Home again...

From Rockhound I went a short distance as planned up to City of Rocks, stayed a couple of days, and then moved on to Elephant Butte State Park, near Truth or Consequences.  I'd never been to Elephant Butte, although I'd driven past many times on I-25.

City of Rocks has lots of hiking/biking trails, and some truly unusual rock formations which give it the name. The most sought-after spots are up in among the rock formations.  I was content with that was available, which had the advantage of electric and water service. I made a new friend...

This little purple finch was fascinated by the passenger-side mirror, and spent a lot of time trying to make contact with his image in the mirror:

You may have to look carefully to see him plastered up against the glass. He was relentless! 

Elephant Butte Lake is big, and the state park is, I think, New Mexico's biggest.  It gets very heavy use in the summer as a boating location. 

I decided to go home to Tucson in one day, which is a longer drive than I usually plan. New Mexico in the spring is a windy place, and there were some white-knuckle moments along I-10 as I headed west.  I later learned that ADOT closed the road for a stretch, just behind me. Got back in pretty good time, all things considered.   

This was intended as much as anything as a shakedown cruise, and I've spent time since getting back dealing with some issues: I figured out what was wrong with the rear-view camera -- 

You get bonus points if you know what this little connector is called.  I spent hours on line trying to find it, and then gave up and did it the old-fashioned way: I went and asked the guys SoundFX here in Tucson what it was called.  They had one in stock. $4.  Bingo!

I also needed to replace the plastic shelf brackets in the little pantry area, which had been failing for a while, and this trip seems to have taken them over the top.  This is what they look like:

Found them at a web site I hadn't known about, but is now bookmarked because they have lots of handy stuff which I may need at some point: RV Locks and More.

Not sure when the next trip will be, but it will surely head north into the Idaho and Montana country I enjoyed so much last year.  Anyone ever visit Flathead Lake in MT?

Tuesday AM at Rockhound

Tuesday morning at Rockhound State Park.  Familiar and comfortable territory. Today is a leisurely drive up to City of Rocks, which was one of the first New Mexico state parks I visited, a couple of years back. Two nights there.  

It’s windy, which is to be expected in NM this time of year.  I’m glad it won’t be a long drive… keeping this very high-profile vehicle stable is tiring, mostly because it requires constant attention.  

Two new experiences this trip:  I now have DirectTv service at home, and since they’re owned by ATT, I get to watch TV on my cell phone without dinging my data allowance.  So after dinner, I watched Rachel Maddow — more because I could than because I felt a pressing need to stay in touch with the clown circus in Washington.  The ATT service here is pretty sketchy, so there were a few unscheduled pauses, but it wasn’t all that annoying. 

This morning I took a shower!  The edges of the tub enclosure had needed caulking, so last season I cleaned up the joints and got out the silicone. Showering isn’t a real option when boondocking… but here in “civilization” it’s a bit more reasonable.  I’ll drain the holding tanks on my way out of here. 

Something about watching TV and having a real hot shower in the Beast seems a bit surreal. 

So far this is a good shakedown. I’ll check in down the road, but briefly: I’m seeing how sparing I can be with the Verizon data service, and posting here requires logging on.  I can write off-line, and comments get relayed by email, so we’ll see how far I can stretch 4GB of data. 

Heading out ...

I hit the road for a week or so tomorrow (Monday) morning. Headed for familiar places in New Mexico... Rockhound State Park, City of Rocks SP, the BLM campground at Valley of Fires near Carrizozo. It's kind of a shakedown cruise for longer trips when the the weather stabilizes a bit up north.

Testing 1 2 3 4 ...

Is this thing still on?

Tap tap tap ...

Yep, seems to be.   Ok, then.

Seems hard to believe that it was last August that I last posted here.  Lots has happened, but not much has involved the Beast, and that was only some routine maintenance. There have been some health issues, and I'll admit freely that following the national election and the advent of the Trump administration have soaked up a lot of energy. I don't intend to write much about politics here, but I'm one of people who is appalled and fearful about the direction the government is taking us. Yeah, and embarrassed.  So if you're one of the people from outside the USA who's reading this, please understand that we're a big country with a lot of unsolved problems. Democracy is inherently messy, and this is a particularly messy moment.

So.  The Beast is currently in the shop, getting a systems check. When I get a list of the things the folks at Frost RV think need to be done, I'll have a better idea when I can get on the road again.

My destination, I think will be the desert over near Quartzite, AZ.  This is winter RV mecca for the whole dang country, and I've never been partial to parking cheek-by-jowl with a few hundred of my new best friends, so I've stayed away.  But the big crowds have moved on, I gather, and it's not crazy hot over there yet, so I'll go poke around while I wait for things to thaw out up north.

The only "upgrade" I've done to the Beast is get a small solar trickle charger for the starter battery.  It's hard to know whether it's really necessary, but it makes me feel all provident and green,  Because ... solar!'

More later.  You all OK?

Rich

Ka-Pow!!

This is/was the spare tire on the Beast.  It’s been sitting at the RV service place for a couple of days, waiting to get a short list of relatively minor stuff done.  Yesterday afternoon, the folks there tell me, they heard a very loud explosion which shook the building they were sitting in.  It wasn’t clear what it was.  This morning, a couple of them went out to look at a hawk in a tree and noticed this.  They called me.  Yep: the tire looks like it just plain blew up.  The service writer there calls it “freaky.” I say, “huh???"

There was no damage to their property or to the trailer parked next to it.  No one was hurt.  There seems to be no damage to the motorhome other than the black scuff marks on the rear wall just above the tire. 

The tire’s age is unknown.  It was the spare tire when I bought the rig over two years ago.   Last week I replaced the old ratty-looking white-ish cover on the spare with a new, spiffier black cover. The easiest, although still puzzling, explanation is that the black cover concentrated the heat from the sun, and Pow!!! 

I’ll get the RV back from these guys on Monday and schedule an oil change etc with Buck’s next week.  And ask Buck’s if they have any ideas about what might have caused this.  

A new tire will be on the order of $150-200.  A new cover (NOT black!) will be about $30.

Sigh.

Yep. It's been a while!

Last time I posted was right after my long trip up through Idaho and Montana.  I've been hunkered down in the heat of southern Arizona, catching up on house maintenance and with friends hereabouts. It's been a remarkable monsoon season, with heavy rains producing local flooding sufficiently dramatic to make the national TV news. And muggy!  Not by the standards of the Southeast or even my New England home, but still humid enough to make it really nasty a lot of the time.  When the dew point gets over 60, most people begin to be uncomfortable.  That would be me!

The next venture:  I definitely have itchy feet again.  I have a trip outlined in my head which centers on meandering along Highway 101 in northern California and Oregon.  I started scoping it out, and discovered that the whole dang world thinks September would be a great time to do just that!  State parks and commercial campgrounds alike were pretty much full -- this for a trip a month out!  But more than that, I found that I just wasn't ready for a month or more on the road.  Planning it felt like work, not play, and that is NOT the idea here.  So ...

I have a trip outlined in the Arizona high country.  It's much cooler up there, it's scenic, and it's close enough that I don't have to drive for days and days to get there.  There are lots and lots of National Forest campgrounds and dispersed camping areas... it'll be mostly boondocking, but likely with enough sun that the solar panel can keep me in business.  And a week-long trip seems a lot more manageable than a month.  There are some maintenance tasks on the rig which I've been postponing, so I've scheduled them with my new favorite RV repair place... which has conveniently relocated to a spot about a mile down the road from me, right next to "my" Albertson's supermarket.  And the fact that I'm not putting on that many miles, and I'm mostly boondocking, means that the cost will be way low.

Timing looks like about a week out, spanning the weekend after Labor Day.  The closer we get to October, the closer we get to the kind of weather we brag about down here in the desert.

So that's the word.

By the numbers

I'm home, putting things away, doing laundry, reacquainting myself with the dog.  Almost ready to put the rig back in the storage lot. I'll have some reflections on this, the longest trip I've taken with the Beast, in a day or so.

But the numbers are easy to summarize: the indispensable Road Trip app records all the vehicle-related costs, and some spreadsheets I've put together track where I've been and how long.

So here's it is:

I was away for 33 nights.  Three of those were spent with family, so for expense purposes I was on the road for 30 days.

I covered 3,476 miles, consuming 395 gallons of gas at an average price of $2.33 per gallon.  Gas cost ranged from $1.979 to $2.659. Total gas cost was $919.58  The Gas Buddy app and web site were invaluable in finding the best gas prices. Over the trip, which included some challenging mountain grades and some gentle rolling country, I got about 8.8 miles per gallon.  Wind and whether or not I was using a/c as I drove seemed to be the biggest determinants of fuel efficiency.

I spent a total of $485 on overnight stays; the cost per night of these ranged from zero for Walmart parking lots to $36.42 at a commercial RV park in Idaho.  Nightly cost averaged about $16.

Total road trip cost, then, was about $1400, or $46 per day.  I don't keep separate track of food costs, since I eat about the same stuff as I would at home and buy it at supermarkets along the way.

I released 7,663 pounds of CO2 into the atmosphere.

There were no notable repair costs this trip.

These are, of course, only the direct costs of this trip.  The indirect costs of repairs and maintenance to the rig are a whole 'nother story.

Almost home

I have two more days on the road.  It's been a long trip, and a good one.  Right now I'm at an old favorite placeL BLM's Valley of Fires campground near Carrizozo, NM.  Tonight I'll be at Rockhound state park near Deming, NM, and then home to the furnace heat of Tucson.  Heat or not, it's time to be home.  I don't know when or where the next trip will be.

The activity on this blog will be pretty minimal for a while.  There'll almost certainly be a summary post with some stats and some thoughts.  But after that the blog, like the Beast, will go into storage for a while.

I got up early this morning before there was even a hint of light on the eastern horizon.  The stars! Dry desert air and almost no man-made lights ... the Milky Way stretched across the sky.  And as I stood, probably with my mouth hanging open, a meteor streaked across the eastern sky.  It was a moment.  I'm grateful.

Hunkered down …

For a few days with family in Boulder. When I leave here I'll probably head home, but not sure what route. 

Some photos from the last couple of days

Catching up with some images 

Trapper Peak near Darby, MT

Like I said ... 

The Salmon river from Rte 93

A few miles north of Arco, ID, on Rte 93

At Spring Gulch NFS campground, south of Darby, MT.  Written on Sunday, July 3

Fourth of July in Conner, MT

The while 5 days I’ve been here, it’s been quiet and the other folks have been pretty mellow: even a bunch of bikers. The people across the way were a nice couple from California in a pickup camper, who went off most days to go fishing somewhere.  The woman of that pair fell on a river rock and broke her arm (above the elbow: that’ll be a nuisance to immobilize and set!) and their spot was claimed by a family group with Idaho plates on a very large 5th-wheel trailer.  They had three kids ranging in age from something like 8 or 9 to very early teens.  Each kid had a little quad (motorized 4-wheel toy) and Dad had a full-size quad.  And they spent hours buzzing up and down the campground road, squealing and towing each other on skateboards.  Squealing, I tell you!

They did quiet down when dinner called (the smell of burning chicken filled the air,) which was just about when I was heading for bed.  I did resist the urge to go shake my cane at them and yell “Get off my lawn!”  It was a holiday weekend, and they were out camping, and I’m sure it will be one of the good childhood memories.  No harm, no foul.  But I found myself thinking that no WAY would we have let son Mike do something like that when we were camping with him.  If they’d had quads back in the day, I’m sure he’d have loved it.  But it was SO intrusive: their noise filled the whole campground.  I liked it better when the loudest noise was either the Bitterroot River across the way or the mosquitos trying to get through the screens. 

