Author: alohawild

This will be a short blog, as I am tired, and while it is not that late, it feels late because I drove for over four hours to get here at Ruby’s Inn in Bryce Canyon City, a few miles from the park by the same name. It was a lovely drive, especially the few miles descending from 7777 feet, then Red Canyon on the scenic Byway 12.

We rose early, and Deborah packed and then headed off to her sessions, and I made coffee in the room (one for Deborah earlier) and wrote the blog. I invested most of the morning writing and doing the usual things, including paying for my health insurance premium for another month, for over $1,100.

Next, I doom scrolled, and the 1929 book did come to mind. The stock market face-planted into correction territory after it stopped listening to the President’s promise that the war is over (just like the Wall Street Bankers in 1929, I just read about who kept saying the crash was just a temporary misunderstanding). And with Mr. Trump’s pressure to lower interest rates, there is nowhere to put your money for any good return for reasonable risk. I will be glad for my first Social Security check in May. I cannot pull anything from my IRA in this kind of market. Time to buckle up and ride it out.

I am traveling on Thursday. I was happy to hear that President Trump finally agreed to pay the TSA workers. He could have done that for the last two weeks. I am not making a political statement here; he really could have done that all along.

Next, I wrote a nice story of our last full day in Salt Lake City, and had some of the pizza from last night for breakfast while I worked on it. Deborah also brought me some of her breakfast, and that was lovely: jam on a biscuit, bacon, and a potato. I wrote some more, packed, and soon published. I showered and finished packing. I then wheeled the heavy bags to the car. I was thinking I should move it closer as it was a long path in the parking garage, but no, I thought I should only make this trip one more time.  I then returned, and Deborah was between sessions. She had some books she received, and I hauled the books and my gym bag with my computer to the car, and again I thought I should move it. But then thought, no, that should be the last trip.

Deborah was back to her sessions, and I walked down to the Tabernacle at Temple Square for the noon recital. There were about a hundred of us (at least one school bus load of young folk). The sound was incredible as the building was built in the 1800s, before microphones, and someone projecting their voice could be heard everywhere. The pipe organ was loud but not brutally so, not even shaking the floor. The delicate notes were clear. The recital lasted thirty minutes and was a tour of the organ’s sound and capabilities, as well as the room. I enjoyed “Were You There?” and a modern atonal piece that showcased the player’s ability to coax new sounds from the organ and the room. After the playing, the organist, a young man, met folks; he seemed to love his job.

With that done, I walked back to the room and met Deborah there. Next, I put on her backpack and walked it down to the car again, thinking I should have moved the car, but it did not matter. This was the last thing.

Deborah checked us out of the hotel, and then we waited for the drawing, and sadly, Deborah did not win. We then walked one last time down to the car and got in, and I commented on how long that walk was and that I should have moved the car closer three times ago. Deborah just laughed at me.

We picked up sandwiches before we left, and I then drove us out of SLC and headed south. Deborah, starving, finally ate her sandwich when traffic was not chaotic, and later we stopped at Wendy’s to get me a coffee. I was getting tired after two hours, and ate our sandwiches then.

The drive, now on Highway 15 most of the way, and in Western Utah, was different rocks, mountains, and passes, and the coffee helped. The amount of open territory was even greater than during our previous desolate drive on Highway 6. Wow! We found two rest areas on the whole four-hour drive! This is not Oregon or Michigan, with their thirty-mile-or-so distance between rest areas. The last Starbucks is in Spanish Fork again (I was sure there had to be one on 15, but none after Spanish Fork).

After a long stretch of nothing, we reached Beaver, Utah, and there was a Flying J with everything you might need, plus various fast-food and sit-down places. We used the facilities and took some silly photos. It was a perfect break.

The drive was not stressful, but there was more traffic than last time, and a different route with fewer sudden curves, but some amazing views and more altitude. We left in the afternoon, and I was pretty tired when we finally found Ruby’s Inn.

The place was a madhouse, and parking was filled with folks going everywhere, walking or in cars. We got checked in and found our room to be comfortable, if not a bit plain. We got our bags to the room and soon headed back out for an expensive dinner at the hotel (when we were in the General Store, we saw folks grabbing frozen dinners to microwave in their rooms; not a bad plan). Instead, we had steaks and drinks. Our waiter, Isaac, had been working there for seven years and is part of the family that owns the inn. He helped us with the menu and was friendly. He gave us some advice on Capital Reef National Park. We think we want to stop there on the way back to SLC to break up the trip.

We were tired and found a Lonely Planet book on Utah’s National Parks in the General Store, which is helping us plan a half-day visit to Bryce. We are not planning to hike, but just to enjoy the simple things (though we can do a short hike we discovered in Arches).

And with that, I think I can stop here in our room.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

This is the Thursday blog written on Friday morning. Yesterday I called it Thursday when it was Wednesday. Sorry!

At the end of the night, I was at Soundwell: Studio bar across from the hotel, with a DJ spinning original vinyl records from the 1960s. The turntables, some old-school-sounding amps (I did not see any tubes), and his care made the records sound perfect. I had not heard before, that I remember, Lee Morgan’s The Sidewinder from 1964. It was wonderful, and hearing it made my night (here is a version). I thanked the DJ, who told me that this music was the first Jazz to make the charts in the USA.

The chef made a wonderful, slightly spicy but subtle Vodka Sauce to go with the garlic bread (freshly baked in a pull-apart form filled with cheese. I told him that it was the best version I had had and better than my version (which is pretty good, but a bright sauce). He explained it was the recipe from their executive chef, and he loved making it. The chef explained it has only four ingredients and is all technique, but the secret he shared is baking it in the pizza oven (600ºF/315ºC). “That is what makes the difference,” he told me. Later, he would send me a complimentary dessert of baked bread with a sweet sauce.  Excellent.

Later, I would get a pizza and have a few slices with plans to have it for lunch too. The director of the bar made me an excellent Olf Fashioned, the other bartender who tookover on a slow night, told me that they (pronoun unknown) did not make whiskey drinks, but they tried (It was the first drink I ever sent back), and then they made me a decent Old Fashioned. I was reading my new book on Absinthe, Absinthe Forger by Evan Rail, and they made my drinks with special whiskey.

At the end of the night, the bill was high, the food was reasonable, but the drinks, no surprise in SLC, were expensive. I paid the high bill with a tip. I also gave the DJ, who was in a tip jar, a $5 tip. It was an educational night. I met, without planning, Deborah and her co-worker in the hotel lobby. We chatted and then said goodnight. Next, I tried to fit the pizza in the fridge (the slices ended up stacked there) and found my PJs and soon fell asleep.

Starting Thursday morning, we woke early and watched the sky turn from dark to gray to bright blue. Today would be in the 70ºFs (20ºCs). Deborah dresses and heads off to her sessions. I write the blog for a few hours in the morning. I shower and all that, but forget to remove the Do-not-disturb sign when I head out (but Deborah got us towels and coffee, and, to our surprise, the hotel staff cleaned the room later).

Today I would use the car and try to reach some new places in SLC. I found the car where I left it (using the convention center elevators to reach the parking garage level P2. I used the room key to leave the garage, and the valet folks had told me it was a daily charge and that I could come and go without extra charges. Fingers crossed!

My first stop was the King’s English book store that Dondrea had recommended. It is an amazing place; a house, they explained, that was slowly turned into the eclectic storefront with tiny rooms and steps and ramps here and there. It is, unlike many in Portland, only new books, but the collection is wonderfully complete, and I found books there that I had known about and got a wonderful book on Absinthe that I already mentioned (already on chapter 4), and a few knick-knacks. I felt that the bookstore was curated to have complete sections and not a pile of picked-over books you find in many branded stores. I thanked the staff for their excellent collection.

Next, driving to the other side of SLC (this would become a theme as I would retrace some routes four times), I arrived at Hastur’s Games (H*****r is part of the Lovecraft Mythos and is known as “He with the Unspeakable Name”). It is a clean and well-organized gaming store, but prices are disclosed at the check-out. Hmmm. There, I found many of the add-ons for Arkham Horror: The Card Game for sale, which I received for Christmas, and the game is out of print as it heads toward a second version, which reportedly will not align with the first version (I have yet to play it, but I am quite happy with this version). I was tempted to get the large add-on (as this is hard to find), but instead, thinking of my luggage, picked a $14 additional story. They also had a cheap figure (unpainted) for more than 30% off. If I were here for any length of time, I would definitely try the store out; there are plenty of tables to play on (though each is marked with the Unspeakable Name and the Yellow Symbol). An insanely nice store!

I waited twenty minutes for lunch at the legendary Red Iguana Mexican-style restaurant. The salsa was spiced but did not have the cheap burn of many and was light on the tomatoes. My meal was mole, with too much food to dip in the cosmically good stuff (I did eat it all, having skipped breakfast). The mole was a chocolate savory sauce with ground, toasted seeds. Dreamy and again not slap-you spice. Wow!

Fed, I headed to get gas for the Hyundai as we have a four-hour trip back to the south of Utah on Friday. The Sinclair (the one with the dinosaur) offered $4.29 a gallon, and I was below half a tank. I performed the unfamiliar ritual (Oregon is an optional full-service at the same price as self-service, and I now drive an EV) and payment. I could not resist getting DINOCARE with all the Jurassic stuff we saw. We are set for Friday’s drive now.

Next, retracing, I headed to Utah’s Fine Art Museum, which had a tiny collection intermixed with modern pieces. There were no masterpieces there, which surprised me (no Monet or other French Impressionists). But the staff had an interesting write-up for the art they did have. One described how the item, a wooden warrior shield from Africa, had been collected by a German, purchased by a museum, traded for another item from another collector, later purchased from the art collector in a private sale, and then donated to the museum. I saw only one item I thought remarkable, a 1600s Japanese sword from the Yamato area.

Deborah asked for some yogurt by text, and I found Smith’s Grocery (now owned by Kroger) and used its down escalator to reach the produce and dairy area (I did not see how carts get back up). I found the requested product, took the escalator, checked out manually (the only option I saw), and discovered my discount card worked here too. Again, I saw folks silently restocking who were obviously not native born Americans. Hmmm.

(yes, 42)

I return to the hotel, bring Deborah her food, and we spend some time together, sharing about our day.

And that takes me full circle as Deborah has a vendor dinner and I started looking for music, drink, and a snack.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

(Was mistakenly called Thursday)

After two expensive but excellent drinks and listening to Jazz (plus a snack), I returned to the hotel at about 10. I soon fell asleep and woke a few times, and seemed to be coughing often. I am enjoying Salt Lake City (SLC).

Before this, I was in the hotel room (Deborah left earlier for some conference meetings and dinner). I ate the other half of her lunch (it was huge) while I booked hotels, flights, and cars for my trips in April and in August. I booked the NYC trip for the 2600 Magazine’s Hope 26 Hacker Conference, including direct flights to JFK (comfort class, as that is a long flight). I used Delta to book the hotel, The New Yorker, to get the extra miles. According to the hotel staff I spoke with, there is no way to connect the reservations, and I may have to change rooms. I have the April trip almost done. I need a hotel in St. Louis, but I have a car there and flights. I got all this in TripIt, my favorite travel app, and this lets me visualize the trip. I checked that I had not missed any hotel nights (it is easy to miss a night between stays). All the reservations can be changed (increasing the airflights by $100) or canceled. I use Costco Travel for the cars, as it seems to offer an excellent deal with the usual rental companies.

Moving back in the day, before this, Deborah and I met in the room between her sessions and meetings. Later, I headed to the hotel pool on the sixth floor, and on the roof there. The sun glare was hot, and Deborah strongly suggested sunscreen today. I spent an hour walking back and forth in the slightly cool waters. There were no children, and most folks were in chairs getting some rays by the pool. I spoke to a few folks who were sliding in an hour of pool before the dinner and meetings.

While walking in the pool, I was working out a new Dungeons & Dragons adventure based on our experience in Arches and Moab, and trying to invent something that fits the stones and petroglyphs and was new. It was fun to do that again and just enjoy the pool. When I got out, I was cold as a light wind joined with the setting sun made me shiver. Surprisingly, in 80°F+ temperatures.

Before all of this, I was at the FamilySearch center (an online service), now a building across from Temple Square. Before I headed there, I prepared by logging in to my Ancestry.com account and collecting information about my 2nd great-grandfather, Wilhelm G. Wild (born 1850). I wrote it in Deborah’s little notebook she received from the conference, but was not using. I then walked the three blocks to the center. There, I was directed to the first basement floor. Next, I was sent to one of the hundreds of browser-based workstations with two screens, a keyboard, and a mouse. Some had microfilm readers. I was expecting a library with stacks and files of photos, but instead it looked like a very quiet Internet Cafe without the coffee or food. Debby, an older woman with a name tag and a shirt with the FamilySearch logo, helped me create a free account on FamilySearch (but I did not check the option to be visited by an LDS person or to provide my home address). I learned that these free records include European information (an extra fee on Ancestry.com, previously, but maybe that has changed). Wilhelm’s christening information was included in their records, something I have never seen before.

Debby tried to help. I was searching for a photograph, but she admitted she was new to this, and another person, Richard, an elderly man, came to help me next (he was level 2, if you like). He ran a few more online searches, though, and seemed impressed that I had covered everything they had (their records included the photo I took of Wilhelm’s grave, which I put in the public space). He then had me write the information on a piece of paper and then carried it up to another floor to see if they had any other photos of Wilhelm. None, but Richard and I were happy that I had found that my research was really complete and that I had everything they had, except for some stuff in Germany. Excellent.

It was an interesting couple of hours, and Debby and Richard were helpful, and I can trace a few more steps into Germany. I thought the search function at FamilySearch was not as good as Ancestry.com’s, and some of their scanned records had been compressed to the point of being unreadable. Their text scan produced endless matches with no means to control it. It was fascinating from a genealogical and computer-science perspective. A generative search, like ChatGPT, would provide answers, but without a trace path, it would be hard to know what is real and generative (or hallucination, as it is called now). A usual search would be slow and error-prone. You need tagging, which users provide by assembling family trees in the software and adding information, like photos, to memories attached to the trees and to the person records in their information. Thus, FamilySearch will get better (and that is why it is free now).

I spoke to Dondrea on the phone, who said I should see the Tabernacle (across the street from FamilySearch). I also spoke to Jeff, who is replacing the flooring at the house while I travel. The water damage he discovered did not spread into the boards that support the floor, and thus, the repairs and new flooring costs will be as expected. No structural repairs; excellent!

I found the entrance to the self-guided tour, sat in a pew, and looked. It is an amazing performance space. Some folks were taking photos, and they turned on all the dramatic lighting, and someone fiddled a few notes on the massive organ. It sounded lovely.

Moving the narrative earlier in the day, before stopping by the room and collecting information, I tried an Italian place (missing lunch with Deborah) for their $15 special, which turned into the $20 special. I had a stupidly huge plate of freshly made pasta in a meat sauce. It was good, but not great, and I could not eat that much; I decided not to take it back to the room. I noticed that the staff is two levels (here and other places), a front person with excellent English with a slight accent, and then silent staff who clear tables, cook, and do the work. Most do not know English, as I had trouble getting directions to the restrooms a few times. They looked a bit frightened to me when I noticed them. It is troubling to Deborah (who has witnessed the same thing) and me.

I will be driving into other parts of SLC tomorrow, and maybe this is just a characteristic of the high-end area. I did notice the same bifurcation in Park City, but did not focus on it. Hmmm.

Before this, we slept in, and I, being the plus one, tried to stay out of the way while Deborah got ready. I had written the blog the night before, and had no plans but to walk around SLC. I went to Toasters for breakfast, and they were good but slow (Deborah found them too slow for her tight schedule, and the food was huge—I ate the other half of her lunch for dinner). I then walked to Temple Square and found it partially under construction. I found a gate and walked in. It reminded me of some Presbyterian and Lutheran buildings, but was clearly connected to the LDS story.

