Farley Goes to Moab and the Mighty Palouse, Day 3: Dead Horse, Hopefully Not Dead Van

Today we waited for our Helena friends Wayne and Cindy Huntley to arrive.  They'd spent the night in Spanish Fork, a few hours away.   While waiting, I carved the Wal-Mart pumpkin I brought from Helena to get ready for trick-or-treat on Monday. When Marc and I hadn't seen them by 11 a.m. or so, we decided to take on the day and head out to ride at Dead Horse Point State Park.

The trails at Dead Horse are beginner/intermediate with little bits of more technical stretches thrown in.  Marc and I rode 11 miles of cool desert trail.  We wrapped up with lunch in Farley and a stop at the visitor's center to learn a little something.  Farley did start making a clunking noise as we drove over a drain grate in the parking lot there, so we might get him checked out in town on Monday. 

The Intrepid Trail System in Dead Horse Point State Park. 
If you're a solid intermediate rider, you'll love this because
there's barely anything you can't get up or down.

After showers at the Moab Aquatic Center, we headed back to camp, where Wayne and Cindy had shown up and we were all planning to have dinner. We ate, drank, and laughed until Marc broke up the party by insisting on listening to the WSU-OSU game on XM. I learned during the game that the Huskies beat Utah today, which is no big deal, but Marc told me that ESPN College Game Day was in Salt Lake City.  That's right; Kirk Herbstreit was in the same state as me and Marc didn't even let me know.  Probably best for Kirk.

My pumpkin, ready for Halloween
in a mere two days.  No one seems to think
there will be kids in the campground on a Monday,
nor do they think they'll come up to a
van to get candy.  We'll see about that.

Sharing headphones to listen to the
WSU game on XM.  At this point,

we were down 21-0. 
Marc was dubious.

Farley Goes to Moab and the Mighty Palouse, Day 2: Arch Hike, Mountain Bike

Across the street from our campground is the trailhead for what was formerly known as Negro Bill Canyon.  Now it's Grandstaff Canyon.  Regardless, Marc and I hiked up to what is the world's sixth largest arch.  It was an easier hike than I expected.  The arch is insane.  As were the folks rappelling from a wall nearby.  It was obviously a family and with a couple of guides.  I talked to the dad, who said he'd never rock-climbed before so, yes, beginners could do it.  They'd hiked in, rappelled one wall a short distance from this one, a little more hiking, then the second rappel, then they were going to hike out the same way Marc and I came in. I gotta check out the cost.  I work a ton in the next six weeks at the ambulance and might splurge if the price seems right.

Any hole in a rock wall with a couple of timber supports
is irresistible to mining man.

Morning Glory Arch, with
someone rappelling
in the background.

Then Marc and I headed to the Brands Trails area outside of town for a short afternoon ride.  We did one of my favorite Moab loops, Lazy-EZ.  It's the easy kind of trail where you won't get hurt on your first day and ruin the rest of your trip.  Then we did a second loop of more slick-rock type riding, O-Something. I describe it as the longest three miles in mountain biking. I was exhausted by the time we were done.  So we headed back to camp, made van quesadillas and salad, and sat around the fire drinking beer with Other Mark and Jo and getting to know our campground neighbors from Texas. Wayne and Cindy arrive tomorrow morning!

The Circle-O Trail. 
Way off in the distance is Arches National Park.

Farley Goes to Moab and the Mighty Palouse, Day 1: Two Girls, Two Bikes, One Van

Three couples--Other Mark Smith and Jo Berg, Wayne and Cindy Huntley, and Marc and I--planned a trip to Moab for a long weekend this weekend.  Then Marc and Other Mark had to go and decide to leave early, on Monday, so Other Mark could spend a little more quality time in the new Casita he and Jo brought home from the factory in Texas last month.  I had to work Tuesday and had book group Wednesday, so Jo and I decided to stick with the original plan and leave Thursday morning.
It was the first time I'd ever driven Farley any real distance without Marc.  I told him I was freaked out about a break-own.  He told me, "Just do what you'd do if I were there.  I'm not mechanical.  Call AAA." Luckily, it didn't come to that.  Farley was awesome.

It was a quick and, thankfully, uneventful, trip.  We were undecided about whether we'd stop and spend the night along the way or just bomb on through the 715 miles to get there in one day.  Somewhere around Salt Lake City, we realized it was only another four or so hours, so we decided bombing through was the way to go.  I was beyond hopped up on caffeine and at a bathroom stop in Wellington, Utah, I realized I was shaking, either from caffeine or not enough food, so we drove a couple blocks back to a fast-food Mexican place I'd seen for the Thursday two tacos and a soda special.

You can't beat all this food for $4.50
Soda included.
Horchata for an extra $1.

We got to Mark and Other Marc's campsite along the Colorado River outside of Moab around 7:30 that night.  We were distracted just before their campsite by a truck with huge light panels shining up onto the red rocks along the road.  We assumed it was some sort of road work or maybe search and rescue but turns out it a tourist company illuminates the rocks for a boat trip along the Colorado.

Farley, down by the
Colorado River.

Home is where the heart is. 
Go Cougs!

Canyon walls across the
street from our campsite,
all lit up for the boat tour.

Farley Heads for the Pacific Coast, Day 2: Bugs, Booze and Bocce

This morning I startled awake at 5:15 a.m.  I'm glad I did.  I missed the most brilliant part of the sunrise while I was getting dressed, but I caught an amazing reflection of it in the clouds and water to the west.

I missed the best part of the sunrise, but not the best part of its reflection

We only had a few hours to drive today, so it was pretty leisurely.  We stopped just across the river in Umatilla, Oregon, at the Pacific Salmon Visitor Information Center.  Not a lot of activity this time of year; September is the biggest run up the fish ladder, but we did see a few from the underwater viewing area.

Watching salmon climb the fish ladder back upstream.

Changing into shorts as the day warmed up, Marc discovered he had a tick!

Our only other stop was the Maryhill Winery, back on the Washington side of the river farther west.  We did a tasting, then got a glass of rose and checked out a free set of bocce balls and ventured to the courts to play. With the rules posted on the wall, it was pretty easy to learn.  It was like we were back in college bowling again.  I won; just let's make sure that fact gets stated.

Wine-tasting at Maryhill Winery.

Marc's doppleganger was standing
beside him at the bar.  I can't believe how
much they looked alike, from their hair
and glasses all the way to their similar sandals.

Reaching back into my college years to
regain my bowling form for bocce in the vineyard.

Tonight we're staying at Haystack Reservoir about 45 minutes north of Bend.  It's a real, $12 pay campsite.

$12 gets you neighbors who are much less sketchy.

Farley Heads for the Pacific Coast, Day 1: Roll On, Columbia, Roll On

Today was the first day of a three-week Farley trip.  On the itinerary:  Bend, Oregon (for some transmission work at German Transaxle, a VW specialist, and maybe, coincidentally, some beer); maybe Portland, to meet our friend Rick Alton, unless he meets us in Bend); the Oregon and California coast; Nevada (by default, because you can't get to Salt Lake from California without going through its endless scrub-brush desert); and finally ending up in Salt Lake City at the end of the month for the Warped Tour all-day punk concert.

Today was also pretty uneventful.  We met our friend Andy Hander in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, for Vietnamese lunch and pre-season Cougar football talk.  Another stop outside Tri-Cities, Washington, at one of those tourist traps that sells jellies, sauces, salsas and candies, as well as a little fresh, local produce.  I got a whole pint of raspberries for just $2.49.  That's insane.

OMG, hot and spicy Vietnamese chow mein.

Then we headed on to Paradise Park on the Washington side of the Columbia across from Umatilla, Oregon.  Another freecampsites.net find and perhaps one of the best.

Room with a view.

There's even a waterfront swing!

Walking the shores of the mighty Columbia.

There was a sign about sturgeon fishing on the access road to the park.  I'm assuming that's what someone was trying to catch with this thing I found on the beach.  It's now hanging from Farley's rear-view mirror.  And I might need a tetanus shot.

I grew up picking raspberries every summer. Sometimes I really miss Washington.

Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 17: I Shied Away From the Brothel Tour

We headed north out of Las Vegas, back into the unending desert.  We stopped for gas and a soda at the Area 51 Alien Center.  I couldn't resist a photo of the brothel but I did resist the free tour.  I wasn't sure what I might see but WAS pretty sure there was nothing I DID want to see.  All the Area 51 stuff cracked me up, too. 

The desert is always beautiful
at the beginning of the drive.

I hope the ladies here are prettier than the building.

Oh, the wonders this place held. 
And right next door to the brothel.

How did they know I wasn't one of them?

Because I look like one of them!

These are not gag alien glasses. 
They're my real sunglasses.

World's largest pistachio in New Mexico,
world's largest firecracker in Nevada.

Marc pulled me away from souvenier shopping for alien trinkets and we continued on toward Death Valley National Park.  I'd planned to do a few hikes, but it was 102 at the visitor's center when we got out of the car.  Sweet baby Jesus.  I'm a lizard, but I need a little acclimation from 80 to 102. So we just made stops at a couple of mining ghost towns and kept moving. 

I actually felt like I was in Burundi.

Wild desert burros.

Part of the Rhylolite mining ghost town.

We stopped for the night at Walker Lake.  Once again, it was dark when we got there, so we were happy to wak up to a gorgeous morning lake view.

 Not a bad view to wake up to!

Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 16: Meeting an Icon

We got up early this morning and headed for Las Vegas, for the NOFX concert at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay.  While Marc was driving, I found a spot on freecamping.net in a parking lot behind Bally's.  We pulled Farley in amid a bunch of big RVs and headed to the Strip.
 
We wandered south toward Mandalay Bay, doing a little gambling along the way.  We stopped at one of the restaurants on the walkway between Excalibur and Mandalay Bay for a bite and I watched the passing crowd closely for NOFX band members but didn't see any.  We got to Mandalay Bay and Marc bought our tickets and we headed in.  At security, the guy asked me to empty my pockets and put my arms out.  I was so focused on him, I didn't realize that Fat Mike the lead singer of NOFX, walked by the other way.  After we were past security, Marc said, "Fat Mike walked by the other way while you were emptying your pockets.  In fact, you bumped his girlfriend when you put your arms out."  Dammit, Marc; epic fail!  And, of course, I couldn't leave once I was inside.

This is how old men dress for punk shows:
In punk record label shirts and peepers.

The concert was great.  I am not the hugest NOFX fan.  However, I am a huge fan of the band's between-song banter.  Again, we were right in front.  I feel a little guilty taking up valuable big-fan space, but I enjoy being up there, unless I start getting shoved too much. 

Fat Mike, best stand-up comedian in punk rock.

After the show, Marc pointed out their manager, Kent, in the sound area.  Years ago, NOFX did a TV series of their international tour.  Kent was hysterical.  He drank quite a bit and got into a lot of hijinks.  I've watched the episode of him on the train in Russia several times.  Some snowy night, you should borrow my DVDs and binge-watch them, even if you don't like NOFX's music.  Kent is worth it. 

I've looked for him every time I've seen the band.  So, after Marc spotted him, I walked up and tapped him and asked, "Kent, could I take a selfie with you?"  He said absolutely.  I said, "I loved you in the band series.  You were the best part."  He laughed.  I said, "But you're sober now, right?"  He said yes.  I said, "Congratulations."  He said, "Thanks!  But I'm still the best part."  It was pretty awesome.

Kent will always be the best part.

And with that, we walked back to our home-away-from-home behind Bally's for the night.