Cokeville Wyoming

After U-Dig I was supposed to go dig up some fossil fish with Fossil Safari so it was decided to get closer that night. I was dubious. I drove far into cow country and mile after mile there wasn’t a house or a town to be seen, just cows, cows, and more cows. I was hypothesizing I’d be sleeping aside the bovines for the night, especially after a “Rest stop” I passed turned out only to be an outhouse (with no toilet paper or soap) and a picnic table surrounded by cow pastures. I was quickly learning just how much this country loves beef. There are cows EVERYWHERE all the time. Finally I reached Cokeville, and saw a Pilot’s truck stop. The parking lot was empty as could be. Aside from the music blaring and the bright lights the place seemed to be deserted but then again I suppose a town with only five hundred people would always deserted.

In the morning when I went to use the restrooms one of the attendants gave me a fierce scowl, for what reason I’ll never know. Perhaps it had something to do with the half and hour or better she spent staring at the Jeep with her co-worker from their steps. I slinked off. Coming out of the Pilot’s was no better. A cop immediately came from nowhere and pulled me over. I was absolutely confused as to why. The cop came over and in a very rushed and aggravated voice he asked for the license and registration. Looking at the license he then asked what I was doing in town and where I was going, and why. I got the feeling I was being watched and the locals around here are less than welcoming to interlopers coming through. I wondered what could cause such abrasive behavior and possible paranoia. Was it the fact I was wandering through parts of the country notorious for fundamental Mormonism? Who knows. I wasn’t even given enough time to take out the registration before the cop threw the license back, made up some cock and bull story about how you’re not supposed to “shoot out onto the highway” (I’m pretty sure us normal people would call that merging) and told me to keep going. It was weird. The day wasn’t going to get much better…

I drove and drove and drove out into the middle of nowhere to find this damn quarry. As it turns out the address programmed into the GPS was on the contact information page of the quarry because the actual quarry address was not listed anywhere. This isn’t normally a bad idea except when the address is actually the people who work the quarry’s home… two hours away…. 200 miles off course… and after passing another site I really did want to visit (Fossil Butte National Monument.) One tank of gas and half a day down….

***UPDATE: Further research has let me know that Cokeville Wyoming may have had reason to be so unwelcoming. In 1986 it was the sight of the Cokeville Wyoming Elementary School Hostage Situation and Bombing. Sooo…. strangers aren’t particularly loved there…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 26, 2011 0

Jeep vs Fallen Tree – Rochester NY

Rochester New York was an interesting place to visit.I had been there visiting before but this was to be with friends and I didn’t get to see many of the sights of the city – ‘least you could the road they affectionately call “Drive By Shooting Way.”

At first I ended up on a group lunch date of sorts with some of the aforementioned friends. They were insistent on going to Moe’s, a burrito chain restaurant with killer food. I must say they were all very cheerful and friendly people, all smiling and laughing and having a good time.

I wandered off after this to explore the city a bit and ended up at a salt water fish store. The place was a windowless business with a wrought iron door, outback of some real businesses. No business sign was anywhere to be found and the door itself looked liked either a loading dock or else some other utility door the public shouldn’t be using. Still, the insides were just as amazing, if not more so, than the last time I’d been here. Along with their gorgeous coral and salt water fish they added a rare fresh water fish collection which sported the most unusual fresh water fish I’d ever seen. They were all vibrantly colored and so healthy!

From here I went to a record store which had so many neat things. I was out of cash and couldn’t buy anything. It’s a shame too as they had a bunch of records I had been looking for since getting my turn table, that I had never seen before. Oh well. I’m sure I’ll eventually find them somewhere else too. The record store was actually in an old mill they were converting into a mall. It had bizarre little stores and shops and a gallery atop it covered in fish and sea creatures as well as some other fantastically odd sculptures. I took photos and awed for awhile. Despite being a mall I couldn’t help myself from whispering here. It was as quiet as a library and I felt like I needed to be using my “inside voice.”

I still had some time to kill so I went to Rochester’s historical cemetery. Frederick Douglas and Susan B Anthony were buried here as well as a lot of other famous Rochester personalities including its founders, politicians, poets, and artisans. I parked next to a little boarded up cathedral and I got a weird spooked feeling. I got out of the car and walked to Susan B Anthony’s grave. Despite being dead for a mere 105 years someone was still leaving flowers on her grave. I probably would have left some too had I just happened to have some posies on me. She was after all a pivotal figure in the woman’s suffrage movement and an advocate of women’s rights. Another passerby asked us where Frederick Douglas’ stone was before being pointed in the right direction. It was only a minute after I heard an enormous CRACK! WHOOSH! THUD! It came from the direction of the Jeep. I started to walk over there to see what had happened. As I was walking a man from below the hill yelled, “Did you see that?!” “Yeah I saw it!”

