8-3-2018 Hurricane, UT

In the 1860s, Erastus Snow, LDS Church Apostle, was traveling through this area when gale force winds blew the cover off of his buggy.  He likened the winds to a hurricane and declared, “We’ll call this place Hurricane Hill.”  Then, it became known as Hurricane City and now, simply Hurricane.  The locals pronounce it, “HURR-ah-kin.”

The Mormon settlers in the area knew that the key ingredient to their survival was a reliable source of water.  But the Virgin River was undependable, sometimes a trickle and other times a raging torrent that washed away entire settlements.  They wanted to build a canal but those who investigated and surveyed the project said it was impossible, that is, until James Jepson and John Steele brain-stormed.  They agreed:  the impossible takes longer, let’s get started.  (As Michael J. Heney of the White Pass and Yukon Route Railroad once said, “Give me enough dynamite and snoose and I’ll build a railroad to hell.”)  The project was begun in September, 1893.  There were no finances, of course, but the eager farmers wanted the canal badly and volunteered their labor in exchange for a plot of land.  It was difficult and discouraging labor (in the winter because they had to work the fields in the summer).  Many times the violent Virgin River would wash away a winter’s work or a landslide would bury it.  As a result, it took 11 years, until 1904, to complete the canal and then, a dam had to be built to channel the errant river.  They just would not give up, these indefatigable souls.  Eventually, the dam was also accomplished and thousands of acres of land suddenly became lush and fertile.  People began to move by the thousands to the area and lived in tents and crates.  

The first home built in Hurricane in 1906 -
Rob at the Bradshaw home

The first house was built in 1906 by Ira and Marion Hinton Bradshaw and still stands in the city.  The second, also standing, was built by Thomas and Wilhelmina Hinton.  Both families were instrumental in the foundations of the town.  By 1910, there were 336 people living in Hurricane.  And the rest is history. 

The second home, the Hinton home,
also built in 1906

There is an historic museum here where one can methodically trace, through the rooms and displays, the history of the growth of the area.  In one room, mostly Navajo artifacts are on display, in another, quilting and crocheting relics and in one display case, a wedding cake which is developing its own claim to fame, even on the net.  Originally, this cake was 4 tiers.  Apparently, it was too beautiful to eat and so stood on display in the family home for years.  It is said that it was preserved by the raisins that were in it.  Time to order a gross of raisins!  There are original handcarts and wagons outside in the park and I wished they could talk.  One was used by the “Dixie Peddlers,” who traded cotton and food crops.  (Cotton grows well in southern Utah and it was nicknamed, “Dixie of the West.”  Currently, the pc nuts want Utah to get rid of the “racist” name, “Dixie.”  Utah says, “Not a chance.”  Yay, Utah!)

Navajo moccasins from 700 AD

Wedding cake from 1907

The bride and groom,
Joseph and Emily Scow

Original "Dixie Peddlers" wagon

Handcart used by the Mormon emigrants
(Call me silly, but I probably
wouldn't walk from Chicago
to Hurricane, Utah.)

Bee at Willow Wind RV Park

We were parked once again beneath the path of the red cell of a storm.  However, the beautiful park is nearly a forest of mature broad leaf trees and so we were hunkered down under their fluffy, dark green canopy and felt safe.  The thunder, lightning and rain were startling through the night but this morning, the sun rose in a sky of blue.  Next stop:  Red Rock Drive.

A wonderful trip!  We clocked in at 2,200 miles in Bee and about 800 in the Jeep.  Bee was our champion, she never blinked.  What a heroine!  A few types of seafood met their demise in the last five weeks:  Pollock, walleye, calamari, shrimp, clams, mussels, mahi mahi, tuna, salmon, octopus, scallops crab, cod, catfish and perch.  And who can forget the red meat?  Steaks sliced right off the hoof and mutton.  Paella, tapas, sauerbraten, wienerschnitzel, ceviche, margaritas, fine wines and local brews, the list goes on!  A gastronomic extravaganza!  We saw and learned much and met up with many wonderful, kind folks.  And here we are, at home.  Bee is proud.  The Jeepster is proud.  We are relaxing with a cold toonie.  Till next time, we send cheers and love to you, our friends and family! 

Bye for now!  Lindy and Rob

7-31-2018 Monument Valley, UT

Sign in the bathroom, “Please do not overfill the toilet.”  Huh?

12-hour slow cooked mutton stew.  YUM!

In Bloomfield, NM, at the Farmer’s Market Grocery I found mutton!  We’ve never had mutton!  Well!  I bought some chops and we did them up same as we do lamb shoulder chops.  They were quite tough.  But I wasn’t about to give up.  The following day, we went back and bought a mutton roast with the intention of throwing it in the crockpot for several hours.  Well, after 6 hours it was still quite tough and required an overnight in the fridge to pull off a lot of fat.  Six more hours the next day and finally the meat was brought around to tender.  The veggies were added, the broth was thickened to gravy and bazinga, mutton stew, enough for 3 nights!  And if I may pat us on the back a moment, it’s delicious!  (Btw, blindfolded, you’d think you were eating beef.)

Monument Valley KOA

This campground, Monument Valley KOA, is such a stripper, bare-bones place that we immediately regretted our scheduled, bought and paid for, 2-night stay.  That was premature.  Just a few miles south across the border into Arizona, we found Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park.  A brief explanation of the geological history of the land formations claims that this area, submerged beneath the oceans (specifically the Gulf of Mexico) 570 million years ago, emerged when the two continental plates collided.  The seas subsided through the cracks and slowly the sandstone that made up the ocean floor was swept away by erosion over thousands of centuries.  What is seen today are the hard, core, “organ rocks” that remain.  It takes several hours to drive through the park because at every turn, a more magnificent monument than the last appears, each with its own name.  Why I have lived 70 years without seeing a rock formation that looks like a camel and suddenly in the last few weeks I have encountered two remains a mystery.  It was a day of adventure well spent.

Rob at The View Restaurant in Monument Valley

Camel Butte.  (You gotta admit, it does look like a camel.)

Lindy and some BIG rocks! 
(Look carefully.  It's the chick
in the orange shirt.)

Lindy and Rob at Thumb Butte

West Mitten and East Mitten Buttes (I call
them Left Mitten and Right Mitten.)

With nothing to do, no phone and no internet, we broke camp early this morning and by 10 AM we were on our way to Hurricane, UT.  I’ll admit that I am a little leery of a place named, “Hurricane.”  It was a very upsy-downsy, windy leg of the trip.  My palms were sweaty when we finally arrived.  But it is a beautiful, shady, grassy park and we are settled in with a toonie.  This is our last 2-day stayover before we hit the dusty trail for home.  Our homing beacons are screaming.  But you never know, there could be another story or two in my fingers.