This past Sunday, I really did go for a ride. From last week's missive, I still had the Desert on my mind. I did think about heading up Parley's to play in the Wasatch Mountains, “where the gods of the Ute's slept in the cool of the day”, but I knew the Tour of Utah was ending and that traffic might be a problem. I therefore headed west on I-80, the wind was persistent the whole ride, but fairly moderate in its velocity. At the Toole Grantsville exit, I stopped and topped of my tank, so that I could do the rest of the contemplated ride without having to stop. I got back on I-80 westbound again and proceeded till the Rowley Dugway exit. One can't think of Dugway without also thinking sheep. An old line ranch family I know has some large holdings in the Dugway Valley where they winter sheep. It it known to have a fairly mild winter there, mild being a relative term. Compared to Woodruff and Randolph Utah, it is down-right balmy, but then anyplace has a mild winter compared to those two places. About ten to twelve miles from the junction is the sign for the ghost town of ISOSEPA, which mean Joseph in Hawaiian. In the 1880's some Polynesian converts to the LDS church began to come to Zion. At first a large number of them settled in the North Salt Lake area. They were discriminated against by both the local merchant's and population and were not allowed to stay in the Hotels in Salt Lake City. It was determined that they needed to be relocated. All the choice parcels around the Salt Lake Valley had been spoken for by various individuals and entities. Any way, what they ended up doing was taking these people who for generations had lived someplace where the temperature does not vary a whole lot, and they moved them to a place, so remote, that it made the middle of nowhere look convenient. Temperature from around 90-100 in the summer to well below zero in the winter and wind almost all the time. What were they thinking! It was a typical early joint-stock type company, and the inhabitants were nothing but indentured servants. At some point they had a sort of arbor day and planted over 500 trees of various kinds, including a large orchard. The inhabitant's worked very hard, make it bloom like a rose, even won a beautification award, but it was never successful economically and in the late 1890's they even had a few people get Leprosy, which didn't make them any more acceptable to their neighbors in Grantsville, Tooele, and made their excursion's to the Temple Square not as enjoyable as it should have been. Once the church had built a Temple in Hawaii, the whole place cleared out and it became a Ghost Town. Recently there have been some excavation work done out there to see what artifacts might have been left.
A few miles down the road, I go past the Goshute Indian Reservation, where the tribe wants to store nuclear waste that is so hot, it makes the operation of Energy Solutions at Clive, look like a place it would be fun to camp. Enough said. I did notice that on either side of the reservation there were farms with green field's and fairly new equipment. Perhaps a low interest rate loan could be arranged to help the Indians do the same.
A few miles later I hit the end of the road, paved where there are three options. One: is to take the dirt road to Simpson Springs , Fish Springs and beyond, two: Have the necessary papers to get admitted to the Dugway Proving grounds. What we are proving I don't really know! My father did some electrical work at Dugway and once told me this story. He had a contract to wire a tower. Their was a large platform at the top and in the middle it was clear. The contract called for electrical boxes and a small platform about every five feet from the top to about ten fee above the ground. He had no idea what it was for, until at a later time his contact person told him that it was used for the following activity: At each five foot level, there were camera's mounted facing to the opposite side. There were also strobe lights at each of these platforms. Rabbits were injected at the top, with whatever, and then dropped down the middle of the tower, at each level a picture of the rabbit was taken. This also gave them a time line and what they learned was how long, after a rabbit was injected with this or that, it took for the rabbit to die. Needless to say, there was probably never a rabbit that was alive by the time it hit the bottom. You will be glad to know that the Dugway Proving Ground alarm poles scattered throughout the Dugway, Rush and valley South of Stockton, now have solar collectors to power them! What a Country!
At the junction there is also a large LDS Stake Center, both to serve the ranches in the Dugway and Rush Valley's and also the people who reside at Dugway. The reason the building looks so large, is that there is nothing around it. The third option which I chose and which was one of my destinations, was to head east toward Johnson Pass and Rush Valley. I have always ridden this road, East to West, and wanted to ride it West to East. For a road in the middle of nowhere, it is fairly well maintained. After I pass the summit and could see in the distance Rush Valley, there was a truck and trailer in front of me that advertised inflatable Bouncers, JohnnyJumpups for all kinds of events, indoors and out. What they were doing at just before noon on a Sunday in late August, I have no idea and probably don't need to know.
As I hit the junction with highway 36, I wasn't ready to head home, so I turned south on highway 36 till I hit the little hamlet of Faust. Years ago I had an eerie experience in Faust, where my Dune buggy just stopped running. I checked the ground on the battery, knew I had fuel, but I couldn't find anything wrong. After about five or so minutes of poking around, I walked back to the exposed engine and with a screw driver, shorted out the starter against its housing and it started up. It never did that again. I also had a girl friend in the mid 1970's who's last name was Goethe and was a direct decedent of the poet. At Faust I took the bypass road, which I have always heard called the Pony Express trail East where it reaches a junction with highway 73. From there I road through Fairfield, Cedar Valley, Cedar Hills and of course Saratoga Springs. Every time I drive there I can't believe the growth, especially when you consider that Utah has a hefty number of properties in foreclosure. I have read the population projections for this whole quadrant and it boggles the mind. Where are these people going to work, all of them can't make big bucks over the Internet while working at home! In the future I am afraid that everywhere from Provo to Ogden is going to be part of a giant conurbation, a word I just learned, a continuous urban community, made up of smaller entities that retain to one extent or another their individual identities. I am glad that it will be when I am no longer a functioning carbon entity.
I turned north on highway 68 to enter the Salt Lake Valley and after meeting up with I-15 I rode the rest of the way home. Today's ride was 188 miles. I got home well before the wind picked up, causing roads to be closed, cars to roll over and my power to be out till Monday morning.
