August 9–19, 2019. I was home for my dear friend Ed Bierman’s memorial on the 10th. While back, I spent time with friends, went to Peter Nowell’s pool party, attended Tribe Evolve, and visited Santa Cruz.

August 19. I left at 3 p.m. and ran into heavy traffic on the way to Reno. I stopped in Auburn to explore the town, then again in Reno, walking along the river after dark. I continued driving into the desert and eventually pulled over to sleep in the middle of nowhere.

August 20. I headed toward Park City, Utah, to stay with Martha. Along the way, I stopped in a few small towns and was especially struck by Salt Lake City. When the check engine light came on, I stopped at a Kragen’s for a diagnostic—it showed a lean mixture. They suggested trying fuel injector cleaner, which I bought and used. The light eventually turned off. I spent some time walking around Salt Lake, took photos of the Mormon Tabernacle and the capitol building, and strolled through Memory Grove Park in a shaded ravine. It was beautiful but hot. I reached Martha’s around 9 p.m. She welcomed me warmly, sat with me while I ate, and talked about how much she liked living in the area—she described it as a place filled with young, athletic, and civic-minded people. She mentioned that the East Coast had felt much older by comparison. Jory was away in New Hampshire for a family reunion, and their daughter was in Boston, studying at a private school. Martha went to bed early for a meeting and workout the next day, so I didn’t see her again in the morning.

August 21. I woke up in Park City and went downtown to explore. I walked past the old storefronts, climbed toward the old mines, and wandered along the boardwalks into the hills above town. Jory runs a gallery, and I found myself wondering which one it might be. I found a very good coffee shop where I met Matt, a climber who had recently moved from San Francisco. He told me he loved the mountain biking scene there. I really enjoyed the feel of the town. From Park City, I continued on to Coalville and visited the museum in the basement of the county building. I learned that the town had once been much more significant. Next, I drove to Evanston, Wyoming, where I walked through the old town, visited the train depot and the local museum, and learned about the role the railroad had played there. Then I stopped at Fort Bridger, where I walked the grounds and read about its origins as a trading post that later became a military fort to protect travelers on the Oregon Trail and Mormon settlers. I continued to Rock Springs, a former coal mining town, and walked around that evening. I spoke with two young women painting a sign on a bank who pointed out the town’s historic buildings, including the ornate Elks Club. I wandered both sides of the tracks before driving on. I eventually stopped for the night near the village of Elk Mountain, just off Highway 80. It was a wild night of wind and rain, but I was able to sleep peacefully along the road leading toward the mountain itself.

August 22. I woke up on the roadside and drove into Elk Mountain, a small town originally settled by Swedish and Finnish tie hacks. It had once been home to the Garden Spot, a well-known dance hall that hosted jazz bands from across the country, including Tommy Dorsey. From there, I continued to Laramie. I had a good coffee and spoke with a local environmentalist working to protect groundwater. He told me about ongoing pollution issues in the North Platte River. I also had a mechanic fix the loose shield on the underside of my car. I visited the Ivinson Mansion and took a tour, which I found interesting. They recommended the Territorial Prison of Wyoming, so I stopped there as well and learned more about Butch Cassidy, including the fact that his family was Mormon. From Laramie, I drove on to Cheyenne, a city with strong ties to the railroad. I visited Union Pacific’s Big Boy 4004, the capitol building, and the governor’s house, which had just closed before I arrived. I’d hoped to see the interior. That night, I camped at Fort Kearney Recreation Area in Nebraska. A hard rain came through, and I considered a hotel, but at $85 before taxes, it didn’t seem worth it. The rain passed, and I ended up enjoying my stay at the fort.

August 23. In the morning, I walked along the rail trail to the North Platte River, then returned to Fort Kearney to read more about its history, including the stockade fort and the adobe blacksmith shop. Since Kearney is a university town, I spent some time exploring, had a great coffee, and bought quite a few pastries at a local shop. Afterward, I drove to Lincoln. I’ve been to Lincoln once before and really like the city. The architecture is appealing, and I especially enjoy the Haymarket district. I visited a favorite bookstore and had a sundae at an ice cream shop. Later, I drove five hours straight to Chicago, arriving by 9:30 p.m. Cathie, Don, and their daughter were still up and helped me unload the car. I brought my things upstairs, talked with them for a bit, and then went to bed.