Adventures in Western road-tripping

So, Captain Midnight got a cell phone.

I'll pause to let that sink in.

Yes, he's finally been dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. (Though to be fair, this isn't the first time he's had a cell; a previous job in Oregon required him to have a cell phone, but he had to give it back to the company when he moved on.)

I have to admit, though I am generally opposed to carrying a cell phone due to privacy issues, it is a pretty snazzy little piece of equipment -- although admittedly not the best tool for the job when it comes to posting comments online from the front passenger seat of a moving car, as previous posts have shown. Instead I put the phone through its paces by taking about a bazillion photos on its camera while we were driving to and from Utah for Christmas vacation.

I beg your indulgence by showing you some of the better images.

After many days of traveling through rain, snow, slush, salt and gravel, our new-ish car was looking much the worse for wear.

This in no way daunted the intrepid Captain Midnight, who also patiently bore up being obsessively photographed by his obnoxious wife.

Miss V was a little less understanding. Most photos of her on this trip have this same deer-in-the-headlights look.

This derelict building may be the most photographed structure in northern Utah. (This isn't the first time I've snapped a photo as we roared by.) Located near the small town of Honeyville, it has been the go-to place for friendly local graffiti for as long as I can remember. I have no idea what the original building was used for, but these days it's become a community bulletin board. The most common messages found here are welcome greetings for homeward-bound LDS missionaries, as this is part of the route from the Salt Lake airport to Honeyville and surrounding farming communities. (There have also been a few "will you marry me" messages painted on the ruin.) I think the local police turn a blind eye to the practice as long as the graffiti remains obscenity-free.

Long stretches of road in northern Utah (and, to some extent, southern Idaho) look like this. Straightaways to the horizon, rumpled and folded mountains in the distance.

There's also unexpected beauty, like this open field where the partially buried dried grass stalks create the illusion of a golden snow.

EXTREEEEEME DUTCH ANGLE! (Yes, at this point I was getting rather silly.)

The Intermountain West still has its share of ghost towns from the frontier days, but far more common are single structures which appear to be abandoned. I'm not sure whether this was a little farmhouse or just an outbuilding, but it sat forlornly by the roadside in rural southern Idaho. It makes me wonder who built the place, whether the family is still in the area, what happened to the people who were once here.

Most lived-in farmhouses look more like this: a modest-sized to large home surrounded by similar outbuildings, ringed by trees (partially for shade and partially as a windbreak), often with bales of hay stacked outside for the livestock. This particular farm seems to be more prosperous than its neighbors, based on the size of the house.

Not shown here, because we were having too much fun to take pictures: an evening spent with Carrie, my dear friend and kindred spirit from college, her husband, family and doggie-girl. We were lavishly fed and put up. Their awesomeness knows no bounds. :)

Day 2 of our trip. Welcome to Oregon: Speed 65. Le sigh.

(Tune: "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You")
♫ The Eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg are upoooon you! You can-not get a-wayyyy! ♫

I'm such an English nerd.

While I may not care for Oregon's idiotic speed limit, there are some other things to like about it.

Frozen stretches of the Snake River, for instance.

Or snow-covered crags.

Or the likely location of a Home for Wayward Skaters.

Look out! Mountain!

Getting over the Blue Mountains was a bit scary (a four-car pileup along the route and some icy road conditions), but very picturesque.

Including the fog and icicles on the way down.

Eventually we made it back to Washington...

...where, apparently, there is no snow.

Well, OK, maybe a little.

All right, smart people of the world, I want to know: what was this building used for? It has some sort of ramp above it, which makes me think of a granary, but it's also half-in and half-out of the ground... which makes me think of hobbits, actually. What is its purpose, other than to look picturesque?

Here's a more typical-looking American farmhouse.

The home of Aplets and Cotlets. I thought that antique fruit was wine by definition.

Then we got stuck in a huge backup from an earlier crash over Snoqualmie Pass. Bleah.

Eventually, though, we got home and are now happily ensconced there. We returned to lots and lots of Christmas cards and letters...

...and a very rich gift indeed: a beautiful old suede-bound copy of a Washington Irving book that made me swoon.

(Thank you so much, wonderful Gretel!)