Leaving Utah

After deciding against backtracking to camp at Cedar Canyon, the girls and I headed downhill from Cedar Breaks National Monument. The drop in elevation is, let's just say, quite swift. While negotiating numerous curves, four wheelers which I guess are now called "OHV's", and a LOT of condos in a place called Brian Head (I kid you not), I realized that the smell of burning brakes was coming from the poor old Ford. I geared way down and crawled back to the flat land of Utah, hoping to find something entertaining in Beaver. I had to go to Beaver, come on! Any graduate of Oregon State understands. You duck people can keep your comments to yourselves.

Unfortunately, by the time I got to Beaver, I was in the "must drive on, must drive on" mode and didn't stop other than to take this picture while traffic dodged me on the highway.

I had my sights set on a campground near Minersville, which sounded historic and promising.  Plus, the map showed a reservoir and I figured the dogs would appreciate a swim.  Unfortunately, once we go to the campground, we discovered that it essentially was a gravel parking lot with a section of fence providing a windbreak and scant separation from the next "site." Not only that, but the place was PACKED with people, all of whom seemed to know each other and look at my pickup expectantly as I crept through.  It appeared to be a family reunion of "OHV" and jetski enthusiasts.  The reservoir looked only slightly more inviting than a stock pond on the desert.  I made the snap decision to drive on, much to the annoyance of the dogs.  I have no pictures of the place, but the expression on Tate's face once we finally did stop for the night might be enough to register what they were feeling.  I call this her unhappy wombat face.

On we drove, hoping to find someplace level and quiet to throw down the tent.  If the wind had not been howling, I would have chosen a piece of dirt off the highway outside of Milford, Utah since I was getting delirious with fatigue at this point.  But, as the windfarm in Milford attests, it's a breezy spot.  We gassed up and I snapped a few pictures.  This first was a place across from the gas station.  Times are rough in Milford.  The combined cafe-jewelry-lapidary-taxidermy shop was closed down.  Can't say I would eat in a place that might have a motto of "If you can't wear it or eat it, we'll stuff it!"

 It could have been the road fatigue getting to me, but I also found this humorous. Looks like people in Milford have a knack for multipurposing a space. They also have an interesting aesthetic for paint jobs.

Through the long afternoon we drove, not finding anything suitable or attractive.  Finally I looked at the map and said "Screw it.  Girls, we're going to Wheeler Peak."