Salt Lake
Our route north was in two of the long flat valleys of the Great Basin, miles and miles with the mountains on either side going up in a smooth swoop, and nothing in sight ahead. There are a few salt flats, but mostly these valleys are dry sagebrush. We cut east across a couple of valleys, and then over a rise, the Bonneville Salt flats.
White, white, flat flat, the air a little pale with wind-carried salt. At the edges, red raggedy rocks, dangerously sharp and not of this planet. Still some distant snow covered ranges, but once we are out on I-80 in the middle of it, only a faint blueness. 60 miles of sensory deprivation, and mirages of water, the red rocks become islands, the road looks as though a big puddle is ahead, and even Don’s trailer gets wavy and indistinct. Out here they race things, sometimes each other, sometimes just the clock. It is strange enough on the highway with other vehicles and the RR tracks on the right, I can’t imagine what it would be like to sit in a rocket powered car trying to set the land speed record. Not a tree or a light pole to hang your eyes on, nothing but white, and a black line to steer by, as though you out ran your sight. I wonder if they see mirages.
Occasionally there is standing water, pale green, and nothing growing at all. It smells salty like the sea, but with no rotting flora and fauna smell, it is clearly not the ocean we smell, just pure salt. They scrape up this salt, refine it and on the table it goes, although the majority of it was used in silver refining.
The Great Salt Lake is indeed great, big enough for sailing boats and salty enough to float you high. After the mirage lakes of the salt flats, it was a little hard to believe my eyes. The grand Wasatch Mountains surround the south east and eastern end of the lake, massive and snowy, and Brigham Young’s city sits there, protected from the north winds, and green as the mountains catch moisture coming from the lake. There are many green fields of alfalfa, and cattle once we get beyond the city up the east side of the lake.
I sort of imagine that the first Mormans must have thought this was their own promised land, and it is an amazing place. We just zoomed on through, not much for city tourism. It was a long day and we are taking a layover in Garland, where the mountains have run out and it is very green pasture land. We are also looking at some cold and wet weather that will be coming in to the north of us, and trying to decide what to do.
We have had perfect weather for the whole trip, but now rain and cold and snow are predicted for Jackson WY and Yellowstone. We had planned to stay in Jackson, so I could finally see the Tetons, then go up and stay in Yellowstone for a few days. As the National Forest CG in Jackson isn’t open yet, we were stuck with $50 a night parking lots. They probably wouldn’t let me park the Airstream out of the way for free either, a trick we have managed to do almost everywhere. Then we thought about Yellowstone in the rain and snow decided to head for the Idaho side, West Yellowstone area. We then could take the last nice day in Yellowstone and bag the rest of it.
So we came up the Snake River Valley into Idaho, through the naked potato fields, and hay fields with lots of sweeps for irrigation. The mountains were pale and snow covered, and very far off. Above Rexburg, we were suddenly climbing into real mountains, with snow hiding under the lodge pole pines, Snowy peaks on all sides. To the East, the Tetons poke up over the ridges, impossible vertical peaks, so steep and rocky the snow is blown off. Someday, I’ll get to see them, watch the sun come up on them with the lake at their feet.
More snow in the open areas and hiding in the pines, and at the campground in Island Park, the bathhouse is drifted shut, and many sites still are snow bound. We have been sort of chasing spring as we go north, and right now, I think we went a little too fast.
White, white, flat flat, the air a little pale with wind-carried salt. At the edges, red raggedy rocks, dangerously sharp and not of this planet. Still some distant snow covered ranges, but once we are out on I-80 in the middle of it, only a faint blueness. 60 miles of sensory deprivation, and mirages of water, the red rocks become islands, the road looks as though a big puddle is ahead, and even Don’s trailer gets wavy and indistinct. Out here they race things, sometimes each other, sometimes just the clock. It is strange enough on the highway with other vehicles and the RR tracks on the right, I can’t imagine what it would be like to sit in a rocket powered car trying to set the land speed record. Not a tree or a light pole to hang your eyes on, nothing but white, and a black line to steer by, as though you out ran your sight. I wonder if they see mirages.
Occasionally there is standing water, pale green, and nothing growing at all. It smells salty like the sea, but with no rotting flora and fauna smell, it is clearly not the ocean we smell, just pure salt. They scrape up this salt, refine it and on the table it goes, although the majority of it was used in silver refining.
The Great Salt Lake is indeed great, big enough for sailing boats and salty enough to float you high. After the mirage lakes of the salt flats, it was a little hard to believe my eyes. The grand Wasatch Mountains surround the south east and eastern end of the lake, massive and snowy, and Brigham Young’s city sits there, protected from the north winds, and green as the mountains catch moisture coming from the lake. There are many green fields of alfalfa, and cattle once we get beyond the city up the east side of the lake.
I sort of imagine that the first Mormans must have thought this was their own promised land, and it is an amazing place. We just zoomed on through, not much for city tourism. It was a long day and we are taking a layover in Garland, where the mountains have run out and it is very green pasture land. We are also looking at some cold and wet weather that will be coming in to the north of us, and trying to decide what to do.
We have had perfect weather for the whole trip, but now rain and cold and snow are predicted for Jackson WY and Yellowstone. We had planned to stay in Jackson, so I could finally see the Tetons, then go up and stay in Yellowstone for a few days. As the National Forest CG in Jackson isn’t open yet, we were stuck with $50 a night parking lots. They probably wouldn’t let me park the Airstream out of the way for free either, a trick we have managed to do almost everywhere. Then we thought about Yellowstone in the rain and snow decided to head for the Idaho side, West Yellowstone area. We then could take the last nice day in Yellowstone and bag the rest of it.
So we came up the Snake River Valley into Idaho, through the naked potato fields, and hay fields with lots of sweeps for irrigation. The mountains were pale and snow covered, and very far off. Above Rexburg, we were suddenly climbing into real mountains, with snow hiding under the lodge pole pines, Snowy peaks on all sides. To the East, the Tetons poke up over the ridges, impossible vertical peaks, so steep and rocky the snow is blown off. Someday, I’ll get to see them, watch the sun come up on them with the lake at their feet.
More snow in the open areas and hiding in the pines, and at the campground in Island Park, the bathhouse is drifted shut, and many sites still are snow bound. We have been sort of chasing spring as we go north, and right now, I think we went a little too fast.
posted by Thistledown24 at 5:02 PM
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