Why I hate traveling (Part One)

This could also be called "Why I LOVE traveling-- My Sandpaper Teachers"  or  ONE THOUSAND MILES of Lessons:  I've certainly had some miserable experiences fabulous opportunities for putting the Dharma into real Practice driving from ABQ to Boise to rescue my "brother."  You'll hear more about the rescue mission in Part Deux.  Just 20 miles out of ABQ  (Bernalillo exit on I-25 North) a car in the far left lane decided to exit right.  He crossed all the lanes directly in front of my five ton RV van. He cut in so close I swerved and had there been a car next to me it would have been a nasty crash, very nasty as in I probably would have rolled the van. Even so, the sudden jolt sent most of my belongings crashing down out of cabinets and bags into one giant mess in the middle of my van.  Nice start, eh? Yes, but grateful that Izzi and I survived. It seemed like a bad omen.  It was!  And, just the beginning of a series of  unfortunate events, as Lemony Snicket would call them.   

There was the elderly curmudgeon at Bloomfield (NM) who was shaking his stick and telling me I couldn't park at the Carson National forest ranger station.  Maybe because this "way mark " made it a sought after stopping point?  That's my van peeking out behind the tree. Great spot, actually. I felt safe there. 

I stopped at a little park in Monticello, Utah for a late lunch. The place was empty when I parked.  But soon a hoard of skate boarders arrived.  Izzi cannot stand kids on bikes or skate boards because some little neighborhood rug rats teased her when she was a pup.  So now she barks her head off at the sight of them. She was soon drowned out, though, by the noise from the guy who just had to fire up the massive riding mower in the heat of the afternoon. Yep, people are my teachers.  Ahhhh.  We left.  

  

Cosmic Connie asked about Moab. It was always one of my favorite places.  I mean look at this naturally occurring mammoth stupa as you approach.  The rock formations are honestly out of this world, but in their quest to live near these spectacular places (like Sedona and now Moab) people have yet again ruined the very places that inspired them to move there. Now instead of the awesome natural landscape you see man-made megalithic monstrosities that made me want to cry. All the beauty blocked, triple-wide blacktop expansion and asphalt work in the 100 degree heat, traffic jams and exhaust fumes. In a word, it was awful. I didn't even stop.   

The little Shady Acres RV park in Green River was my oasis. Cool, after a brief rain storm, breezy, and the nicest shower facilities I've found on the road. A welcome respite from the road wars.  

But trouble was determined to find me the next day in the form of a "critter" that got in my engine (or vent system?) I heard the irregular scratching of little claws. Pack rat? Moab lizard?  I was totally freaked out thinking it might pop out by my feet near the gas pedal.  But then the smell of singed fur and the scratching stopped. But that was nothing compared to what transpired between Price, Utah and Soldier Summit.  I had forgotten why I used to take the long route from Green River through Salina and Nephi, rather than Price. This trip reminded me. It took three and half hours to make the 60 mile stretch of Highway 191 that involves the 7800 ft Soldier Summit pass. It might look benign in that web cam view, but not on the day I drove through. Just before reaching the actual summit, on one of the winding, narrow mountain curves, a cattle truck had collided with a semi.  This is a sight you never want to see and one that I will never forget. I'll spare you the details, but as I've told my friends, I became an instant vegetarian.  

I barely had time to catch my breath after that fiasco, and then found myself in the sprawl that is the Salt Lake City metropolis. It begins around Provo and continues all the way through the I-15 corridor into Brigham City and Logan. That was was a solid six hour white-knuckle run getting through the mountain mess then the metro mess. No lunch and only one quick gas up and K9 and human bio break. Not a fun day of traveling, IMHO. I finally collapsed in the parking lot of a country diner near Tremonton. The scenery was gorgeous, and most importantly, it was QUIET!  

  

My Twin Falls experience wasn't any better. I didn't make a camping reservation for Sunday night hoping I could find a cheap motel, take a real shower and sleep on a real bed. But, the thought of bed bugs came to mind when I actually saw the "cheap" motels. To avoid that and stay in a nice, dog-friendly place would have cost around $150 for one night. No thanks. So after wasting 90 minutes of tedious town driving, I ended up back on the freeway and found the "Bates Motel" of RV parks-- a wacky place in Wendell, Idaho. This place featured a coin-operated shower, that required a super secret system to enter. If you didn't find the hidden code on the hand-out sheet you would not get a shower. It looks much nicer in this pic than it was thanks to the fun fountain. The park smelled weird, like it might be on a EPA chemical clean-up site. (Turns out that was the forest fires nearby.) Bye bye Bates family (I was writing all this the morning of Aug 13 at their park using my WiFi and their power.)  Next update: the Boise / Riverside info.