Wow! Today we drove the longest distance of the whole trip, 242 miles from Springville, Utah to Ely, Nevada. And it wasn't because we drove faster, longer, or more determinedly. We cruised at or usual 55 or 60 miles an hour. And it wasn't because we never stopped. This morning when we got to the Utah town of Delta we pulled into a vacant blacktop area, parked the rig, then set off on foot to explore part of the town. Then, hours later, in Nevada's once thriving community of Ely, we once again parked the rig, this time in a nice shady spot, and walked the full length of downtown -- in two directions.
Having done all that, we still arrived in camp about 4:00 p.m. after stopping for gas and groceries. The only explanation I have is that the resident photographer didn't spend the entire day jumping in and out of the truck to take photos. Only once, when we had followed Route 6 into the semi-ghost town of Eureka, Utah, did I just have to stop and capture a photo of the 1950s Hudson that was languishing in a derelict-looking garage.
There were other photo ops that tempted me, like a couple of early gas stations in Utah, and a whole forest of wind turbines in Nevada. But either there was no place to pull over, or there were cars right on our tail, and I was unable to stop. I did take a few photos on our two walks for the day, and those photos will have to suffice for today's blog.
Most memorable was the absolutely fantastic city park in Delta, Utah. Both Concetta and I thought that Delta's park ranked right up there with the finest parks we've ever visited. From the hundreds of blooming flowers, to the masterfully-done fountain and faux stream bed; from historic log cabin, to the super cute bronze statues of children reading, the park looked like a place you would just like to wander into and not leave for several hours.
From http://www.visitutah.com/places-to-go/cities-and-towns/delta I learned that "The town of Delta (known originally as Melville), got its start when the Melville Irrigation Company obtained rights to divert water from the Sevier River Reservoir. Because of the rich rock, mineral, and fossil specimens in the surrounding desert, Delta makes a great home base for rock hounds, gemologists, and crystal gazers. Delta is home to the Great Basin Historical Society Museum, as well as the Sunset View Golf Course. Other nearby attractions are Fort Deseret and Little Sahara Sand Dunes, an ATV-rider's destination par excellence."
From http://users.gavtron.com/millardcounty.com/deltahist.html I learned that: "The earliest settlements in the West Millard area were in the towns of Oasis and Deseret, settled 1860; Oak City, 1865 and Leamington, 1871. By 1876, Hinckley was settled. The idea of securing land to farm on the great stretches of level desert in the vicinity of what is now the city of Delta, was very strong in the minds of some of the people of Oak City years before any settlement was ever started at Delta."
"Some of the land on what is now known as South Tract, had water so near the surface that if alfalfa could be started it would sub-irrigate and grow without further irrigation. It was thought that water could either be pumped out of the ground or a small reservoir could be made across a ten-mile hollow to catch enough rainfall to start the alfalfa."
"With this idea in mind, in the summer of 1903, Frederick R. Lyman, Edward S. Lyman, Joseph S. Anderson, and E.L. Lyman, Jr., made a trip from Oak City to the land near the ten-mile hollow, about five miles southeast of the present site of Delta. They traveled in a white top buggy and took along some home-made drilling equipment. After drilling a number of holes, they found the water to be about ten feet from the surface which was regarded too far for sub-irrigation, so the scheme was abandoned."
"After suffering a number of years of drought because of a water shortage in the Sevier River during the summer months, (although there was a large stream in the winter and early spring), the Deseret Irrigation Company in 1902, filed on all the surplus water of the Sevier River. They began building a dam to hold the surplus water but before much work was done it became apparent to the promoters that the job was bigger than they could manage without outside help. They talked of selling part of their interest to others who would be willing to help complete the dam."
"Frederick R. Lyman had an idea that some of the water could be used on the level land of what is now Delta. With this in mind he, Bishop Peter Anderson, and E.L. Lyman, Jr., Callis Lyman, then a boy, (all of Oak City), made another trip in the summer of 1905 to look over the feasibility of such a project. They were pleased with the land and the conditions were favorable for diverting the water at its present site through a canal."
"After this trip, the Millard Stake presidency, consisting of Alonzo A. Hinckley of Hinckley, Frederick R. Lyman of Oak City, and Orvil L. Thompson of Scipio, called James A. Melville on a mission to investigate the water rights of the Deseret Irrigation Company and to find out if the title was clear and safe for a number of settlers to purchase and use the water. Mr. Melville's report was favorable and soon after, the Melville Irrigation Company was organized with Frederick R. Lyman as president and Orvil L. Thompson, secretary."
"The Irrigation Company and the proposed town was named Melville for James A. Melville, who investigated the water rights and gave valuable assistance in the organization of the irrigation company." A convention of the citizens of Millard County was called by James A. Melville and held in Fillmore. March 24, 1906, to discuss utilizing the waters of Sevier River by building reservoirs, canals, etc. James A. Melville was later elected chairman. A.A. Hinckley made a motion that the new town being contemplated should be called Melville and that the new irrigation company should be called the Melville Irrigation Company. (From the first minutes of the Melville Irrigation Company.)"
Unlike many of the towns with small populations that we've explored in the last three months, Delta looks pretty darn prosperous. If you're in the neighborhood, be sure and stop in and visit their city park.
