Utah or Bust… through the Rockies!

Up early again and fueled by coffee and a McDonald’s breakfast, it was time to load the dogs, and point their convoy westward.

From Nebraska into Colorado and another call to Shari, they could almost see the mountains now.

With Denver just ahead, the Rockies were in plain view. From Denver, they were just 60 or so miles from the famed Eisenhower Tunnel… the highest vehicular tunnel in the world at over 11,000 feet. This would officially take them through (rather than across) the Continental Divide.

Now they were on the western side of the Continental Divide, where all the drainage would point to the Pacific Ocean.

Just west of Denver, the weather had turned quite sour on them, with “slushy rain”. That terrible stuff stayed with them all the way through the higher elevations. After that, it was rain clear into Utah. Who’d have thunk you’d run into this kind of weather in August.

Somewhere along the Glenwood Canyon, with Bev driving the Avalanche… the trailer got in a huge hurry to get to Utah. As she was watching the trailer skid along side her left rear tail light, it was all she could do to correct it’s path.

After a quick underwear change at the next rest stop, it was someone else’s turn to drive as Bev took time to recover from her near disaster. Just as soon as they had a cell signal, Cindy called Shari to let her know they’d nearly lost the trailer.

Time out for fuel, refreshments, and a “doggie out” in Grand Junction before pressing forward to Utah… just twenty miles west.

Cindy, who’d never seen much in the way of mountains was in total awe of the beauty and mass of the Rockies. With each turn and slight change of scenery, she’d take another picture.

Would you believe that within less than 180 miles, they had dropped from the “top of the world” at the Eishenower Tunnel into Grand Junction at less than 5,000 foot elevation. No wonder the trailer was in a hurry.

With only 340 or so miles to go, they once again pointed the convoy west, towards I-15 and Cedar City. There they would spend the night at yet another “dog friendly” motel.

As if the drive hadn’t already been tortuous, I-15 was under construction most of the way. Here it was, dark, rainy and now they had the “orange barrel brigade” to keep them on their toes.

It was late, very late when they reached Cedar City. Luckily they had called ahead for reservations. No time for anything but to fall into bed, totally exhausted from the marathon drive, yet anxiously anticipating the next day.

Remember, they had never seen their new home in person.

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