The next morning I awoke my son who had no idea what all happened as he slept. I thought that was pretty amazing that he didn't get so cold and that he felt spry when he woke up. We went in the truck stop and got all cleaned up and a bite to eat and hit the road. As said before, Wyoming is a really neat state to drive through. One of the most surprising little sights the first time I went through Wyoming was the headquarters of Cabello's, the outfitter company, which caught me off guard at how huge it was. It is my understanding that they actually have stores scattered across the country. Laramie was really a neat place to see as well. Seemingly nothing anywhere close and then all the sudden this little town appears in a small valley with a good many trees and houses. Almost looked like a little northeastern town had been cut off the cereal box and pasted into the Wyoming landscape. I think one of my son's most notable memories about Wyoming, 'cause he still talks about it, was all the big trucks blown on their sides by all the wind. The doubles and triples had it particularly bad as the longer the rig the more whip effect happens with wind and sudden movements. By the time we stopped after 400 miles, across the state in Evanston, we were ready for a good meal. We had snacked during the day as it is typical for me not to stop if I can help it. While in Evanston we sat at the front end of the restaurant and enjoyed small talk with locals. One big Morman family came in and settled in for a meal. I kept noticing this 13 or 14 yr old girl making eyes at grown men. As we sat there watching the news and hearing local gossip, the Morman family got ready to leave. I saw that girl turn real quick and run over to a table with a 30 or so yr old man all decked out in cowboy gear and hand him a little piece of paper with her name and number on it. Well, needless to say, that got the gossip machine cranked to a new level but it was something to talk about! lol Still though, it kind of makes you wonder. With several more hours and a couple hundred miles left to cover, we loaded up again and hit the road to finish the day.
There is a big drop from the Wyoming line down into Salt Lake City. I can’t remember how many miles of downhill it is but I know it had to last 20 minutes or more. Listening to the droning sound of the jake brakes billowing times the number of trucks falling of the ridge was deafening at times. For anyone who doesn’t know, those loud Jacobs or other style engine/exhaust brakes, has likely saved your life and you wouldn’t even know it. They truly save time and brakes on a truck which translates into saving other more important things. Once we wound our way through the hard curves and drops of the last 20 or 30 miles we eased into the Salt Lake area. I t was hard to know exactly what town we were in but it is a pretty area. Most notable was the rather large inclines on the surrounding mountains. We stopped at yet another TA (Travel Centers of America) truck stop on the south end of the lake. I think the name of the town is Magna, which is the last stop before the going across the Great Salt Lake Desert and the Bonneville Salt Flats. It was time for fuel so after getting that done we grabbed a few more things and got ready to bolt across the flats for the last leg of the trip to Carlin, NV. I’d have to say that particular area had two very impressive sights to see on the trip. The mountain that begins its ascent right off the TA parking lot was almost straight up and quite tall but right next to it is a man made smoke stack that looked nearly as tall. I am sure it is nowhere near as tall but no doubt it was inexcusably high!
We had to figure our way out of the mixed little bunch of roads around the TA but of towards the west we put the hammer down and tried to make land speed records across the empty landscape between SLC and Wendover, NV. One of the very interesting aspects of going across the US is that you can see state-lines almost defined by the landscape. The drop off into Utah and then the rise into Nevada. The ascent begins right as you cross the line. All of Wendover was on an incline. As neat as that was, I felt let down by the fact that I had to explain to my son what sort of human nature requires that busty women had to plastered on all the billboards with glitzy lights all around. By this time I had run out of time and miles in my log books, but it was late Thursday night and with 120 miles and a couple hours of driving, I had to be sure I could get unloaded Friday morning to have a chance at getting back east over the weekend. So I rolled the dice and rolled into Carlin, Nevada at the foothills of the Independence and Tuscarora mountain ranges. There is no flat ground around there so the truck stop parking area sits on a pretty good slant. By morning my son and I were piled up on one side of the sleeper. Between the slant and the constant vibration from the idling truck, we had no chance of waking up the way we went to sleep.
The next post I’ll go on about the funny things that happened as we delivered the load of equipment.
