Mutual Of Six And The Fabled Land Of Eyedahoe

The carpet guys are here putting in almost the last step of the remodel. A little more trim and painting and we'll be done. Hurray! While we're waiting I'll post about our trip.

The first thing to keep in mind about us and trips is that Lu and I are weird. We both love to travel but hate to sleep away from home. That means short trips and fast turn arounds. In that vein we decided to go North on Monday. It was a sudden decision that went something like this.

Six: Want to go somewhere?
Lu: Sure. Where do you want to go?
Six: I don't know. North?
Lu: Ok, let's go.

And with that we were off. Left the house about noon and pointed the nose of the big Ford up I15. We'd never been as far as the northern Utah border in a vehicle before so that became the goal. North of Salt Lake City and then see.

The mountains were still pretty snow covered. Beautiful country.

Just north of SLC we decided to visit the Fabled, Ancient and Lost City known as Pocatello in the distant and unexplored land known as Eyedahoe.

Though the prospect of traveling through such a savage wilderness might have intimidated some we had a fierce guard along to protect us. He's a killer, that one.

Gorgeous but full of danger for the unwary. The rest stops were filled with strange carts called 'Winnebago's' who's inhabitants wore colorful clothing known as 'Bermuda Shorts'. They seemed friendly. Too friendly. Sensing danger we gave them a wide berth and pressed on.

Angus as always was alert and watchful.

Riding shotgun was the always reliably deadly Lu. Isn't she cute? Don't be fooled by that angelic face. Inside that soft exterior beats the heart of a born killer. This is her war face. Aarrgghh! Frightening.

We finally crossed the border into Eyedahoe and started across the untracked wilderness proper. We were frightened. What unknown and hidden dangers would we encounter?

For about a 10 mile stretch we saw herds of animals the locals refer to as 'Foud', 'Dinner on the Hoof' and 'Quick Larry, get the Rifle'.

I will admit to some urges to stop and 'collect' a sample for the biology department at The University of Six to study but time and good sense convinced me otherwise. Though the presence of a native tribe member called a 'Game Warden' didn't help.

Lu is also a sort of native guide. Though she has never been to this area before her grandmother was born and raised in a village called Malad. An uncouth name for what is surely a backward and primitive area. Since Lu speaks the native dialect I asked her if she wanted to stop in and visit the locals. She declined citing the presence of a tribe called the 'Moremanz'. They apparently eat dishes such as 'Funeral Salad' and 'Funeral Potatoes'. Clearly a tribe of cannibals. We passed by and continued on to our destination. The fabled lost city of Pocatello.

About 2000 hours local time we finally reached our goal. We had found the lost city after braving the dangers and Mini Marts of that howling wilderness. The inhabitants greeted us warmly but were frightened by our cameras. Something about capturing their souls and our inability to get their 'good side' so no pictures were taken. We found lodging with a villager in his hovel he called the 'Comfort Inn'. Angus pronounced the lodgings adequate and settled in for a chewie and a nap. He was on guard all night though as the sounds of some other travelers on the floor above kept him on edge. (Yes. Before you ask those are in fact my toes). They were apparently engaging in some sort of ritual that involved dancing elephants trying to stomp holes in the floor from the sounds of it. Angus was not amused.

The following morning my eyes snapped open at 0200 hours. I roused my two sleepy and very grumpy companions and after a meal of 'Donuts' provided by a village vendor we were off on our journey home. After another trip fraught with bad drivers and junk food we arrived back at Casa Six safe and sound barely 24 hours after our epic journey began.

All in all it was a wildly successful pilgrimage to the fabled land of Poetahtoes though we failed to discover the legendary Poetahtoe Graveyard. A mysterious place where the Poetahtoes are said to lay to rest their dead. We anticipate another journey to explore further and perhaps even interview some of the savage inhabitants as soon as more funding can be procured. I'm thinking government grant.

Six

Day Trip To Mountain Meadows

I finally got the fence boards installed (post next week). It looks pretty nice but I'm shagged. Lu and I decided it was a fine day for another day trip in Betty. Destination? Mountain Meadows.

The Mountain Meadows Massacre was the killing of 120 men, women and children emigrants from the Baker-Fancher party out of Arkansas in 1857.

The area is just north of St. George near Enterprise, along the old Spanish Trail.

When we got to the lot and short trail to the overlook and Memorial Site we noticed it wasn't exactly crowded.

Betty looks nice though huh?

The memorial is up a short trail, at a spot that overlooks the area where the massacre occurred. The monument is a slab of native Arkansan granite brought in especially for this.

We found fresh flowers present. I have no idea who leaves them but they couldn't have been there for more than a day. I suspect they were put there only that morning.

Here's a close up of the inscription behind those flowers.

In the distance down there you can see the spot where the wagon train was first attacked. It's marked by another memorial but the road leading to it was dirt and I decided Betty wasn't quite up to that particular task.

This shows the place where the men were separated from the women and children and were killed by the Mormon guides supposedly there to escort them to safety. I found it odd, to the point of macabre, that there are homes surrounding the area where the massacre occurred. Pass.

Just north of the main memorial site is a secondary site where the men and boys were killed.

The LDS Church now maintains the sites and has added this plaque. The massacre is still a very sore spot for the church. When I was in high school it was still being explained away as an attack by the local Paiute Indians. 

The plaque mentions a marker stone incorporated into the memorial. I got chills when I saw it. We once visited the OKC bombing memorial. As soon as we got there you could feel the weight of the place. I think that anywhere great evil was done there remains a remnant, a feel in the air. Mountain Meadows is no exception. The feel is different than OKC. Older, more distant, but there all the same. That anyone could still live here boggles my mind.

The day wasn't all bleak and sad. We had a great drive through the mountains, past Enterprise and into Beryl Junction. It was bright, hot and altogether pleasant. A cool car, a hawt chick and a day with no responsibilities. What more could you ask?

All in all a very good day. Still, there was one thing missing. Angus. Lu and I both are missing him on these jaunts and have begun to question whether we want to do them without him or not. Taking him in Black Betty is out of the question and if we take one of the trucks do we really need the Vette at all? Questions, alla the time it's just these questions. Sheesh. Still, I am once again thinking hard about selling Betty. But not today. Today I will relax and enjoy the remains of the day, satisfied that Lu and I have spent another fine day in each others company.

Yep, a good day.

Six

A Name And Another Day Trip

Thanks to everyone who chimed in on the Name That Corvette competition. After careful consideration, a thorough weeding out process and much angst and consternation I have made the choice. And the winner is:



Coop for Black Betty. I completely forgot about that song until Coop mentioned it with the name Black Betty. It's perfect. Bitchin' song for a bitchin' ride. I'll probably shorten it to Betty from time to time but Black Betty she is and so she shall remain as long as she's mine.

All the suggestions were great and I really did go back and forth many times but I kept coming back to this one. Thanks Coop. If you send me an address I'll send you out a wonderful prize package worthy of inclusion in an Oscar night gift bag that will make all your friends, neighbors and family insanely jealous. Value could be as high as two dollars so you know, best to consult with your tax professional.

In accord with our new resolution to do a day trip as often as possible this summer, today we went north to Cedar City and surrounds. We even took the camera. Unfortunately I was in full buffoon mode again and the first bunch of photos, the best ones by the way, were taken on movie mode. I have about twenty 2 to 5 second clips. Way too many to post. But I did eventually recognize and rectify the problem. In time for a few pics anyway.

It was a great day. The weather is very hot at the moment here in Hurricane but it was considerably cooler at 6000 feet of elevation. Black Betty complained just a little about the elevation change but she ran like a champ.

We went north and lunched at Cedar City. We failed to do a computer search for eating establishments before hand so ended up at an Applebee's. Eh, I've eaten worse. Afterward we continued north to Parowan. Driving through we spotted an Event. Turns out it was a car show. We stopped and wandered the small but well attended show. Saw some nice cars, including a very nice 1960 red and white C1 Corvette. Really wish I had a picture of it.

After much fun and a filling if not unique lunch it was time to turn the wheel for home. Along the way I noticed this speed limit sign for the first time. It's so nice living in Free America.

On the subject of speed Black Betty is what we once called (in my younger, more tender days) a Slider. That is a car that's built to look cool but is in no way fast. Good at freeway speeds but not going to outrun much of anything. She's happiest at about 70 or so. Well, Slider was one of the names we had for such a car. The other is a bit less PC. So un PC is it that I dare not mention the name on these pages lest women, small children and men of weak constitutions be rendered speechless and run screaming from the room, forever scarred. What's that? You want to know anyway? Ok I'll give but don't say you weren't warned. A lot of you in my age range are familiar with it anyway so it's not like it's an earth shattering secret. Not even Squirrel Secret. Ready? Ok, here goes.
Pussy Wagon. See, I told you. Hey, it's not like I invented that name or anything. And I only said it once. Maybe twice but no more than that. I swear. Pussy Wagon. Hee Hee. Yes, I really am six years old.

We learned from the last trip and left the T-Tops on. Hey, even I can learn provided there's enough pain involved. As you can see through the tinted top it was a very nice day indeed.

Isn't she cute? Though it's not readily apparent I do in fact have seatbelts in Betty they're just lap belts but we do wear them. Yes, that is a tear in the door panel. No, I am not going to fix it anytime soon. They're pricey and, as I believe I've mentioned once or twice, I'm cheap.

Welcome to Browse Utah. Proof that the Mormons have even less imagination when it comes to names than I do.

All in all a very good day for Lu and I. We're going to keep on doing this until we either run out of places to visit or Black Betty pukes something critical. Next week the Mountain Meadows Massacre site.

Thanks again for everyone who chimed on on the name contest. Rest assured she loves her new moniker and wears it proudly.

Six