Day 5 -- Green River, Utah to Cortez, Colorado -- 166 Miles

The shady Acres RV park in Green River turned out to be first rate by our standards. How do we rate "first rate?" Well, first of all it has to have an immaculent laundry room. Not having significant laundry to do, we were not able to gauge our item number one. But the rest of the list is as follows: the park should be far enough off any busy highway to avoid incessant road noise; the spaces in the park should be comfortably far enough away from each other to make noise from our fellow campers insignificant; there should be a concrete patio where you access the rig; all the utilities should be up to date and not present a hazard in their use; the sites should be as level as possible given the terrain; pets belonging to our fellow campers are kept quiet and on leashes; and access to trash collection points is clearly marked and not a football field's length away.

Naturally, trees and grass and other ornamentals are always nice, but the possiblity of such luxuries is always dependent on the age of the park, the local climate and water restrictions, and the location and elevation in the country. We've been in all types of camps from heavily treed to no trees in sight and have had a good time in each. We don't even mind graveled sites if kept up with fresh applications of gravel once in awhile.

This morning our main goal was to visit the John Wesley Powell Museum in Green River where we turned out to be the first guests of the day. Since neither Concetta nor I had ever studied the life and exploits of Powell, we were completely surprised and charmed by the level of expertise with which the museum's founders and docents had presented Powell's life and exploits. But they didn't stop there. No, many more of the noted men and women who had subsequently made the trip down the Green and Colorado rivers were just as effectively displayed, explained, and celebrated.

Though Concetta and I chose not to become intimately acquainted with the whole fraternity of river-running figures in history, any reader out there who counts river rafting and boating as one of their passions has all the material available should they choose to visit the museum and learn about the lives of these river pioneers, even to the extent of viewing the historic wooden boats in which they often made river-running history.

Starting in May of 1869, Powell and his companions were the very first to navigate the Green River down to the Colorado River, then all the way through the Grand Canyon. Amazingly, they did it in wooden boats, three made of oak and one of pine as I remember. They had no waterproof clothing. They wore no life jackets. They simply hoped that they had enough grit and determination to see the job done.

The men put in on the Green River in the state of Wyoming and at first things went pretty smoothly But as they began to encounter increasingly rougher white water rapids once they reached the Colorado, Powell's companions started to feel just a bit uneasy. When one of the four boats was dashed to pieces against some heavy bolders in a series of rapids, several men began to speak quietly of hiking out of the canyon and not completing the trip

After several days of such discussions three men finally decided to leave, one of whom had been on the shattered boat and had desterately clung to a mid-stream bolder until rescued by another boat. Sadly, none of the three who were last seen climbing out of the canyon, were ever seen again and were probably slain by Indians.

It took Powell and his crew about three months to make the whole run successfully. They did it without any loss of life, save the three who abandoned the river-running effort.

After our museum visit and a brief pause in the gift shop, the Happy Wanderers jumped in the waiting RV and set our course for the state of Colorado. Our intended camp for the night was to be in the town of Cortez, Colorado, just a short distance from the famous and fabulous Mesa Verde National Park. Mesa Verde is near and dear to us as we visited this one-time home of the Anazasi cliff dwellers on our very first southwestern vacation back in 1977. I had known Concetta for less than a year when we set off in her mechically "struggling" 1964 VW bug which sported a top speed of 40 miles per hour.

We had had her VW serviced in Carson City and the mechanic had pronounced it "good to go." However, we only got as far as the first town east of Carson City and the brake pedal linkage fell apart and I had to effect a fix beside the highway. Thereafter, the little car steadily fell apart as we drove. I had to re-time the distributor in Flagstaff, Arizona. We nearly lost the right front wheel just west of Albuquerque, New Mexico. And, in Los Alamos, New Mexico the engine was running so poorly that I thought we'd have to hitchhike home.

But somehow, some way, the little car brought us all the way back home to Carson City without further incident, clocking some 2,400 miles in the process. Later we would sell the VW to someone in our neighborhood so we could buy a used washer and dryer set. The buyer paid us the princely sum of $300 and promptely came back the next day and demanded at least $20 of their money back since the battery had gone dead overnight.

Since Mesa Verde is right on our way to one of our destinations on the far side of Colorado, we're going to drop in and see the museum at the top of the mesa tomorrow. It's amazing to think that it was been forty-five years since we were last there. Back in '77 we did all the cliff-climbing calistenics that the average tour involves, including climbing hand-built timber ladders and crawling into cliff dwellings on our hands and knews. I don't think we'll opt for that much exercise tomorrow, especially since my knees spend all their time now complaining to me about my many miles of hiking in my younger days.

Today, as we motored through the spectacular desert that encompasses Arches National Monument, we were treated to some of the most spectacular sandstone cliffs and bluffs that we have seen on any of our sojourns across America The light was a little dull for taking great photographs, but we did manage to stop and take a few snaps once we had passed through the hussle and bustle of the Arches park area.

Both of us were totally AMAZED to see the huge crowds of unmasked visitors in the town of Moab, the connection point closest to the Arches monument. It sort of reminded me of all the photos I've seen of Spring Break on the Florida coast. Everywhere you looked people were buying supplies and renting off-road vehicles and thronging all the shops and sidewalks from one end of town to the other. I told Concetta that if you wanted to own an Air B&B rental that would make you filthy rich, Moab certainly looked like the ideal place to buy one.

For our part, all we did is find a place well outside of town to buy gas and find an empty parking lot to have lunch. Even so, the ATVs, dirt bikes, and ORVs buzzed by us every few minutes. There was one thing about the place we chose for lunch, right outside our window was the most intriguing wildflower patch that I had seen on this trip. The flowers were a bright orange with velvety green leaves on straight soft green stems. I just knew that the plant would look great in our rock garden, so I spent much of the lunch hour over my sandwich and coffee determining just what plant I had found

Turns out the flower is called a Sphaeralcea Munroana, according to Wikipedia, which is a "species of flowering plant in the mallow family known as the common names of Munro's globemallow and Munro's desert-mallow. It is native to the Great Basin and sourrounding regions. It grows in sagebrush, desert flats, and mountain slopes." Well, I thought, that sounds perfect. I even saved a few cuttings in an old water bottle.

After the run from Green River today, amidst some of the most beautiful sandstone canyons and lofty mesas in the world, we arrived here in Cortez, Colorado just about the time that our book on DVD about the Wright Brothers finished. We considered that wonderful book by David McCullough one fine piece of work. David told the tale so effectively and so humanly that by the book's final chapter we had come to regard Wilbur and Orville as members of our family. Though we were taught the rudimentary facts about the Wright Brothers in school, neither of us had any idea of the trials and tribulations that the two suffered in their efforts to bring the age of flight to life. The genius of the two is unassailable and their dogged determination was nothing short of heroic. Concetta and I both wholeheartedly recommend the book on DVD to you if you can get your hands on a copy.

To replace the Wright Brothers as our rolling entertainment, I dashed into a book shop that we stumbled upon just after reaching Cortez and purchased the DVD version of Mobey Dick. I guess that will keep us busy for a few days, eh?