Roadtrip Across America, Part Five - Life Elevated in Utah

Continuing our roadtrip with our three rescued dogs in a motorhome across ten states in nine days from East Tennessee to our new home on Puget Sound in Washington State, today we're in Utah. Which, at least along our route, had the most spectacular Rocky Mountain scenery. Just click on the photos to see them full size, then you can x-out, which will return you to the blog.

While I liked the cowboy on Wyoming's sign better than this skier, I do like Utah's Life Elevated slogan.


Wyoming isn't the only state with rocks. We couldn't decide if this first bunch was trying to become a new mountain, or was left from when a mountain was ground down.





I'm privileged to have been invited to speak at the Salt Lake City RWA chapter's conference twice (they're a wonderful group of writers!) and whenever I fly into the city and see these Rockies, I totally understand why Brigham Young decided to settle here. It's a stunningly beautiful place!




Westward, ho!


A lonely barn.


Yet another reminder that the west has a LOT of wide open spaces!


Promontory Summit, northwest of Ogden, is the location of one of the most important accomplishments of the 19th century.

On May 10, 1869, officials of the Central Pacific Railroad (whose work crews had included 8,000 - 10,000 Irish, German, and Italian immigrants) and the Union Pacific Railroad (which had included over 10,000 Chinese laborers) met to drive four symbolic spikes celebrating the completion of the first transcontinental railroad. Since there were no laws preventing each railroad line from continuing to build separately across the country, they started to pass each other coming from opposite directions, thus increasing subsidies from the federal government. Fortunately, Congress acted quickly (now there's a concept!) and set a meeting point.

The famed "Golden Spike" was presented by David Hewes, a San Francisco construction magnate. It was engraved with the names of the Central Pacific directors, special sentiments appropriate to the occasion, and, on the head, the notation "the Last Spike." A second gold spike was presented by the San Francisco News Letter. A silver spike was Nevada's contribution, and a spike blended of iron, silver, and gold represented Arizona.

At 12:47 P.M. the actual last spike--an ordinary iron spike--was driven into a regular tie. Both spike and sledge were wired to send the sound of the strikes over the wire to the nation. Unfortunately, Leland Stanford, of the Central Pacific, and Thomas Durant, of the Union Pacific (who was suffering from a terrible headache many believe was a hangover from the celebratory party the previous night in Ogden), both missed the spike. Nevertheless, the telegraph operator clicked three dots over the wire: "done." Construction supervisors James H. Strobridge and Samuel R. Reed then took turns driving the last spike with an unwired sledge hammer.

Before the completion of the transcontinental railroad, traveling across the country took many months of privation and danger. Afterwards, for less than a hundred dollars, you could ride from New York to San Francisco in about a week.


I was worried about who was taking care of these horses at this abandoned homesite, but sweetie believes -- and he's probably right -- that they're wild.


Next week we reach Idaho, the windiest state we traveled across (I watched a gust blow a toddler over at a rest stop!), where clouds of dust turned one photo to sepia, and we saw something that challenged Texas for quirkiness.