Day 2 - March 20 - Boise - Salt Lake - Moab

After taking advantage of the free breakfast we reloaded our overnight gear and were soon back on the road. The clouds were higher today, but still stretched out before us culminating in a similarly threatening dark gray wall on the distant horizon with areas of low brown clouds between, the source of which was soon to become apparent. It began with strong winds buffeting us as we raced down the freeway that ran through a high desert plateau towards distant mountains. Then the tumbleweeds began to awaken. At first just a few bouncing amusedly along the margin of the highway between the shoulder and the boundary fence. In no time they were joined by others, larger and larger in size. Soon the bouncing, rolling brown bodies were no longer content to stay on the shoulders and began invading the freeway lanes. Some raced alongside us as if hoping to overtake us, while others crossed suicidally into the lanes. There was no hope to dodge and swerve the intruders - we were all moving too fast and there were simply too many. For the next hour the invasion continued, soon decorating the front grills of many a car and truck. We continued across the dry landscape toward the brown clouds whose origin was now obvious. The same wind that drove the tumbleweeds to self destruction was whipping up dust storms. Visibility waxed and waned as we made our way across the dry landscape and eventually into expanses of irrigated land. where we left the tumblers and dust behind, though the wind continued to drive us. Midday we decided to take a side trip to Twin Falls to see the famed Shoshone Falls on the Snake River. Once at the Falls an information sign revealed the source of water for the irrigated lands that earlier in the day had previewed the end of the dust storms while also explaining why so little water was actually running over the otherwise dramatic cliffs in the high walled canyon that envelope the “falls”. For years now water has been diverted above the falls for agriculture and raising stock, transforming the landscape. Meanwhile, the historic photographs and signage painted a picture of what the “Niagara Falls of the West” once looked like. Still the water-worn cliffs hosted a diminished stream that dropped hundreds of feet into deep pools of water below - the uppermost reach of the salmon runs on the Snake river - while the perpetual wind whipped volumes into mist before they could ever reach the bottom. The highway gradually left the irrigated plains and wound its way into the mountain ranges of southeast Idaho where fresh snow highlights on the hills and mountains enhanced the views. Every turn of the road revealed new vistas more beautiful than the last,every exit from the SUV was met by the same blistering wind. As we got closer to Salt Lake City the gray descended once again. The tops of mountains on all sides of the highway were obscured in clouds as rain, sleet, and snow flurries blurred our view. Our plan of a side trip though downtown Salt Lake was abandoned except for refueling and a coffee. When asked if this was normal late March weather, the barista replied - “Yeah, first it gets all warm and springy for a couple weeks and then, bam! It starts to snow again.” We pulled out of Salt Lake determined to make a stop on our way home later in the week. The last leg of our day had us in Carbon County driving a two lane highway paralleling a railroad line in a narrow canyon that cut through mountains of uplifted sedimentary rock. Some signage at a pulloff informed us that Carbon County had been named for the coal mining that once fueled its economy and the country. Butch Cassidy had even robbed the Mining Office that once occupied the roadside view point. The location had also been the site of deadly mine explosions that had killed over a hundred miners - now memorialized by the roadside plaque. As the road dropped out of the canyon and out onto the plateau on the other side, so too did the sun set behind the mountain silhouettes behind us. The final hours of our drive moved from twilight into dark. Dark outlines of ridges paralleling the roadway hinted at the sites that awaited us as we finally arrived in Moab and emptied the car for our five night stay at the Comfort Inn.