My New Favorite Motel Chain

LA/XC DAY SEVENTEEN:  ROCK SPRINGS, WYOMING

•  Today’s mileage:  399

•  Total LA/XC mileage:  5,034

•  Road Music:  ZZ Top; College football (Sooners beat Mizzou)

•  Today’s state tally:  3 (Nevada, Utah, Wyoming)

•  New states for Beagle Man:  0  (For a moment I was thinking Wyoming, but then I remembered western ski trips — and Jackson Hole.  Damn!)

You can bet when I found out that Rock Springs, Wyoming — my destination for tonight — had an America’s Best Value Inn & Suites (they’ve really got to do something about that name!), I was all over it.  Of course, this one doesn’t have a casino (Dorothy, we’re not in Nevada anymore), and the decor isn’t as southwestern spiffy as last night’s spot in Elko, but the Rock Springs edition comes through on all the doggy-critical scores.  Ricky and I are happy campers tonight.

So it turns out, on top of all my other complaints, Nevada has soft water.  Never understood the concept, but I do know that as I left the ABVI&S (how’s that?) in Elko, I couldn’t get the soap off my hands or the shampoo out of my hair.  And the Nevada scenery, as I continued to speed east on I-80 (remember, 75 mph speed limit :)), was arid and uninspiring.  I found I was much more favorably disposed towards Wyoming:  Always liked the name, and the fact that only 4 people live in the state — one of whom I happen to know  (That would be you, Professor Jim!)  But my first exposure to the state was a truck stop in Fort Bridger, where the clientele made the toothless guys in Deliverance (the movie) look like sensitive, urban metrosexuals.  A little scary.  But I really needed a coffee.

My drive today was an odd one, both in terms of terrain and humanity.  After the dry, numbing scenery of Nevada, I crossed the Utah state line, and almost immediately — whiteout!  Not snow — salt!  I had happened upon the Bonneville Salt Flats, and I thought I was hallucinating; couldn’t tell the difference between land, sky, and water.  Extremely disorienting.

Then, Salt Lake City and the Great Salt Lake, with sailboats on the surface and low-lying mountains in the background.  Another few miles, and I was on the doorstep of Park City and Deer Valley.  Stopped in a Subway for a late lunch, and poof!  The redneck women had turned into soccer moms.  Audi’s instead of pickups.  (Well, pickups, too — but the kind that pick up children and groceries.)  And then, right after I got used to being back in civilization . . . I had the Wyoming truck stop experience.  And the green grass and evergreens of Utah ski country gave way to those cement-colored, strange-looking flat-top mini-mountains (mesas) and those Stonehenge-like rock formations (buttes).  Weird day of travel.

The good news is that, once again arriving at our digs before dark, Ricky and I were socked in, comfy and cozy, ready to watch the USC game in the motel room.  The bad news is that they stunk up the field and were utterly embarrassed by Arizona State.  Spent half-time gobbling dinner at a nearby Applebee’s, but without Ricky

there to help me, I didn’t make any new friends this time.  Besides, the guys were all talking about trucks.

Crashed the 5,000-mile mark today.  Also found myself losing an hour when we switched to Mountain Time.  Forgot to anticipate it.  Hate when that happens.  I liked traveling in the other direction, continually gaining an hour instead of losing one.

Tomorrow’s itinerary:  On to Parker, Colorado (near Denver) for a reunion with my friend Lang’s daughter, Kristen.  She has two dogs and three cats.  Big day for my pardner.