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| CO-139 Northbound towards Rangely, CO |
Colorado / Utah Road Trip Day 4: Montrose to Vernal
The planned journey for the day was only a bit longer than the previous two days, but still a relatively short hop, compared with the test of endurance in crossing Kansas that first day. The approximately 320 km trip from Montrose, Colorado to Vernal, Utah should have only taken about 4 hours.
A couple of diversions, one somewhat planned and the other even less so, doubled that time as we wandered through a National Monument, a National Historic District, and discovered the odd beauty of the Uinta Basin.
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| US-50 Westbound near Olathe, CO |
Leaving Montrose relatively early, under gradually gathering cloud cover, we made good time west across the Grand Valley. The scenery was mostly unremarkable and again, very Kansas-like, so much so that for one brief moment my heart skipped a beat upon seeing an exist sign for Olathe.
If it were not for the town of Delta, and Grand Mesa consuming most of the background scenery, I might have needed to stop and review the situation more closely.
The Uncompahgre Plateau became much more visible as we approached Grand Junction, along with some rather ominous clouds. They seemed somewhat timid though, retreating as quickly as they had gathered, presumably in search of reinforcements. Indeed, other much darker accomplices lurked just on the edge of the horizon.
Weather is odd in this part of the country. One can sometimes quickly find themselves in a deluge, when it was a perfectly clear day only moments before. Certain that our mission into Colorado National Monument would come to a wet and muddy ending before it even started, we kept a wary eye skyward, in the hopes of having at least a few moments warning.
The sun faded in an out, causing the plateau to glow in brilliant array of sandy earth colors, and our excitement, as much. Maintaining course, we quietly passed through the southern edge of Grand Junction without incident. It was much like any other suburb on a Tuesday morning, excepting the odd biker and his bundle of daises.
Traffic thinned out to nothing as we approached the gate to the monument. Several folks were coming out of the area, causing it to seem as though we were going in through the Out door. Indeed, we were a little concerned with being turned away to enter from the north, as nobody else seemed to be traveling in same direction.
The Ranger waved us through though, and we quickly realized we had accidentally on purpose chosen the best route. Aside from the fact that everyone is traveling the other direction, all of the pull-offs are on the right side of the road, eliminating the need to cross traffic, offering a quick escape from the same. I suppose that if it is important to stop at the Visitor Center before all else, then coming in from the north is more reasonable.
Another good reason to in from the north may relate generally to visibility and safety while driving. It is nearly impossible to see much from a vehicle, coming in from the south. A perpetual fear of driving over the edge of a cliff kept us well focused on the task of driving, and the asphalt ahead of us, leaving no opportunity for viewing while in motion.
We paused briefly at nearly every stop along the way, getting out of the vehicle and wandering the cliff edges, marveling at the beauty of the canyons and the Grand Valley below. The situation was not much safer than driving though. While there are safety rails, they are not along the entire edge. It is imperative to keep wits about you at all times, lest you find the ground absent from beneath your feet.
My traveling companion could not be bothered with such details. She continuously danced perilously close to the edge, without a thought towards the relative distance between her and the floor of the canyon. On numerous occasions, I was certain she was doomed. All that it would take is one misstep.
I warned her repeatedly that, should she tumble to the bottom, I would not be making the trip down to drag her broken body out of the canyon. Plenty of wildlife lurked in the shadows, eager and willing to take on that task and divide it among them. I saw no reason to participate.
She only mocked my concern, as she continued to hop, skip, and jump her way across the treacherous territory. Somehow, miraculously she remained situated and able to continue the adventure.
The clouds were beginning to boil over again as we reached the Visitor Center. The weather had been perfect up to that time, but rain was definitely imminent. We could see clouds quickly racing towards our position high on the plateau. It would be rainy day in Grand Junction, but our path north and west looked clear.
Almost immediately, the rain started in, as we made our way down into the valley. It did not last long, and was not a particularly heavy downpour, but there must have been some sort of cause for concern. A lone Bighorn Sheep charged across the road about that time, racing for high ground, seemingly certain of a recurrence of the flood that made Noah famous.
The rain left as quickly as it had come though, leaving massive black clouds perched above the plateau, threatening to wash everything into the valley below. It advanced no further, and our course appeared clear for hundreds of miles, so we made our escape before the clouds could give chase.
It should be noted that one should never attempt to drive, carry on a phone conversation, and locate food, while traveling through back-to-back roundabouts. I can tell you from experience that you will accomplish very little beyond traveling in endless circles.
We must have passed back and forth over I-70 at least three times before concluding that a sign in the distance promising “Munchies” would have to suffice. It no longer mattered what we would eat, only that a clear and present sign offered hope in our escaping the incessant circular motion.
After a quick stop for sustenance at this semi-carnival like place, complete children running amuck, we were on our way. We only participated in the food portion. They did have a pretty good burger; although I am not sure I would necessarily go so far as to say it is the “World’s Best.”
Making our way north of Grand Junction, the stretch of roadway, as part of the Dinosaur Diamond Scenic and Historic Byway, turned again to another page from the book of Kansas. The landscape, littered with farms, and the occasional over-priced subdivision, unnecessarily redundant.
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| The Roan Plateau from CO-139 Northbound just outside of Grand Junction |
Just about the time we started to get bored with that scenery, it abruptly changed and we were rising up into the escarpment of the Roan Plateau. Indeed, and just about the time we started to become bored with that, we began winding our way through Sayles Canyon, with minor peaks rising in all directions.