From here I’m headed south and east.  I haven’t decided yet — I’ll probably need to make the call tonight — but I’m still thinking I’ll head across Wyoming and south to Boulder.  We’ll see once I get on the road.

Continuing issue: solitude. 

Before I forget: forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.  I think it was the second night I was here.  It was late afternoon, it was hot and humid, the mosquitos were in full cry. As I walked down to the toilet, I heard — generators.  Yes!!!  So I went back to the rig, fired up the generator and the a/c.  And for a blissful hour or so I was cool and not sweaty and only a little guilty.  On that subject (generators, not guilt) I was again impressed by how quiet the current Honda generators are.  Trailers, even big ones, generally don’t have generators built in the way motorhomes do.  You haul the generator out, put it somewhere, fire it up, and plug the RV into it. They’re really quiet.  Mine makes the sound of a well-mannered lawn mower; the Honda units just purr.  

One of the features of this time at Spring Gulch was trips into town.  “Town” is Darby, MT.  Home of supermarkets, gas stations, laundromats, cell phone service and cheeseburgers.  And cowboys. About 15 minutes up the road. 

Pictures from the last few days, as promised

I promised images when I got someplace with decent wifi.  Here they are.  The first are from Wilderness Gateway campground.

I'm pretty sure this is wild huckleberry.  

Low clouds in early morning.

The Renogy panel doing its thing, later in the morning

Rapids on the Lochsa River

The trail for my hike.  Can't ask for better!

And a couple from the drive on Rt 12 from Wilderness Gateway campground to Lolo Hot Springs.

Catching up

June 24-27

A series of entries, written while I had no internet access and posted together now that I do. I have quite a few pictures, but the internet is so slow here that I'll send this text and then send pictures in the next day or so when I get decent internet.

Saturday June 25

This, I gotta say, is about as good as it gets.  

It’s 2:30 PM  at the Wilderness Gateway NFS campground.   I’ve been here maybe 24 hours, having left Pollock and the Canyon Pines RV resort about 9 am yesterday. It was cloudy and cool and spit rain all the way.  I loved it.

The route went up US 95 to Grangeville, then over and up ID 13 to Kooskia, then north and east up US 12 in the direction of Lolo Pass and, eventually, Missoula MT.  It was a spectacular drive. At times the road followed the river canyon closely (first the middle fork of the Clearwater, then the Lochsa. This is premiere whitewater country.   The ex-river rat in me had to concentrate on NOT looking over, trying to read the water and find the best line through the rapids.  Sometimes I pulled over and did just that. Then the country would open up into something more like river valley than canyon: big vistas of green fields, cattle, and farmland, sloping up to the ever-present ridges and peaks.  Lots of little towns; a few small cities like Grangeville. Many places to pull over, either to gawk at the country or let traffic pass, or both.  I realized at one point I was driving along with a really big grin on my face. 

The elevation gain wasn’t all that much until I went through White Bird and headed up the White Bird Grade: miles and miles of steady 6-7 percent grade.  I stopped at one pullover with a historical marker commemorating a battle with the Nez Perce more than a century ago, as much to give Beastie some time to breathe as to admire the view and learn a little history.  

Lots of NFS campgrounds along the way, whose names I recognized from my map study.  And finally into Wilderness Gateway campground where I had reserved three nights. The sites here were described as in complete shade, and I thought I might have to run the generator to make it through.  The shade was overstated, and yesterday’s clouds and rain have given way to clear blue sunny skies.  The solar panel is pumping watts, the temperature is in the 70’s, and I have butterflies, ground squirrels (chipmunks to us native Easterners,) honeybees, and hummingbirds for company.

