The first line on the first page of the Driver's Guide to Driving Across this Ridiculously Large Country We Live In is probably, "Be sure to plan ahead." Which I thought I did, by getting my brakes checked. And, so far so good on that note. But, sleeping has been a bit more of an issue. Once again, the Civic is a great car for everything but.
The second line is probably something like "Allow extra time to...to do everything."
(And somewhere in there there is probably a line about not mooching great writing ideas off of John McPhee, but I am feeling spiteful right now due to the scratched nature of my third book on CD, his "The Founding Fish." It's about shad, okay?)
My intended departure time was early Tuesday morning. And despite what you all know about me and my sleeping habits, when I said early I meant early, like 7 am. I did allow enough time in the final days before for blogging, final Facebook checking, drinking with the cohorting coworkers, 9 holes of frolf with the goats and goat-like naturalists, buying a new guitar case and eating one last boring meal at the brewery, and lots of other good stuff. I managed to have a few beers and a couple of attempts at redeeming the men's team in euchre (both lost, which I would like to blame Millipede for, but really it was a team effort) as well beforehand. I did get some packing and cleaning done. On Monday evening I decided to leave the final hour of packing and cleaning for Tuesday morning, and reasonably pushed the departure time back to 8 am.
I managed to wake up Tuesday morning at 8 am, and after breakfast, goodbyes, and a final hour of packing and cleaning that stretched into about 3 hours, I was on the road by early afternoon. Aiming to get to a campground near Elko, NV.
In hindsight, I probably should have left earlier. By the time I reached the exit on I-80 where I knew the campsite to be located, I had had three Rockstars and way too much Subway, and I was amped up on my first book on tape, The Diamond Age, by Neal Stephenson. And the thing about me and books, is, well, once I am reading I don't really like to stop until I am passing out. Which I managed to widely avoid by grace of the rest area gods and their choice of placement of a quaint rest stop somewhere along the lonely state route 93 in the NE corner of NV, just south of the ID line (and well past my planned stopping point near Elko). A real nice place to wake up to see the sunrise - middle of the desert, next to a river. Or at least I imagine it would have been. I crashed for an hour, waking up every ten minutes or so to experiment with a new attempt at comfort in the front seat of the Civic. Damn it, this is just what I swore I wouldn't do this time around.
So the first night I slept in rest stops. One in NV, one in ID a few hours later. Sunrise...
...somewhere just short of Massacre Rocks State Park in Idaho, a place I had researched ahead of time as a possible campground if I made it that far on my first day of driving, or intelligently split the drive to Idaho into two days. I didn't stop at Massacre Rocks. I wish I had.A list of things to do differently on Day 1, next time I drive from the Santa Cruz mountains to Maryland (or, really, so far, to Remington, Indiana. Don't ask.):
- pack early, leave the night before
- stay with Shawn and Emma in Oakland on a work night for early departure and hometown inspiration
- stay at the campground as planned
- Stop to take pictures of that crazy house on the south side of I80 in NV.
- Or drive across NV 50 instead of 80, cause it sounds cool
- Based on above, camp in Great Basin
- drive through NE NV during the day time to fully appreciate the desert
- Scratch that last one. Drive through all desert areas at sunrise of sunset only, taking photos the whole way
- Travel in larger vehicle. Ideally, synchro Vanagon Westfalia or Dodge Sprinter camper
Day Two
Abbey was spending as much time staring out the window, shedding, and sleeping as I was listening to Neal Stephenson. She also was managing quite nicely to pee quickly every time I let her out of the car. At gas stations, at rest areas. A good travelling companion. Calm in the car. Not prone to howling. Only once every thousand miles or so did she try to crawl out of her cave in the back, onto the front seats and into my lap. Which I generally discouraged.
When we finally were up and on the road on "day two" of the trip, my intention was to aim for the National Forests and associated campgrounds south of Grand Tetons National Park. This meant a few hours of freeway and a lot of wandering mountain roads. We had driven through Twin Falls, ID, in the blur that was the early morning driving, between rest areas. Really, we skirted it, driving around the actual city on border roads. I was not awake enough at the time to take a break from Stephenson to put on Built to Spill, or for that matter Josh Ritter, though I am not sure he is from Twin Falls, only somewhere in Idaho. I had been to Idaho once before, actually Mountain Home, but that was more westerly than we were ever going to be on this trip. I did think a bit about how the last time I had driven up this way there was a lot more desert between CA and ID, and I realized there might be some merit to by strategy of driving at night.
We passed through Pocatello, ID, and I wondered why this place sounded so familiar until later I recalled that Jack Black (the hobo turned librarian, not the actor) had spent many a day there visiting Salt Chunk Mary and exchanging pilfered goods for cash. This was to be the first of an old west theme that is hard to avoid when driving through Idaho, Wyoming, and South Dakota. I managed to later pass Wild Bill dam, WY, and Deadwood, SD, and I almost bought a Stetson and the biography of Seth Bullock at Wall Drug. Last night, I camped in Garretson, SD, apparently a place where Jesse James occasionally ran from posses.
On the way into Grand Tetons, I discovered a few things. There is yet another form of the picnic robbing jay that I know as the Stellar's Jay on the west coast (blue and black, with a mohawk, annoying) and the Grey Jay on the east coast (grey, also annoying). I think, anyway. I saw one, but didn't get a photo. It was black and white, about the same size as a Stellar's Jay, and though brave it wasn't really as annoying. I could be wrong. Could this have been a shrike? I thought they were smaller. This was at Palisades Dam, on the Idaho side of the ID/WY border on the snake river. I stopped at the dam because, well, it was big, and it was on the Snake River, and I was hoping there was a fish ladder there that I could take pictures of salmon in. There wasn't, as far as I could tell. I didn't really get too near the dam though. There was barely anyone there, so I let Abbey off the leash for a bit. She immediately took a shit, and we were both happy about that. Though I missed out on taking pictures of fish and that jay-like black and white bird, I did get some of my first (don't laugh now) non-brown pelicans. White pelicans, I think they are called.
Just before leaving the dam, I realized it would be a good idea to look at the map. I did, and then realized I had made a semi-wrong turn. Or missed a turn, really. I would still make it to the park, but I was neglecting a scenic route. I turned around a headed back the way I had come. It seemed only appropriate to make sure I entered Grand Teton National Park by climbing up and over Teton Pass. Which I am proud to say the Civic managed all 8, 431 ft of (though I am sure not all at once), only slowing to about 25 mph in second gear (fully loaded, though I am glad I sold the kayak before leaving CA) on the steepest parts.At the top of the pass, I pulled over to let the guy in the VW Passat wagon with a picnic table tied to his roof pass me, to let Abbey pee (higher than she had ever peed before!) and to take a picture of the first of much western cheese
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