite satisfied even if the temperatures didn’t jump much past 60 today. Tomorrow will be better.

September 23, 2004

Highway 6 through the mountains and up over Soldier Summit (7554’) is a nice drive. Aspen and sage brush seems to be the predominant species and it was particularly beautiful at the higher elevation given the colorful turning of the leaves. It was cold again this morning but had hit 50 by the time we entered Price.

Goblin Valley State Park is off a little used road which dissects from Hwy. 24 north of Hanksville. This is truly out in the middle of nowhere. As we headed down the highway encountering a hill climb, we were passed by a motorhome. As it turned out, the motorhome was headed in the same direction, arriving at the park gates just in front of us. A mad search for an available camp site ensued, with the motorhome taking the only one left that didn’t have a reservation sticker on it. Amidst Marc’s grumblings that we should have had that spot since we were originally first on the road before being passed by the motorhome, (how’s that for logic!) we decided to try boondocking off the state park’s property, which is all BLM.

With a little investigation down a couple of dirt roads, we found the perfect place all to ourselves on the edge of a precipice above a wash. Our view is expansive—a hundred miles probably—and we must be at least five miles from the campground and the nearest people. It is dead silent here with the exception of the wind and an occasional car far off in the distance heading down the little road to the park.

Nicely settled in, we want for nothing. We’re in our favorite area, the wilds of southern Utah, without another soul in sight and left to our own devices. Dirt roads for riding and hiking hills and canyons beckon in every direction.

 The slot canyon hike

Immediately through the wash starts a hillside of slickrock. We started hiking the gulch and found a slot canyon so decided to see where it led. We spent an hour hiking the canyon and never did find its end, only more and more intriguing branches to try on another day. It was a marvelous hike and yielded some great photo opportunities of unusual features. The first photo shows the slot right behind the bush as it appears from the hill of slickrock.

The beautiful Reds Canyon ride

One of the best things about Utah is the great off road riding. Rarely will you find even a remote comparison in other states. Today’s ride takes us on Temple Mountain Road behind the San Rafael Swell. With numerous loops, cut-offs, and just general trails, it’s a hard decision to even determine which to take. Fortuitously, we end up on Reds Canyon Road which drops us from flatter, rolling grassland and pinion pines through a descending corridor of multi-color rock walls. At one point I feel like I’m dropping into the Grand Canyon. Soon, the road peters out to join the wash, headlong to its valley descent.

Another fork in the road and I decide I’ve had enough of negotiating the wash, let’s try the right fork which seems to climb and disappear into a box canyon. Sure enough, it is a box canyon, but filled with the remnants of an old mining community! Serendipity strikes again. We dismount and explore. High up on the back wall of the box canyon is a beckoning mine shaft. Twenty minutes later, after an arduous climb/hike up the steep wash, we arrive at the entrance to the shaft. Marc, ever the intrepid, decides to take a closer look. He’s soon back out however, as the mine stinks overwhelmingly of sulfur. It’s just as well since nothing is braced. Heading for home at this point will add another 30 miles so we reluctantly make this our turn around point.