And people. When I pulled in yesterday about this time the place was more than half-empty.  By 8PM, it was about full. Now, it’s pretty empty again. Lots of tent campers; many more trailers than motorhomes. Families with children, mostly.  As I walk around, lots of chances to talk with folks.  The background sound is the river.  To say that it’s pleasant would be a VAST understatement. 

—

Sunday morning June 26

And although I haven’t really decided anything, it feels like I am staying here today.  Beautiful morning; the solar panel is scavenging what it can from the partially-shaded sun, with plenty more to come as the sun moves higher.  It’s cool, with only the sound of the river in the background.  Ooops — not quite: the hot water heater has just fired up its annoying blow torch sound; guess it’ll be time for a sponge bath in a little while. 

I was a bad boy this morning.  I drained the grey water tank (wash water) into the surrounding shrubbery.  If I were tent camping, of course, like the folks next door, I’d have been tossing my dishwater out in the same way, so the net environmental impact is about nil. So I tell myself.

I’ve been trying an experiment here:  I’ve left the bed in position.  My standard sleeping arrangement involves collapsing the “dinette” table into a platform and putting bedding on top: thick blanket as a “mattress pad” and then a sheet and then a top cover of a thin cotton blanket and then a lightweight sleeping bag folded like a quilt over that.  It’s surprisingly comfortable, but it’s a minor pain to do every evening and undo every morning.  So here, I’ve been eating on a little folding table, and leaving the bed set up.  Minor inconvenience, but great for naps! And since there’s no internet, I don’t spend much time on the laptop: right now I’m typing this at the picnic table.  So far, I like this arrangement.  

The water heater has shut up, so perhaps it’s bath time.

—

Sunday evening. 

I didn’t take as much of a bath as I could have.  What I did was go for a hike.  Yes, a hike.  An actual damn hike. At end of this little road is a trail sign.  “Overlook Trail.  1/2 mile.  Dead end.”  So I got a water bottle, my phone to take pictures, and my hiking staff. It was about 11am when I took off down the trail: A well-maintained little day hike trail, with no rocks or roots to speak of, and a slow gentle incline. Somewhat to my surprise, my knees were fine, my back was fine.  It was … glorious.  It smelled like forest: slightly damp, pine-needle-y.  I felt great.  I went at a comfortable (glacial) pace, catching glimpses from time to time of the river below me, getting further and further below me as the slow climb continued.  I was a truly happy camper; it didn’t matter how slow I was moving.  I was sweaty and loose and strong.  I was, by God, HIKING. 

After a while I began to doubt that “1/2 mile” sign, but it didn’t matter. I had managed to silence the part of me that kept wanting to know “how much further,” and tried, successfully for the most part, to simply enjoy where I was: in the woods again.  I wasn’t trying to get somewhere.  I was there.

And then … 

I stubbed my toe on a root, and kept myself from falling with the staff.  I paused, took a drink, and knew fear.  There I was, alone, with no one knowing where I was.  What if I sprained an ankle, or worse? Stupid!  I stood there for a while, turned around, and slowly, carefully, made my way back down the trail to “home,” no longer loose, but tight with fear around the edges of my mind, returning to my day job as a somewhat doddery old man. 

Despite this moment, it was a good experience.  Most of it was the best time I’ve had outdoors in Lord knows how long. The fearful part, not so great. For a little while, as I hiked back, I berated myself for turning around. For not leaving a note about where I was going.   But that wore off. I swallowed the last of my water as I headed down the campground road to the Beast.  I’ve been turned back from summit attempts in the Cacades by bad weather.  I’ve turned back on rock climbs in the White Mountains of New Hampshire when it turned out I was attempting a route that was beyond my abilities. The idea that an easy 1/2 mile stroll would prove beyond me was hard on the ego, for a little while.  But only a little while.  It was a really good time.

