When we talked about our list, as a family, of things we wanted to do--late summer, early fall things... things we can't do without things....Moab was among them. "Moab!" definitively say the children.
So Moab it is.
Two hundred forty miles south of home.
There's a lot of living in that two hundred miles.
A lot of tromping, a lot of "where's the atlas?" and "let's see.... this dirt road goes up towards here..."... a lot of investigating. That's my kind of adventuring.
Sego, Utah. Ghost town.
Where some of the graffiti is from the Archaic period...7,000bce.
I love this life of mine--this life of ours. Have I mentioned it?
And so. We travel eagerly on down the road.
Any road, really.
Thompson Springs, Utah.
Which is a town like so many others.... mining... then a major train
stop (with a station and hotels, even).... then the highway bypassed it,
and the passenger train changed its stop to a different town.
Now, though there are a very few residents (strange, that people still live here) - 28, at last count - the town is definitely ruled by its ghosts.
Eventually we made it to Town,
and then to our cabin.