When I got to the bottom of the hill the damage was evident. There under a massive branch lay the Jeep, it’s roof compartment completely busted open with a leopard print snuggly puking out of it. I however was not the only one to suffer damage. A man on a motorcycle had just driven up when he heard the crack. He dove off his bike and under a utility truck, suffering a few scrapes and bruises. His bike on the other hand was crushed, lying beneath a limb, pinned to the ground. It reeked of gasoline.

I looked at the Jeep and hoped none of the windows were broken or the engine damaged. I wanted to be able to get home. The woman we had directed towards the Douglas stone was back with her husband and daughter. She was a teacher from Vermont and wanted to know if it was my car who had the unfortunate parking spot. Yes.

Her husband called 911 for us to get the firemen and police out here. I took a few photos and was standing aside when a second thunderous CRACK was heard overhead. I ran back as another giant branch fell directly on the Jeep, another park of it crashing into four or five grave stone and knocking them over as if they were just bowling pins.

I called 911 again to try and get the firemen out here soon as a third branch was hanging from above by only a thread. 911 put me on hold, twice, once after calling, and a second time after I refused an ambulance and said no one was hurt. When the firemen finally arrived they sectioned off the area with warning tape. The police were there soon after to make a report and in a few minutes Jacklyn the Jeep was being uncovered and eased out of the parking spot. The passenger side’s fender was dented in badly and had to be sledge hammered in order to open the door without ruining it. The roof sustained a large indentation, the roof container was completely obliterated, the hood was crushed in and sliced down the middle. There were scratches galore… but the Jeep started up and ran and none of the windows were busted. I was more fortunate than I thought I would be.

I drove to Casey’s apartment, an old friend who said I could stay with him for a night or two. Just as we drove into his parking lot the Jeep died. Within a matter of a minute the air conditioning had stopped working, the engine over heated, and the battery died. Upon closer inspection I learned that the tree fell on the hood with such force that it crushed the air cleaner resonator and broke off the alternator. I called the insurance company. They told me that since we didn’t happen to have comprehensive insurance they would not cover any of the bill. The only thing they would cover was a rental car, which they would only give me after we’d checked the Jeep into a mechanic with the money they weren’t giving me. OK, so if I’m understanding this right, they were not going to cover any of our bills because the tree picked a fight with the Jeep, however if I picked a fight with the tree, they would have been fine paying for that! UGH.

I now had a full tank of gas, a broken Jeep, and $30 in my wallet to get home, more than six hours away. Things weren’t to remain gloomy however. Several of the other former coworkers pitched in to McGyver the car back together with duct tape, a piece of Tupperware, and some super glue. The Jeep was again running, this time with a great deal of added character. To make things all the better a pot was passed around the office and $100 was raised to help in the effort to get back home.

Dinner was a party and I ate very well. Everyone was smiling, laughing, telling grand stories and funny office anecdotes, and just generally having a good time. I had a wonderful visit, was helped by a great deal of wonderful people, and was on my way, tepidly but surely.

Also a big thanks to everyone who did pitch in! I couldn’t have gotten home without you!

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 22, 2011 0

Jeep Breaks Down – Plymouth Indiana

I was on my way to Michigan, to a Dutch store, when the Jeep finally decided to give me trouble. It was really only a matter of time before something had to go wrong. Today was exceptionally hot, in the high 80’s, and the Jeep decided to throw off it’s serpentine belt like a string of Mardi Gras beads, leaving aside the highway before overheating and dumping some sort of metal wheel from the engine. The steering went whack and the Jeep was no longer functional.

It was a Sunday in mid summer so although AAA was called it would be a more than two hour wait standing aside a cornfield dying of the heat before someone showed up.

He was a big guy and sweating profusely. I was worried he might have a heart attack or something. He looked so uncomfortable! But once he was in the truck he seemed to be doing better. He talked to us and we told him what we were up to. He was sweet enough to call around to find a place that was likely to have the part I needed so I wouldn’t end up stranded for a week. The mechanic that AAA had initially told him to go to wasn’t even open on the weekends. So it was a 30 minute drive to a bigger city. He told me about Notre Dame and pointed out Touch Down Jesus as we drove by. He said he had two kids and that football here was huge. I thanked him as I walked into Sears.

I was set to deal with an old man who had taken the call earlier. He looked gloomily at the engine, three others did the same. They were all quiet, too quiet, and no one would really tell me what was going on. I got the distinct feeling that the Jeep was on some sort of life support and I was about to be asked to pull the plug. Eventually he said that it was an easy fix but he didn’t have the part, and that he couldn’t find anyone who did. He insisted it might be Tuesday or Wednesday before the car was fixed which was not an option I had. I was already just scraping by with the few pennies I had left. I had no money for a hotel or a rental or anything of the sort. Perhaps I’d be sleeping in the park tonight.

Eventually he asked if the guy had tried calling Advanced Auto Parts which we had already driven by. The guy said he did but they weren’t answering and must be closed. He said most of the places around here closed at 2:30. What? I had never heard of such a thing, mechanics having the same hours as a high school… and I grew up in a family of mechanics! All of them stopped working when the sun went down, only because of the dark, otherwise they’d be open even later. One of his coworkers heard the conversation and said, “They should be open! They’re usually open until 8 or 10 PM.” By now it was 4PM. He called again. This time they picked up and he proceeded to order an $85 serpentine belt which I knew should cost $35. He got a cheaper one. In the end it cost $230 and took an hour and a half to fix. I was soon on my way and driving towards Michigan, a state I had no real desire to experience — you see every person I have met in my life from Michigan has been a total bastard, people who are out to just fuck with you for no reason. I have talked to others who said the same thing – everyone they met from Michigan was someone to be avoided like the plague. Now maybe I just had a bum deal and met all the bad apples fleeing the state but I was more concerned I hadn’t and that there was something about Michigan that made the souls of many of its citizens rot at the core.

I ended up in Kalamazoo. I skipped the Dutch store and settled for a gas station where everyone was rude and odd. I left as soon as I could.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 16, 2011 0

KOA Campground – Santinella CA

My next stop was supposed to be San Francisco but I wasn’t particularly thrilled about the idea of arriving in a large city on a Sunday so I took some time for a little R&R at a KOA campground instead. I needed a good rest and some uninterrupted sleep anyway. Waking up when the Jeep reached boiling point every morning was not really the best way to sleep. Besides I was trying to camp since Yosemite but they were full and the Big Sur grounds were just too bizarre and expensive to figure out.

The KOA campground in Santinella was expensive too, $27 a night, but they had water, electricity, full bathroom and showers, a 24 hour Laundromat, as well as some extras including a game room, wi-fi, a public porch, a communal grill, and a pool. I was due for doing some laundry and getting a shower, the rest seemed great too.

Arriving we found the park full of RVs but very very quiet. The most activity I saw were the hundreds of ground squirrels dashing for cover when I drove in. Apparently this was squirrel metropolis. The people who were around all seemed to be old and owned little yappy lap dogs. Still, since I was the only tent I found a fairly secluded spot near the Laundromat and next to a horse pasture. Pitching the tent was easy this time as I was not battling explosive bursts of wind and rain like I had on previous occasions.

I wasn’t about to let the pool go to waste. No one seemed to be using it which was odd, it’s not like it was filled with baby barracuda like that awesome little beach in Key West… No barracuda, more toes spared, it was a win win. I spent the whole day splashing to and fro and realizing just how out of shape I really was. There was no one else here. The woman working there said sometimes children would use the pool on weekends but that was the majority of the activity it saw. I didn’t end up doing our laundry or getting a shower… and I slept in until noon, so I had to renew for another day anyway… it was a pleasant place. I had a firepit and some Wal-Mart wood and cooked turkey dogs, potatoes and onions, and macaroni and cheese on it. My neighbors found me ever so cute for using the fire for macaroni and cheese but trust me, at this point Mac and Cheese was a feast for kings!!

I swam for another long stint, getting even more sunburned than the day before despite being covered in sun block. It must have been expired or something as we both got burned, of course I got much worse so. Everywhere the bathing suit wasn’t covering got lobster-red. And people wonder why I am against bikinis… in any event some good old Aloe Vera and we were back to that whole laundry and shower thing. The shower was the first hot shower I’d taken in a public place. I was intensely grateful.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 13, 2011 0

Tuba City – Arizona

So I woke up in the morning in the only travel station in Tuba City, which was swamped with unseemly people since I drove in the night before, mostly rebellious and randy teenagers, probably sick of their podunk little town. The night before a wild mustang wandered into the city and walked right by the Jeep without a care in the world. Stray dogs were everywhere.