—

Early morning, Monday June 27

I’ll head out in a while, up US 12 to Lolo Hot Springs.  Maybe there’ll be usable internet and I’ll post this.  As I picked things up last night, and stowed the solar panel for travel, I realized that when I take off from here, it will feel like leaving home.  More than other departures on this trip, even the week-plus I spent in Cascade.  I think it’s because this leafy, green place with a river running through it feels like the places of my young manhood. The terrain reminds me of New England and the Adirondacks, with fewer rocks and bugs. It brings back memories of youth and strength, a little foolishness, unlimited energy, and the companionship of like-minded folks. 

—

Monday afternoon, June 27

I got out at about 9, and wound along Rt 12 up over Lolo Pass and on to Lolo Hot Springs. Nothing special: roomy sites on grass.  I’ll go investigate showers in a bit.  (UPDATE: ummm ... no thinks on the showers.  Good thing this place is cheap!) The wifi is really slow, but I’ll try to get this out this afternoon. 

White Bird grade

The new grade is pretty challenging, too!

Somewhere near Pollock, ID

The view from my campsite:

The warning signs kinda detract from the wilderness-y feel, but it's a commercial facility, after all.

I pulled over at one of the places I was thinking about boondocking along the road, and the view was:

And just to prove it was me (us):

This is a really nice RV park.  Not close to a town, like Water's Edge in Cascade, but you can't ask for nicer ambiance than a rushing river, particularly if you're from Tucson. Everything is spotlessly clean and looks new.

The campground wifi seems to work OK.  Which is good, because ATT is zero, and there's a usable Verizon signal on the office porch.  I'm pretty sure that the next days at the NFS campground will be cell-free: they warn about it on their web page.

So I'm fine, and really attracted to a post-lunch nap.  See y'all!

For the visually inclined ...

This looks like the route for the next week or so.

I plan to leave the hot springs on Tuesday the 28th and head down US 93.  I'll find a campsite there and hunker down over the 4th of July weekend, and then probably basically head for home.

Routes 12 (Cascade to Lolo) and 93 (Lolo to Arco) are some very scenic territory.  I'm excited!

The road ahead

I spent some time today figuring out the next week of travel.  This is what it looks like:

Mon, Tues, Weds June 20,21,22 : Cascade, ID -- where I am now
Thurs, June 23: Somewhere near Pollock, ID
Fri, Sat, Sun June 24,25,26: Wilderness Gateway CGD on US Rte 12, Nez Perce-Clearwater NF
Mon, June 27: Lolo Hot Springs, somewhat near Missoula MT on US Rte 12

I extended the stay here in Cascade by one day in order to make this fit together. The night near Pollock will either be on a pullover on Rte 12 or an Idaho Rest Area nearby.

For those following closely,  the time at Wilderness Gateway will have no cell service; service at Pollock is iffy, but the Hot Springs people say they have internet.  We'll see.

My general plan after this is to head south, possibly jogging through Missoula MT if I need to refill a prescription.  Need to count pills ...

Life at 6 Main Street, #38, Cascade, ID

Lots of people came in last night ... mostly Idaho plates.  I'm thinking a lot of people from Boise come up here for the weekend.  There surely are more families with kids.

This little cluster of trailers, motorhome and tents seems to be one group.  They arrived yesterday afternoon and set up camp.  The kids and one adult immediately set off to go swim in the river.  I dipped a toe in the river a day ago, and no thanks!  The pelicans don't mind, apparently.

Walked around the campground this morning.

Lots and lots of people, in lots of kinds of rigs, from huge Class A diesels to little pop-up trailers. Big sign in the front windshield of a big rig: "Due to a shortage of ammunition, there will be no warning shots."  Ouch.  Many levels of ouch, particularly right now.

Yesterday I did some laundry, feeling unbearably smug that I'd packed lots of quarters.  The major project was interior -- a chore I've been putting off for a while.

