We woke up, hopped on the bike and headed off to complete our search for Gravity Hill. We found the exact route and followed the road the whole way, tense with anticipation of natural mysteries that would unfold before us at any minute. We got to the end of the road. It was a beautiful canyon, with plenty of joggers and a beautiful view of the city, but as far as we could tell up was up and down was down, just like anywhere else in the world. You want optical illusions? Go to the Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz and leave Gravity Hill to the joggers.
Since we've got the option, we decided not to ski on the weekends when we can help it, so after a perusal of the map we headed for Dinasour Country...Vernal in Northeastern Utah, self-proclaimed "Dinasour Capital of the World." We just couldn't resist the guidebook's declaration that you could still buy petrified dinosaur feces at most of hte rock shops in town. Besides, we figured we'd see lots of beautiful country along Highway 40 on the way east.
And a lot of the country was beautiful. Glaring white snow, rocky crags, and high desert country lined the highway. Snowmobile trailers also lined the highway...just as snowmobile tracks crisscrossed the easy-sloping meadows of white. It would not be an exageration to say we saw over 137 snowmobile trailers across a 40-mile stretch of asphalt.
Ice-fishing...Doesn't It Look Fun?
We came across reservoirs that contained clear water blue enough to make the Caribbean jealous. But before we dropped down to the lower altitude (5,000'), we saw a sight new to both of us: icefishers. The binoculars came out and the drill went down into the ice, pulling out a block of ice and snow about thigh-high. Little groups of fishermen were dotted around the ice. We could've been in Alaska for a moment.
We took a few turns off the highway where signs and billboards promised RV facilities so we could fill up and dump out, but the first three tries came up nil. Of course, the whole time we were asking ourselves why anyone would drive out to these boondocks to camp, but we trusted the signs, until finally one proved true.
Directions
"Get envelope from ammo box" was listed as step one in the dump directions. Hello, middle-of-nowhere. There was no office, just a few hookup spots and a dump with a stand with an ammo box and a slot in the pole. Apparently someone just came by every once in a while and pulled the money out of the post and refilled the ammo box with envelopes.
Whatever. It worked. Until we tried the water. Which was turned off for the winter.
Paying our Dues
We stopped in Roosevelt, just a few miles out of our destination, and did a little more maintenance. We washed the dirt and salt off the rig, filled up with water and fuel and cruised into Vernal around 4:30pm. Just in time to catch the matinee of Mission to Mars, set up camp and get ready for a Sunday filled with Dinosaurs and Desert exploration.