I had quite a few hours to kill so I decided to drive and see the petroglyphs that my Navajo dinosaur guide recommended the day before. I ended up driving a looong way down a road that looked like it was used mainly by horse travel. The Jeep bounced and groaned and I wove my way deeper into a little village I probably shouldn’t have been in. I passed two people and asked for directions but they spoke little English and didn’t seem to know the word petroglyph or why two lost white people would be wandering around which to be fair, is a good question.

Finally I came to the fence with the little opening I had been told was there, watched by two video cameras I’d also been warned about. I walked in, and low and behold there was indeed a rock sitting at the front absolutely covered with intricate little designs. I was taken a bit aback, not expecting that much. And then something odd happened… out of nowhere a man appeared from behind a rock and asked, “Do you have a permit to be here?”
“Permit? No?”
“Well you need a permit to be here…”
“I was told by a Navajo up at the Dinosaur Tracks place we could just see the petroglyphs…”
“Well he was wrong!”
“But… why would he say that?”
“Because he was probably intoxicated!”
“…So who are you?”
“I’m a Hopi. We take care of the land here. The Navajos weren’t protecting it so we took over.”
“…Soooo how do you get a permit?”
“Well, you can pay $150 for two to see the petroglyphs. The fee would be for me as a guide.”
“…Well I don’t have that sooo… guess I’ll be going…”

There was another hiker behind me who came out when I did. He muttered to me, “I guess that was that!” I replied, “mmmhmmm.”

I was confused for awhile about the whole incidence. I wondered why two tribes would be fighting over a set of petroglyphs from a completely different (and extinct) tribe. Later I learned that the Hopi claim to be the desendants of the Anasazi, who I had always thought were wiped out centuries ago by migrating Aztecs. This was a bitter and bloody time period, from before the time of written records. I guess that’s why it’s all still a bit hazy… In any event the Hopi currently hate the Navajo as they are favored by the US government, who have granted then Navijo Nation, a large swath of land they can do whatever they want on. (“Here, have a token piece of land while us white people take the rest. THANKS!”) The Hopi have only recently received any land, and coincidentally it was a little block right in the middle of Navajo territory, surrounded on all sides. I might be a bit cranky too. I’m not sure why the Navajo have gotten away with so much out of our stingy “oops-didn’t-mean-to-do-that” government, but I think it probably has something to do with how they helped greatly in World War II, giving us code talkers (based on the Navajos unwritten language) who the Nazis were never able to decipher.

I left. And continued on to a market to have breakfast, or lunch, o whatever it is I normally eat. Entering the store a smiling middle-aged Navaho man stopped someone ahead of me and asked, “Where you escaping to?!” He was thoroughly confused. “Your shirt looks like a prison outfit.” I couldn’t help but interject. “Ohhhhhhhhh… I don’t know…” I did my shopping and ended up in the cashier line with the same man who smiled cheerfully and said, “You have a good day sir!”

Then when I was out in the parking lot an old man approached and tapped weakly at the window. He wheezed, “Where you headed to?” He needed a ride to Seattle. I weren’t going in that direction anyway. I gave him $3 for a Gatorade so he’d at least be comfortable waiting for another ride. I was on the phone with my mother when another knock at the window came from my side. It was from another Navajo man, grinning like a Cheshire Cat he greeted me with the strangest statement ever, “I LOVE white people! Just wanted you to know that.” I nearly started to laugh wondering where the hell this was going. “I’ve done prayers for the health of some white people before. I gave them arrowheads for their prayers. I wish I could give you two an arrow head I’ve made…” “Awe?” I couldn’t resist saying awe even though I got the vibrant feeling this guy was a flimflam man, possibly the best. He continued his story. “Anyways, I live down on a farm down that way. We grow corn and beans and a bunch of other things but 25% of our crop just got washed away.” (Indeed there were forest fires and flooding washing a great deal away in this vague area.) He went on with his story adding all sorts of useless details, eventually ending with, “And I need to bring my daughter to the hospital. She’s five, has chicken pox, and we don’t have the money for gas…” I gave him three dollars as well and he left, saying, “God bless you! God bless!” I pondered which god that was… and felt $3 was worth the long, rambling, crazy story. I’ve given a few bucks to beggars who have done much less. At least this time I was thoroughly entertained. Surely that must be worth something.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 21, 2011 0