Sunday, March 22 (Durango, CO to Moab, UT)

Sunday morning, we woke up at JT and Eve's, and they took me to the Durango Diner. We met Gary, the owner, who moved from New York in 1975 and bought the place in 1980. We each had the famous Cure, a pile of hash browns topped with cheese, bacon (or chorizo), eggs and green chili. It was fantastic. After the brunch, we took a walk down the blue ribbon fishing river that happens to run through downtown Durango. I like the town more and more with every word someone says about it. I forgot the camera, but great scenery and conversation ensued.

After the walk, JT and Eve had to return to their lives, and I had to keep moving westward. We packed the truck (after JT gave me a power steering box "in case I needed it in Alaska.") I really can't say enough about how friendly, encouraging and generous everyone in Durango was. It was and will be a highlight of the trip, and I will keep up with those guys, both at Cruise Moab (big land cruiser get together in late April (yes, I'm going to try to make it) and later on.

The drive from Durango to Moab was interesting.

Back to the plains


It turns out that tumbleweed is not just a made-up movie effect, for when Clint Eastwood is about to kill someone. It's real and it's everywhere. This guy was racing me for a little while.



The wind was strong enough that I had to keep my steering wheel at crazy angles to keep going straight. This was especially fun when you went through hills (they cut straight through hills for the highway) where there would be no wind (but you can't predict where on the road the wind cuts out), causing you to veer wildly to the left and then recover. Between my legs is a thermarest. I realized about 1500 miles into the trip that while I had taken care of virtually every aspect of the truck, I can actually feel the springs in my driver's seat. Sweet. I'll swap my driver and passenger seats, and if that doesn't help I'll likely buy a seat in SF.


The sky started to look a little ominous as I got closer to Moab.


Turned out to be a pretty wicked dust storm, with winds up to 50 mph and generally a lot of grit in the air, in my hair, eyes, nose, truck, etc.


Putting up the tent was a challenge, but I finally got it up and went to bed with this view of the Moab valley: