Dale's Out West Travels: May 23, 2016

Well here I am tearing up the roads of America once again in search of…

I have no idea. But so long as the objective remains undefined, I will never have to admit I have completed the pursuit. If that makes perfect sense to you then you are reading the right blog.

This journey targets the city of Montrose, Colorado… eventually. It is the home of my sole surviving aunt, Barbara Coster (nee Frank). But I will spare you the family story. What I do want to share with you is the experience of the road trip. I am amazed at the number of people I have met who are dumb founded by the notion of packing up the car with no agenda (although this particular trip has the family element), no reservations and no firm return dates. Some of my acquaintances recoil at the notion of life without room service and spas. Others express great trepidation being lost in a wilderness of motels with no time-certain check in.

In answer to your query, “But Dale, you must be able to fly to Colorado.” I respond, have you been following the TSA performance stories in the news this week? I don’t fly, and three-hour security lines are just one of a myriad of reasons. Here’s another; have you ever been served Mexican cuisine as the (I hear, no longer included) in-flight meal? And yet another: On those occasions when I did fly (mostly business trips on someone else’s dime) I insisted on a window seat and I spent the entire flight looking at the earth pass by below, wishing I knew what I was missing down there. And yes, by the time I arrived at my destination, my neck hurt. I much prefer to be down there, looking at the country close up.

So this trip required a decision; which route to take. There are two general options (although many variables present themselves within each), north or south. On a whim, I decided to take the northern route out this time and the southern route back. My path will take me north along I-15 to St. George, Utah then east along some interesting secondary highway(s) into Montrose. Then when I return home, I will proceed south through the San Juan Mountains (Rockies) to Cortez, Colorado where I will redirect westward along trails associated with the Mother Road (Route 66) and home.

I know some of you think as I-15 is merely a dedicated express way to Las Vegas. And for those travelers, it is all yours south of Fremont street. But once you get past Vegas, one has the chance to encounter some interesting geographical and cultural treasures. Just north of the Las Vegas metropolitan complex is a Nevada state park that borders lake Meade; Valley of Fire State Park. As you may have guessed from the name, it is comprised red rocks. If you didn’t, well, read a book… about anything. I did not stop to visit on this excursion, but for those of you who might travel to Sin City in the future, schedule some time for a car trip to this remarkable landscape. I offer you a google image as enticement. It may just wet your whistle for a road trip, ‘cause there’s stuff like this all over the West.

Valley of Fire

About an hour north of Vegas is the last chance to gamble in a little town named Mesquite. It is situated in the lower Virgin River Valley and I believe serves the non-LDS Utah residents who just can’t handle the trek into Lost Wages. As the I-15 continues north it cuts across a small but impressive corner of Arizona known as The Virgin River Gorge. The highway cuts right through this maze of geological wonder and it will take all your better judgment to keep from parking in the traffic lane to take pictures. There is no shoulder, don’t try it. The pictures I include here I got from Google images.

Virgin River Gorge

When the road reaches the top of the gorge you spill out into Utah. The coral hued mesas are among the most dramatic to be seen in the West. Ten minutes farther and you encounter the city of St. George, nestled in these same mesas. When I travel alone (which I am on this occasion) I try to find quaint little motels from yesteryear that evoke memories of family trips of my youth. Tonight I will be a guest of the Dixie Palm Motel. They boast seventeen rooms, numbered 201 through 217. The clerk does not know why and stopped looking for the second floor stairs some time ago. The motel map in printed on a 3 x 2^1/2 inch piece of paper on which there is an admonishment to drop the room key in the box outside the office when one leaves, so the maids will know you are done. Yes, the important part of that sentence is that they have keys, real brass keys. If you don’t understand, you picked the wrong book, try again.