We stopped at one interesting rest stop in Iowa, which I didn't think to photograph. It fascinated me to learn that Iowa rest stops all have wifi-- evidently for truckers, but what a great concept! This rest stop also had some really nice architecture, a beautiful childrens play area, and a native plant area. Makes most of our California rest stops look rather sad. It'll be interesting to see how the two near Camp Roberts on 101 will turn out once they are finished.
Since we were traveling on Sunday afternoon and evening, there was little traffic and we whizzed through Des Moines and west. We got to North Platte around 9, and searched for a hotel further from the freeway. That worked: we got one with wifi, breakfast, and which cost less. It was shabby but clean.
As on our eastward trek, the second day was the most interesting. Once more we were traveling through Wyoming. This time, as we approached the Continental Divide, it began to drizzle. The temperature began to drop, from the 40s into the 30s. Then the rain turned kind of slushy, as if it were soft hail. Temps dropped to 28, and the next thing we knew, we were staring in disbelief at snow-- falling sideways! The snow seemed as if it were so dry it wasn't sticking to the windshield, and it blew around on the road as if it were sand. The nearby trees began to take on powdered sugar, and I dragged out my camera.
After being snewed on, we got into open territory after crossing the Continental Divide again. I began to notice patches of pink flowers alongside the road, so we stopped for a driver change and flower photo. The flowers grow in low bunches, and I'm not sure if the darker pink ones are the immature ones and the whiter ones the buds, or vice versa. They are definitely the same plant, which has almost a succulent feel to it. Very pretty.
There aren't too many big towns from the Snowy Range to Salt Lake City; we didn't begin to look for a dinner stop until we were over the border into Utah. But it seemed the few towns along the road had no restaurants. Finally, close to 7:30 PM, we stopped at a little town whose (only) restaurant name should have been memorable- but it escapes me (was it Cindy's?). It proudly proclaimed itself famous "since 1930" for its fried chicken. Normally I avoid anything fried, but there we were-- and it smelled heavenly. Well worth it. They skin the chicken, and the coating is crisp, delicate and not greasy. Just right!
Once again we drove straight through Salt Lake City to avoid commute traffic the next day. This time we found ourselves near the airport, with no indication of any motels past it. We ended up at a Super 8. Generally those aren't luxurious, but this one has to compete with business and airport customers, so it was really nice. A full breakfast was offered. There was a pool and exercise room, but of course we didn't take time to use them. I'd definitely stay there again though.
Final day-- we didn't get too far away from Salt Lake City until we stopped at a rest stop. We hadn't seen this area by daylight, and it was the Bonneville Salt Flats. That was fun to explore. They are brilliant white, and the salt is --surprisingly-- as hard as concrete! An interpretive sign lets you know that you cannot see the end from the beginning of the 7-mile long test track, due to the curvature of the earth. Amazing sight. Just for scale: that stick figure is my tall friend Dave, dwarfed by the landscape.
On the way home, our drive was enlightened by some of Mark's purchases- bound volumes of the Inland Printer, a printing publication for many years. The passenger would comb through the thick volumes and read amusing excerpts to the driver. One article was entitled "The Composing Stick as Paintbrush," and the design photographed below was its illustration:
