My whole concept of Utah was that it’s one big expanse of stone and desert, alternately smooth or crusty, orange or red. A few shrubs and chaparral, spare on trees and anything really green. The perfect set-piece for films about an untamed west, drovers with guns, or life on some imagined sci-fi planet.
Not so, this western side of the state. The town of Beaver smells of cows at 10am in the morning. It’s a place of agriculture and livestock and bright green fields. A factory outlet for Dairy Farmers of America that sells local cheese in creative flavors (even sage cheese, yum!). Warm bright blue days. Snow-white clouds that wisp across the sky.
Crops, dairy, cattle, and sheep farms alternate with vast tracts of undeveloped public land dotted with dusty-green scrub, sage, and chaparral. I met a combine coming head-on in the two-lane highway. It looked like a huge triple-blade Gillette razor on wheels. Miles of dirt trails invite ATVers to tool in, around, and beyond town. Patchouli is happy to have grass next to the rig.
Milford, Minersville, Beaver, Junction—each was founded in the mid to late 1800s, each is laid out on a tidy grid, with Main and Center streets crossing at ground 0,0. Like an algebraic graph, every street is named by its relation to this origin point: 100th W, 100th E, 100th N, 100th S, counting up to the 2400s or so, depending on the town’s size. It’s practically impossible to get lost as long as you know what street you’re on. Post office, courthouse, church, and the fire department cluster at the center in Beaver. Mostly these towns are flat.
Today I patched the hole in the RV’s ceiling vent in the bathroom, which involved climbing onto the roof and trying to keep my bag of stuff from blowing off as I worked. I’m getting a lot more comfortable with this being on the roof thing. Still extremely careful, but a lot more comfortable.
I also installed a sheet of acrylic at the lower half of the screen door. Patchouli had taken to clawing the screen every other hour to tell me he wanted to go out. Instead of continuously scolding him to get away from there (he did eventually puncture the stuff), I’ve put up a barrier that he can’t claw through (self-drilling screws and nylon tabs are wonderful). I also changed out the small bit of screening above with pet-resistant screen, in case he gets any ideas about stretching up that high. He likes to have the door open so he can see outside, and the additional fresh air and light are welcome. Notice the jerry-rigged door catch? Bungee cord to the rescue to hold the screen latch shut so Mr. P. can’t push the door open. Still noodling on a more elegant solution to that problem.
RV lesson of the week: before pulling into a new site, examine it for tire hazards, as well as level and angle of entry/exit. Found all this stuff at my spot at United Beaver Campground, plus a rusty three-inch screw. Very fortunate that no damage done.
Fauna today included two up close and personal encounters with bugs. The first didn't live long enough to say hello once I found him. The second hung around on my hand for ten minutes before agreeing to get onto a stick and back into the grass.