I mostly use the bathtub as a place to store boxes of things, laundry bags, etc.  But camped in a place like this, with unlimited water and continuous drainage, it can make sense to shower in the rig. The hot water heater has a 6-gallon tank, so long soaking showers are out.  The caulk around the edges of the tub had dried out and come away in places, so I cleaned out the seam between the tub and shower enclosure and put in new silicone caulk, which I had in my tool box.  Judging by the smell it's about cured; today I'll trim the excess and test it for leaks as best I can.  This is the kind of chore which would be torture at home, when the coach heats up to intolerable levels in the parking lot.  Yes, I could run the generator and the a/c, but that somehow seems excessive.

Other than finishing the tub project, I don't have an agenda for today.  That's OK.

And boy, did I time this trip right for weather!  It's gonna hit 114 degrees F today, maybe 120 tomorrow.  120 is almost unheard of for Tucson.   Here, 65 today, mid-seventies tomorrow.

Sorry, Tucsonans!

Settled in

Here we be.  Cascade, ID, population 900-something.

I arrived in the early afternoon, after what felt like a very long drive across to Boise from Jerome: Flat and uninteresting.  Getting on Rt 55 northwards toward Cascade required going straight through Boise, and while it wasn't all that hard, I found myself wondering how on earth I'd ever have done it, solo, with just paper maps.  Thank you, Waze!

Once north of Boise, the trip got nicer.  The road ran along the side of the Payette river, one of the West's premiere whitewater routes.  Some pretty gnarly-looking Class III and IV rapids; I only got a picture of one, almost certainly an easy III:

If you can, I recommend enlarging the image.  The interesting stuff is up in the top.  Yee-hah!

I used to be a whitewater guide.  Not on small fierce runs like this, but on big desert rivers like the Green and Colorado down in Utah. Still quickens my pulse, though, and I found myself "scouting" the way through some of the more challenging runs.

I'm staying here at Water's Edge park for a week.  I'll have more to say about the park and the town as the week goes on ... but here's the view:

Not bad, huh?  The weather has been cloudy and drizzly all day.  The high was somewhere in the 50s. Tomorrow should be mostly clear with highs about 20 degrees warmer.  I like it here.

Idaho Ho!

It's Wednesday, so it must be Idaho.  I don't think I've ever been in Idaho on purpose before; I did drive through once on I-90 on my way from Olympia WA to the East.

I posted a photo from my phone yesterday, but you haven't heard much from me since I left Tucson. First night out was with friends in Flagstaff, then the "real" trip began.  I stayed at a small and delightful RV park in Mt Carmel Junction, UT, which is near Zion and a host of other scenic national parks.  The RV park was a strip of land with 12 campsites, run by the motel across the street.  Green! Green trees for shade, some green grass (complete with robins hunting worms), and the sound of water from a little river. A real sense of being out of the desert.

Not fancy, but cheap and I liked it a lot.  Full hookups!

Next day ended just south of Salt Lake city: A Walmart lot in Orem.  The road up was wonderful, as I made my way north and west around the east end of Grand Canyon.   I stopped to stretch and take some pictures at Glen Canyon dam, where in an earlier life I went boating and wakeboarding on Lake Powell.

Very hard to get a sense of scale, but this thing is BIG!

Next morning (yesterday, Tuesday) I drove from Orem up through Salt Lake City morning rush hour traffic (not fun,) and then north and west to Jerome, Idaho.  Another Walmart lot.

The northern Utah countryside was wonderful: lush rolling hills with high mountains to the west, a few stubborn snowfields persisting.

A few bug spatters on the windshield, but hey ... 

And so to Jerome, and Idaho.  The intermountain Northwest.  It's currently in the 30's up in Cascade where I'm headed for the next week, with rain showers.  Highs in the 60s.  Tucsonans, eat your hearts out!

So here we go.  As the intro to the NPR One app says, "It's on!"