US-89 Day-3 "Parade Day Across the Land"

I left the campground at 7:00 am. The temperature was in the mid 50s, which is interesting since that is about 50 degrees lower than what I was experiencing in Arizona. There was little traffic as I snaked up the 89.  At one point I ran into a 4^th of July parade, which forced me to take a detour through the back roads of the town. I noticed that there are some really nice old housed in Utah dating from the 1800s. Most have been well preserved. I saw a number of these homes as I meandered through the town. 

I took my mid-morning McDonald break. Harold (fabricated) and his wife were sitting at the table next to me.  As always, somebody must talk to me.  It was Harold’s turn. Harold asked “Were you in the parade with your motorcycle?” I told him I was not and was just passing by. He asked where I was from and I told him Orange County. Harold told me was born just down the road but he had raised his family in the Semi valley.  Harold said “When I arrived in semi valley 40 years ago there was just 1,000 people and only 1 stop light. Now there are hundreds of thousands of people and all the traffic in the world. “.  Harold was on an oxygen tank but that sure did not stop him from talking. Harold asked “where you going to?”  I told him I was heading to Illinois via Montana. Harold then said “When I was 18 a bunch of us guys jump on the back of a pickup truck and took a trip up to the Alaska bay, and we were on a ship. Then we went to Montana and back home. All together it cost me $47 dollars, and that included the ship and food.“ Harold’s wife, who up until this point in time had her back to me turn around to me and just smiled.  Harold got up, and on the way out said “have fun while you are still young”. The last I saw of Harold, he was loading his oxygen tank into the rear set of the car, while his wife started the car. 

I continued up the 89 until I got to the Salt Lake City region. The Salt Lake city area is just so huge, I found out that It is even bigger than I had previously thought. It took over 2 hours for me to get from one end to the other. I almost had to fill the gas tank a second time because it took so long. 

My new GPS software on the iPhone was driving me crazy. At one point in the middle of Salt Lake it told me to get of the highway, where I was going 80 miles per hour and go to a smaller road that had a 40 mile per hour limit and stop light every block. I figured that there must have been an accident so the system re-routed me.  I was a bit skeptical. Later on when I got back on the same highway, the software once again told me to get off. This time I protested and went to another app. I wasted so much time going to illogical roads. 

After being fried in the heat for about 2 hours in Salt Lake City I grabbed a cool drink at the 7-11. Walking to my bike, Bill (fabricated) yet another admirer stopped me and asked about my bike and where I was going. Bill told me that he owns a trucking company that has a location in La Canada.  He rides a Harley, of course and had all kinds of ideas as to where I should go in Wyoming. We talked for about 20 minutes.  Nice guy that has ridden many places locally. Bill went on to tell me that when I got to Yellowstone that I need to get a book in the store that describes how people have died in Yellowstone over the ages. Bill says the first person to die was a young man that dove Olympic style into the geyser waters after his dog, had fallen in the waters. Bill said his son read him the diver story while he was driving in the car. Evidently, the young man’s eyes where immediately boiled as he dove into the pond. They pulled the man out but he only lived another 18 hours. Bill did not say what had become of the young man’s dog. I thanked bill for the information on Yellowstone and high tailed it out of Salt Lake City. 

I continued up the 89 until I got to the Guinavah-Malibu campground. There were a million people coming down the mountain, so I was a bit concerned that there could still be a couple hundred thousand up in the camp grounds. I stopped at a forest service campground and asked if they had space. The guy said yes, and I could go and pick out one that was not taken.  There are 35 campsites here and I have yet to see one where there are people.  Nobody is at the camp ground. I am by myself, with the exception of a bunch of flies and mosquitoes. I only see one car come into the campground the whole time I am there. They take one look at me, and the bike and turn around. I have a very quiet and enjoyable time in my campsite by the edge of the rapidly flowing creek.