I stopped by the official LDS bookstore, Deseret Books, just across from Temple Square. The staff pointed out that the art, books, and temple clothing were available. There was one painting of Jesus contemplating Jerusalem in the high-up at the Garden of Gethsemane, with a carefully crafted 2nd Temple and other sites below that impressed me (over $5K), but with the usual paint-by-numbers looking Jesus. There were many paintings in many styles (cubist but with a standard Jesus) and other versions of Jesus, but most were the usual reworked Italian Master’s look. Elsewhere in the store, they supplied clothing (including the required undergarments), and I found even belts and ties that appear to be approved for use. I am, being Methodist, used to seeing large sets of books on church founders in official stores (like Cokesbury), and Jonathan Smith was well represented; I mistook it at first for John Wesley’s writings (the books’ covers are the same colors). A unique bookstore.

My next stop, and the rest of the morning, was the newish Church History Museum. There are lots of proctors there to help you, tell you the story, and bring the historical objects to life. A short film about the moment when Jonathan Smith was called was quite persuasive and well-made. I like the quotes and might use one if I can find it again for my upcoming Sunday School class on Smith’s discomfort as a child with all the confusing versions of interpretations of the Bible.

(The original box with representative golden pages)

I saw the box that once held the golden tablets and the handwritten record of Smith’s translation of them. I like to see the sources. There was the Book of Mormon, as it was first spoken and recorded from the golden tablets.

I learned that the early LDS folks did not use cameras, and the only images of Smith and his brother are their death masks. They were killed by a mob. There were a few bits left of the hand-carved stone work from one of the first temples (destroyed in riots against the LDS). There are engravings and notes, but no photos.

The museum covers most of Smith’s history and then the founding of SLC by Brigham Young, and stops. Still interesting.

All interesting and the proctors were friendly, but they could only point out things there. I enjoyed seeing the artifacts of the early LSD church and the original founders.

Thanks for reading!

 

Today is going to be a less interesting blog as it is just travel, which was happily without events.

Deborah and I rose a bit slowly, showered, dressed, and then went to enjoy the busy, chaotic breakfast as families start their mornings in Moab. I also demonstrated how the coffee-making machine worked. Still, it was a good meal, and soon we packed up, checked out, and headed back to South Moab.

We drove south to what is called the Moab Man or the Golf petroglyphs. The art is again on a partially protected stone that seems to look down on a quiet space near a river. A golf course (thus the name) and connecting neighborhood have replaced the land, but there is still a feeling of holiness about the stones.

(That is Moab Man with the earrings, slightly damaged.)

With that done, we headed back North and out of Moab. We retraced our trip here and commented on things we remember now as we passed them. The Hyundai climbed to over 7400 feet on the trip back (SLC is about 4300). Near SLC, a truck swerved wildly, and then I did too as a large piece of tire was in the road. Yikes! It was about 4.5 hours to reach the Hyatt Regency SLC.

We saw some places in Price that we wanted to return to. We also would like to tour Nine Mile Canyon and Carbon Canyon someday. Some train sites and ghost towns are also a possibility.

We stopped for lunch in the first larger town, Spanish Fork, where there was a Starbucks and a Five Guys Burgers. I paid over $20 for a small cheeseburger, fries, and a regular Diet Coke. Hmmm. Should have gone to the cheaper (!?) Starbucks.

The valets held the Hyundai while Deborah checked in. She headed to the room while I experienced self-park. It is in an underground garage, and I found P2 and parked near the elevators like everyone else. I reached the hotel parking lot, but I did not have a pass for it. It was only for the valet. I had to carefully back out of the area.

The elevators, to my surprise, did not go to the hotel lobby but to the convention center. I found the hotel connection and found my way back. I then discovered another set of elevators in the hotel that did not go to guest rooms. Finally, I found the hotel elevators for the guest rooms. They only work with a room key (I had one): I waved it over the pad, then pressed the button, and soon I was on the tenth floor.

Deborah was there with our stuff, and we spent some time together, including unpacking and discovering the room. It has a nice view of SLC and the banking buildings. We are just a few blocks from the temple buildings, libraries, and museums.

Later, Deborah (she checked in right after we got here) went to the start of the conference meeting with a work colleague. I called the New Yorker Hotel in NYC to see if they could extend my reservation for a few more days. Nope, and they could not guarantee that I would not need to change rooms if I book a few more days on another reservation. Ugh! I decided to deal with it later.

I then headed out to see the City Creek mall and see if dinner was there for me. It was another high-end place with all the usual names. I was not surprised to find the Cheesecake Factory there. Nothing appealed to me.

I walked out and found a few high-end steak joints and pasta places. I then spotted the Ahh Shucks/Sushi Peanut Bar in the basement. I tried that. The bartender ignored me after a young clerk checked me in and scanned my driver’s license. Finally, I got a huge beer (in a giant margarita glass) for $5. free peanuts, and I was told, “You may not drop the shells on the floor; that used to be our things, but not anymore.” The sushi bar was the other half of the space, and the menu was a few burger choices, the usual fried stuff, or sushi. I ordered a Philadelphia roll (though I like it Portland style with smoked salmon in place of the tuna). It was good. My bill, after tip, was around $20. Not bad.

I found an Italian place that has a $15 lunch special to try tomorrow.

I returned to the room after that, stopping by Repeal, a Jazz Bar also underground, but decided that one cheap drink was enough, especially since it was massive (I did not finish it). I found the room without difficulty this time and started booking flights for my April trip to Michigan on my laptop. I also contacted Corwin to pick up some items delivered to the house. We talked about his dog challenges for a while. Hank can be a challenge.

I finished with most of my trip in place. Deborah had dinner and drinks at the conference.

And with that, we brought Tuesday to a close, and I wrote the blog while Deborah slept.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

We started Monday like Sunday, early, grabbed breakfast at the hotel, and then headed out to our most distant items, and then drove back. We slept a little better on Sunday night as we are both aligning to the time zone, and Sunday was a lot of hiking (for us); we were worn out.

With breakfast, complimentary from IHG, and though industrial, and now inside us, we drove south through Moab Downtown until Main Street returned to SR 191. Again, the geology kept us surprised and amazed. The layers of stone changed as we headed closer to Canyonlands and the southern border of Utah. There were no other towns (and one rest area). We drove by the tourist trap, Hole In The Rock, that my neighbor recommended (he was here a month ago), and we would take the tour on the way back.

We also stopped (both ways) at Wilson Arch, just off the highway. There is a little trail, but we decided not to risk it as it involved some rock climbing. We are not ready for that.

We drove to Newspaper Rock and found ourselves on cattle land, with warnings that the cows were open-range. No fences.

We finally reached Newspaper Rock after one more set of switchbacks with limited signs and no railing. The petroglyphs were what we came to see, but a river with cottonwoods added to the feeling that the place was holy. The silence, only now broken by visitors and traffic, was deep. We would see the same pattern for all the petroglyphs we would visit today.

You can see buffalo and riders shooting arrows at elk. There were a few odd figures that I believe I have seen described as “ancient astronauts” in various esoteric books (e.g., Chariots of the Gods and similar books). We spent some time just enjoying the area. It brought you peace and a connection to the people who made these drawings. The native people acquired horses from the Spanish in the 1500s, and thus, we know some of the drawings are from after that, as they show horses being ridden (just above our heads in the previous picture).

 

(You can see the different colors as we reconnect with SR 191.)

We enjoyed the trip back, relooking at all the geology, cows, and land; the sharp curve now put the cliffs attached to the other lane. It felt easier and safer. We had to avoid a tumbleweed in the road on the way back.

(That is the same rock structure in the previous picture — it is huge.)

We stopped at The Hole in the Rock to use the restrooms and to take the tour. The owner had blasted the rock with dynamite and then used a mule (stuffed by the owner and still there after passing away) to haul out the rubble. It was a lovely house and originally a food joint. There was a bell, and when it was sounded, everyone collected their plates and went outside. There was then a blast, and when the dust cleared, dinner was continued inside. Wow!

We enjoyed the tour of the 1950s-70s home built into the rock (left much like it was in the 70s), and I got some postcards and a Moab T-shirt (I liked their design). Next, we headed to the Moab Dinner in downtown Moab. We both had breakfast again for lunch. It was excellent, but tourist prices. Again, this is why I try to get breakfast included in the hotel room rate when I travel, even in Europe, Turkey, and Iceland. It is just sensible to save time and money.

We were then ready to try to head to the Birthing Scene Petroglyph along a gravel road by the Colorado River tributary. The roads got worse and worse, and the traffic was off-roading four-wheelers, motorbikes, and jeeps. The finished road was two to 1.5 lanes wide (plus potholes to avoid). Meaning you had to give way to oncoming traffic on wider sections.

That was as good as it got. Soon, we were in our mid-sized Hyundai Tuscan AWD SUV on loose gravel and a lane-and-a-fraction-wide road cut into a cliff. Sometimes just a lane. A mistake and the SUV would either roll and be crushed by the rocks (stopping the fall), or we would be smashed and then splashed into the river. Ugh! 15 mph (at best) for 5 miles with lots of jeeps and off-road vehicles having to share the road. Nothing I had read in the reviews mentioned that the road was narrow. Hmmm. Deborah was on the cliffside and did not enjoy the view. I blew the horn on blind curve spots (with a lane and a fraction and us on the cliff side), hoping not to do a head-on with a jeep or off-road vehicle.

 

We survived and found the location. We parked in a three-car-sided pullout (with a blessed extra space for two lanes too) and walked to the holy spot. It was another 35-degree walk, but nothing worse than the day before. The stone was covered with ancient drawings, and (when there were no cars) it was silent and still. The area felt connected to the land, sky, and something else again. There was no water, but the channel below (a sheer drop into lots of sharp rocks) would be full of water in the rain or during the melt. We spent some time taking it in (and for both of us to recover from a scary drive).

With the drive mostly downhill and traveling against the rock and not the cliff, it was not as scary (and we had done it once). We returned to Moab and looked for another site, but it was a hike over hot tar. Finally, we decided to try Poison Spider Trailhead for dinosaur tracks and a surprising amount of petroglyphs.

Headed another way on another road on the Colorado River (in good repair, two lanes, and paved), we saw a sign for petroglyphs and stopped. While on a busy road, it was once quiet, next to a river, and on tall rocks with some protection. Another holy feeling (despite the traffic) and the largest collection we have seen so far. The road builders you can see removed the rubble and sand in front of the cliff face. This makes the glyphs ten and twenty feet above the ground level now. But it is clear they were easy to reach before the road.

Some were hard to see because the contrast was lost on the stone due to some weathering. Still, it was hundreds of symbols, and the more you looked, the more you identified.

Our last set at the Poisoned Spider Trail Head was a disappointment because we had to use Zoom to see them. The path that led to them was about half a mile of climbing on rocks. We were not ready to do that. There, we saw from a distance dinosaur tracks and more petroglyphs. The tracks were from a bit of sandstone that fell, broke, and split, and exposed their secrets. Even from a distance, it was exciting to see. Real tracks! More petroglyphs! Info here for details on types of dinosaurs and so on.

With that done, I was tired, and we returned to the hotel, and I napped. Later, we would head to the Broken Oar for dinner. This is a rustic pine log building decorated with mostly broken oars from various white water adventures. Deborah had some salmon, and I had a pork chop, outlaw style, with some spice. This was our most expensive dinner in Moab, but it was excellent. Though I would not order dessert again, it was “outsourced,” said our waiter.

Somewhere on this day, I refueled the Hyandia (before the death-defying drive) at the Moab Exxon for $4.39; yikes! Mostly it is about $3.90 to 4.00 here. We return to Salt Lake City on Tuesday. I washed all the bug splashes on the windshield. We are happy with the SUV, though it can be sluggish (but I may be spoiled by my EV).

With dinner inside us, and short on steps, but happy with an excellent day, we returned to the hotel for one last night in Moab, though we believe we will return someday (we loved it). I wrote the blog now to allow us to return to SLC early.

Thanks for reading.