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| Looking south from Douglass Pass on CO-139 |
Arriving at Douglass Pass, we were up on top of the world again, in full view of the valley we had come through to the south, and our intended path to the north. The pass is definitely a divide of sorts, perhaps for this particular geological feature only.
We started winding our way back down northward into that valley, and the scenery seemingly flipped from sub-Alpine to near desert conditions. With the scenery becoming dull to my traveling companion, she decided it was time to pass out in the passenger seat.
I found the transition and the new flat and straight deserted canyon road blissful in its abandon. The marks of society could not be found anywhere beyond the road. Semi-arid canyonlands offered the eye a multitude of distractions to keep the hum of the tires out of your head.
Breaking away into a long stretch of flat and narrow, the road introduced a sign of civilization. Although abandoned, the art of human origin all the same. We had stumbled into Canyon Pintado National Historic District, a construct and protectorate of the US Bureau of Land Management.
It was not on the map, had not presented itself through our meager research prior to the trip, and there had been no signs to indicate as much. The reasons would become more apparent with later research. It offered facilities though, and an array of signage explaining itself, so I pulled in for closer examination.
It seems the area was once home to an abundance of some of the oldest and best examples pictographs. Most are gone now, obliterated from the landscape by jealous artists, and careless tourists. It was beautifully silent there now, but not piece of art beyond the signage.
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| Looking North across Canyon Pintado National Historic District |
Exiting our vehicle for a stretch and a few minutes of reading, we took advantage of the available facilities and were on our way in no time. The pit stop had been mildly amusing, in its information, and capacity to jolt my passenger from her nap time. A couple of other travelers had come to spoil the solitude though, so we left while inner peace remained.
Arriving in Rangely around 2 pm, we only needed another hour or so to make it to Vernal, so decided to go in search of an odd little place we read about online called Fantasy Canyon. We should probably have gone on to Vernal. One would think that find something in the middle of nothing is a relatively easy task, but nothing is ever easy to find in the desert.
We had GPS and Google seemed to know the way, so we were not overly concerned, and detoured across the floor of the Uinta Basin floor and straight into Utah without knowing that we had even crossed the state line. That should have been our first warning. The only indication towards that end, we were on a flat, wide, empty desert basin.
Turning this way and that, we eventually left the County roads and began crossing mostly undeveloped gravel truck routes with no signage whatsoever. We were in the middle of nothing, and there was more surrounding nothing.
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| Looking across the Uinta Basin Floor in eastern Utah, near Bonanza |
We encountered the Bonanza Power Plant, and marked it in our mind for future reference, should things got too far out of hand. As a landmark visible for miles, it is likely the only life for hundreds of miles. Eventually, more signs of life became apparent. I think the area of Fantasy Canyon is some sort of oil or gas field, as the scenery soon became littered with pumping stations.
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| 032505 in Eastern Utah, near Bonanza |
Eventually we received guidance to turn down what it only called 032505. The naming convention seemed rather odd, but not entirely out of place in this area of desolation. A small tin shack sat at the intersection of these two paths, with a pickup parked outside. We were not entirely alone, which offered some relief.
Google finally told us to stop and park after passing a short half-mile down this path. Looking out the window, the scenery looked somewhat similar to the photos online, but then not quite as interesting. We got out and looked about, poking around some of the cracks and crevices. Most of the statuary seemed still under construction, and it was certainly of the same formation, but was not the place.
The day had been clear and perfect, up until this time, but the clouds we had lost in Grand Junction, suddenly found us again. They were bearing down on our position quickly, determined again to soak us through. The constitution of the area appeared as though it turned to a sloppy mud hole with the right amount of rain, so we decided to abandon the effort entirely.
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| Pronghorn Antelope crossing the road near Fantasy Canyon, UT |
As we were leaving, a local family of Pronghorn Antelope dropped by for a friendly visit. However, they quickly realized we were not from around there, turned their noses, and left without a word. The pick-up at the shack on the corner left too, and we were alone again with our fearless navigator, Google.
It took quite a bit less time to get back to the main road (UT-45), thankfully. Cloudbursts began dumping rain in random locations all around us in an effort to destroy evidence of our visit and block any attempt to return.
In collusion with the clouds, the State setup a roadblock on our route, under the guise of a repaving crew. Although, a road crew repaving a road that seemingly has no need for repaving is not very good cover; on the other hand, that is a generally typical arrangement.
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| Split Mountain |
After waiting in a mile of traffic for about twenty minutes, we finally escaped. Just over the next hill Split Mountain appeared on the horizon. We were nearing the end of another day.
We arrived in Vernal without further incident, undoubtedly in a world that coveted the dinosaur. A massive pink version of the same welcomed us, and everything had some sort of Jurassic tint to it. It was the least of our concerns though. Hunger was beginning to knock on the door again.
Quickly locating the little roadside motel we had booked for this occasion, we were pleasantly surprised it turned out to the best, thus far. A mini-suite of sorts, it not only had a bed, but also a comfortable leather sofa, and a television larger than any other we had seen in any other hotel.
Our mind was not on any of these items though. We put in a lot of effort throughout day, and hunger was escalating in intensity. Fortunately, we had passed the local Vernal Brewing Company that hosted dining too. Only a block away we were there in no time, relaxing with a cold local brew and some tasty food.
