First stop was Pendleton, OR. The area is known as the high desert, with cooler temperatures at night and low humidity. Just your basic campground populated by prison guards. Stafford found out from the owner that they find it more affordable to park a trailer rather than rent an apartment as they tend to transfer often. The things you learn when you ask questions!
Pendleton, OR |
Next stop, Salt Lake City, UT, which meant a stop at Salt Lake itself. Staff was able to spend an hour or so kitesurfing. My plan was to simply walk around the park, but then I saw the jet skis for rent.
Staff and I have often observed that it truly is the "wild west," where caution is thrown to the wind, and people seem generally less concerned with safety rules and regulations. My jet ski experience reinforced this notion.
First, the guy gave me what I considered an all too quick lesson in how to operate the jet ski. Throttle? Wait, what does that do? Next, he told me to go slowly out to the buoy, then circle back and give him the "thumbs up" sign to let him know everything was running OK. When I circled back, he was no where to be seen. I guess he had confidence in both me and the machine.
Off I went and had a ball all by myself flying over the waves. Going against the waves resulted in a lot of slamming against the water. So I tried driving with the waves, where I found myself getting doused by a wall of water as I hit the trough of the wave. Then I tried riding perpendicular to the waves. That seemed to be just right.
Later when I returned, I called out in a nice sing-song voice "you-hoo!" hoping the guy would come out of the rental shack to help bring me in. The jet ski had to be hooked up to a large clip on a rope, which in my opinion was a 2-person job. Again, he was no where to be seen. After a few more urgent cries for help, I jumped out in water over my head while trying to swim and drag the jet ski to the rope. Somehow I managed to pull it up the rails, clip it and lurch out of the water, stumbling from the pebbles stuck in my flip flops. When I finally found him on his cell phone in the back of the shack, I thanked him and paid for the gas I had used. But he knew I was mad-yes, he knew!! (It's been pointed out to me that I have a habit of being nice and over-tipping people who provide terrible service and expecting them to know how disappointed I am.)
View from jet ski on Salt Lake |
Salt Lake |
Staff kiting on Salt Lake |
Lake McConaughy in Ogallala, Nebraska |
Spill-way that empties surplus water from Lake McConaughy into the lower level Lake Ogallala |
I've become a fan of sleeping at rest stops and Wal-Mart parking lots once in awhile. However, after a long day of driving I am willing to fork out the dough for a real campground with hot showers and electricity.
After 116 hours in the car at 13.5 mpg (Staff wanted me to include some hard data in the blog) we arrived home, just over 3 weeks on the road. Doggies and humans slept very well that night.