We had an interesting thing happen today as the clock approached the noon hour. We were climbing out of the lowlands around Sevier Lake, Utah and the truck engine was roaring for at least forty minutes as it powered up the long, steep grade, we started to smell something funny. I recognized it as something akin to hot antifreeze, perhaps escaping from a split radiator hose or similar malady. But at times it also smelled like something burning.
Just about then we crested the pass which informed us that we had just climbed to 6,200 feet. Seeing a turnoff on our right, I quickly steered off the road and stopped. Then, since there was lots of room further away from the highway, I backed the rig up a small hill and stopped. At this point the smell of something hot or burning was quite noticeable so I popped the hood release button, and went up front to take a look.
Once open, the hood offered all the proof I needed that there was no squirting antifreeze or other liquids. But, just to be sure, I also looked on the ground under the truck. Once again, no dripping or spraying liquids could I see. Leaving the hood open and the engine running, I went and opened the coach side door and removed the fire extinguisher from its rack. Then I opened each of the lockers, one at a time, and "smelled" the interior. A couple of the most rear lockers seem to have accumulated the same "toasted" antifreeze smell, but I could see nothing untoward going on.
At this point I figured that the engine was just a little hot from the climb and nothing was malfunctioning and nothing was on fire. The temp gauge on the dash wasn't too different than I was used to seeing, either. Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned off the engine (it had been running with no load for about ten minutes) and, leaving the hood open, I went inside to have lunch.
It was while we were eating lunch that we suddenly heard a hail from outside our window and turned to see a middle-aged blond woman standing there. "Hi," Concetta said (she was next to the open window).
"Is everything alright," she said as she held a hand over her eyes to shield them from the brilliant sunlight.
"Oh, we're alright," Concetta told her. "We just overheated a bit."
"Well, we just spent the last couple of hours trying to fix a flat on our fifth-wheel and no one stopped to see if we were alright. When we saw you, we thought we'd better check."
"That's so nice of you," Concetta said. "Thank you very, very much."
Of course at this point we proceeded to get better acquainted with our would-be rescuer. We told her we were on our way home from the east coast, and she told us that she'd always wanted to do that. Then she told us that they owned a motor home at one time, but her husband wanted to change to a fifth-wheel, but that she hoped they'd get another motor home someday.
And we asked her about her tire problem. And she told us that they just couldn't get the lug nuts off since they'd been put on with an impact wrench. And I asked if they had one of the old-fashioned "four-way" lug wrenches. And she said they did, but it wasn't strong enough. And we asked about where she was headed. And she said she was coming from her husband's gold mine near Oceola.
After that we thanked her again for caring enough to stop, and we all wished each other a good journey, and we went or separate ways. Once again I was just amazed by the kindness of strangers.
And then there's the "other" strangers.
When we'd done our walk, and then gassed up the rig in Ely, we stopped at a local supermarket and parked way out at the edge of the parking lot as we normally do so that we don't inconvenience other shoppers. We were only in the store about twenty minutes. When we were set to leave, and had paid for our groceries, I remembered something I had forgotten to pick up. I gave the keys to Concetta, who headed for the RV to unload the groceries, and I went back in to pick up the forgotten item.
When Concetta reached the RV she discovered that a couple of teenagers had parked their compact car so close to the shady side of the RV that it was hard to walk between the two. Now there existed about two hundred spaces closer to the store, so they had for some reason elected to park far away as we had done.
"Maybe they were trying to take advantage of the rig's shadow to keep their car cool," I suggested to Concetta, when I arrived a short time later.
Concetta said, "No, they were acting very suspicious when I arrived, like they'd been casing the RV for an open door or something."
I gave Concetta my grocery item and went around to the side where their car was parked. At this point the two kids had disappeared somewhere and were nowhere to be seen. I checked all the locker doors to see if I had properly locked them after I had checked for fumes when we stopped at the top of the pass. I had. I could see that the truck cab doors were locked, as we always go through a "locking ritual" each time we need to leave it alone somewhere.
I knew the gas cap was not a locking one, though we have one on board should we need to leave the rig alone for an extended length of time. A quick check of the gas gauge proved that no gas had been siphoned. I suspect at this point that the two kids, perhaps being in dire financial straights, had been looking to take advantage of an unlocked RV where they could grab a few items and be gone. And, of course, maybe they WERE just looking for a patch of shade for their overly hot car. I'd like to believe the latter were it not for Concetta's feeling that they were acting "suspicious" when she encountered them. We won't ever know for sure.
Our biggest thrill today, as far as our sense of artistic appreciation goes, is the many hand-painted murals that adorn various and sundry wall surfaces in Ely. I tried to take a photo of all of them, though Concetta tells me that I missed the very best one depicting the Ward Charcoal Ovens, an attraction that is located near the eastern border of Nevada.
In closing I must extend an apology for last night. For some reason my brain just would not produce a blog on the topics that I had decided upon. Perhaps the subject of my family's westward migration was just a little too daunting for the hour of typing I usually devote to the process. At any rate, let me encourage YOU to try your hand at blogging when you hit the road. And when you do, be sure and give me the address. In the meantime, we wish you Happy Travels!
