July 9, ending in Fort Bridger, WY
Yes. They do have laundry at the Fort Bridger campground, and we now have a few clean clothes to get us home. They also have the cutest bathrooms/showers this side of anywhere.
Oh, but our drive today. Wowza. Left Nat Soo Pah probably about 9:15 a.m. I drove the first leg down to Ogden, some sweet country roads that were not bumpy AF, and then the interstate. But it was hilly and steep. It was a rather calm drive. I was certainly done by the time my 3 hours was up. Ooh, and I drove the truck n trailer from the gas pump over to an RV spot at the Love’s truck stop we’d stopped at, all by myself, no spotter. I decided that hey, if I can’t do this myself, I probably shouldn’t be driving anyway. But I did it! So it was sweet.
As we drove into the Bonneville basin, I noticed sort of a continuous ridge along the base of the mountains. Jim told me that's where the shores of Lake Bonneville were. Whoa. That was UP there and it must have been a HUGE lake. I'm sure I've heard of that prehistoric lake before, but I had never paid attention to where it might have been when I've been in the Salt Lake City area before. I was mesmerized.
Then we took Utah Highway 39 from Ogden-ish to Woodruff, over the Wasatch mountain range. Holy hell. It started off kinda fine, but then became a narrow canyon. Narrow isn’t even a great descriptor. Claustrophobic is closer to it. Felt like there was a mere 6” of room on either side of the vehicle or trailer, and then there was either oncoming TRAFFIC or a canyon WALL. Whee!
This photo hardly shows how narrow it got after this point...
And there was one restaurant on the side of the road was established in 1902. Whoa!
There was no place to turn around; you’re in it to win it. But that canyon part lasted only 3-5 miles. Then the river was dammed and it opened up into a lovely valley. That went on for a while. Then there was a right turn, but we were stopped because there was construction. Finally there was a “Follow Me” truck that led us through the pea gravel joy of the next several miles. Then that got better. There was a steady ascent, up and up and up and when does it ever stop going up?
Again, as we hoped we were approaching the peak, there was more construction. Here, they were actually applying asphalt to the road with a steamroller as we sat stopped, so we watched and waited for oncoming traffic to be led through. That was a wild minute. I remember really zoning out and just hoping we’d ever get through. And we did. Another “Follow Me” truck was in front, leading us through the left lane which had not just this minute been paved.
Still, the road went ever up. And up, and up. Then more up. And finally there was a big turnout, where I knew we must be at the Very Top Of The World, because I could see everything up there. Doesn't look like much from this photo below, but I assure you, the air felt thin and the earth felt very small up there.
And yet, we were still not quite at the top. I don’t know when we ever hit the top of that mountain because I don’t think there was ever a marker. Maybe it said Monte Cristo at 9800 something feet. And then we were finally able to head down. Down was kind of gentle and uneventful. And beautiful. There were red hills with green sage and then gray-green grasses, and white or cream-colored rock – it was a really lovely palette, colorway.
Finally we reached Woodruff (not Wisconsin Woodruff) and headed for the interstate. Not long after, we arrived in Fort Bridger. A really cute campground. They are vigilant about watering their grass, and they have a creek or a spring nearby, so it’s of course a mosquito breeding ground. We were eaten alive. Also, tomorrow a bunch of Airstreamers will descend upon this very campground; they gather here each year to retrace parts of the Oregon Trail, apparently. One day, that may be us. I’d come back. Pull-through campsites!
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