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The Cruise--Details

I didn't include more details in the prior "The Cruise" post for two reasons. 1)  I didn't think anyone would be interested; and 2)  This trip didn't include much of the normal topics:  good beer, good coffee or John-style travel. But there are details, which may be useful to some people contemplating how such a trip is put together. On the first day of the trip, we drove three hours to pick up my mother in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.  At 85, she isn't comfortable driving for long distances and hadn't flown for many years. We then drove 3 1/2 more hours to Chicago, where we checked into the Wyndham, where you can get a room that includes the cost of parking for up to 12 days.   We were up early on the hotel shuttle to O'Hare, where we then boarded the a non-stop American Airlines flight to New Orleans. Here, we checked into a Hampton Inn near the port.  My mother was pretty tired, so Julia and I went out for a Cajun dinner and live music.   Rememberi...

Flaming Gorge, Days Two and Three


My campsite has been so quiet until this morning that I’ve almost felt like I’m not supposed to be here. There is a gate leading down to the beach road that can be closed and locked. I hope that someone lets me know if the beach season suddenly ended without locking me inside this little corner of paradise.




I discovered a boat launch about a mile away by road walk and about one-half mile by a little-used trail. There are heated bathrooms with flush toilets here, along with a fish cleaning station with the water still on. I haven’t seen any boats launch from here, but there was a bit of boat traffic on the water late yesterday afternoon.

After our early morning hike, coffee and breakfast, blogging, and reading, the temperatures gradually rose throughout the day. I took a sirloin steak out of the freezer to defrost and decided to take Elvis to the water to cool off. Now, Elvis is 75% golden retriever and 25% poodle. You would think such a dog would be a natural swimmer., but that’s not the case. Elvis will sniff at the water like it’s some kind of trap, trying to get him. Because he was so hot, I was going to force the issue a bit. I started throwing sticks into the edge of the water, and he would tentatively go out and retrieve them—only realizing after he got back to shore that his legs were wet. How did that happen?

Finally, I started throwing the sticks out further in the water. He refused to go completely under, letting those sticks float away. But he did get in far enough to get his legs, underside and chest wet, which cooled him off and reinvigorated Elvis. He started running up and down the beach like a greyhound, shaking the water off and acting reborn.

After that excitement, I returned to the Brew Hut for my last beer (we didn’t bring much with us), reading on my Kindle, and then feeding Elvis. It was too hot to cook inside and too windy to cook outside, so I prepared a late dinner after the sun went down, cooling things off. I dined on sautéed spinach with garlic, mushrooms in butter, and one-third of a large sirloin steak. I saved the remainder for two more meals.

Early the next day, Elvis was primed to hike. We made a big circle around the area before coming back to the Brew Hut to brew coffee. As I went outside with my cup of steaming Brazilian, I walked around the other side of the Brew Hut and discovered an old, beater car parked less than 50 yards away. It was parked on a steep angle, and there was no evidence of condensation on the windows (which would mean someone was probably sleeping inside. My mind started racing. Stolen car? Hidden dead bodies? I walked closer, took a quick photo of the license plate, and then looked inside.

“What the F do you think you are looking at?” shouted a male voice. I turned around and discovered a young man fishing just below the cliff on which the Brew Hut was parked. “Oh, sorry, sorry,” I said retreating. “I didn’t notice you drive up and was surprised that someone parked so close to my camp.”
He didn’t respond or necessarily seem accepting of my explanation. The fisherman apparently caught no fish and moved on about twenty minutes later.

When your closest camping neighbor is one-half mile away, the sight of a strange car and a profane encounter leaves one a bit off-balance. Another cup of coffee and morning views of my herd of pronghorns provided the antidote.

The rest of the day went without incident, and we enjoyed a very quiet evening.  On the next morning, my original plans to drive to Moab shifted when I discovered one of the truck tires was low.  This gave me a chance to try out the new portable air compressor which attaches to the battery and reaches long enough for any of the truck’s tires.  After a some trial and error, the small machine worked the way it was supposed to, although it did heat up markedly. I decided to return to Rock Springs to resupply at Wal-Mart and do my first Wal-Mart stay-over in the parking lot.  I checked with the manager and he pointed out the proper part of the lot to park the Brew Hut.

Resupplied with beer, food, and toiletries, we are ready for the next part of the journey.  Hopefully, the truck tire cooperates.

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