GimletBlog

Team Gimlet recently returned from their summer visit to Cache Valley, where the number of the week was 100 (degrees and mosquito bites).

To liven up the drive, we broadened our musical horizons with a classic collection of location-appropriate tunes. Who knew The Gimlet would be able to recite all the lyrics to “Convoy“, apparently a childhood favorite? I also tried to take photos of the familiar landmarks we pass every trip. Most of the pictures didn’t turn out (the highway was too bumpy to capture the spectacular sunset as we crossed the Idaho/Utah border), but a few did, and can be seen in the Gimlet Gallery.

Unusual highway signs keep us entertained; we always like to see the set in Oregon’s Blue Mountains indicating the use of runaway truck ramps and warning once, twice, and “LAST WARNING” before the steep and winding downward plunge begins. In our current Gimletmobile, which was made for speed and hugging curves, this section of the trip is a thrilling ride (Things One and Two: “WHEE!!”). But the thrills were a bit different Back In The Day, when we eased our way down the mountain pass after our respective college graduations, towing a trailer larger than our little car (aka Little Red Jug) … in the snow.

Okay, back to this vacation. Because we are unfamiliar with the sun (our summer has been mostly cool and cloudy) we decided it would be a grand idea to visit the American West Heritage Center, an open-air historical farm. By the time we arrived it was almost noon, and we pretty much had the farm, and the blazing sun, to ourselves. Both boys got to cuddle barn kittens; Thing Two fed the chickens while Thing One watched a demonstration of 1917 farm chores and took a turn washing laundry with a hand-operated agitator, wringer-and-tub system. Thing One and The Gimlet also watched a very entertaining blacksmith forge a hatchet, after which Thing One rode a pony around the farm.

Many of the exhibits were closed for lunch, and it was too hot to linger, so we missed out on the Native American encampment, the Mountain Man camp and fur trade area, and the petting zoo. The AWHC is open Memorial Day — Labor Day, Tuesdays — Saturdays with a variety of daily programs in addition to the exhibits. It’s also open on selected days throughout the year for special events celebrating the heritage of the American West: Baby Animal Days, a Halloween corn maze, a Victorian/Frontier Christmas party and ball, an old-time fiddle contest and carnival, and more. We’ll definitely be back next summer, when the weather is (hopefully) a little cooler, and continue exploring this fascinating glimpse into local living history.

Later that week we took a leisurely drive along the Logan Canyon Scenic Byway to its end at Bear Lake, a brilliant turquoise mountain lake straddling the Utah-Idaho border. On the way we were slowed, and then stopped by a cattle drive. We, and the other city slickers, were duly impressed by the sight of real mounted cowboys galloping through the sagebrush to re-route wayward members of the herd. The cows themselves were unimpressed with both the cowboys’ efforts to keep the highway clear and with the tourists leaning out of their car windows to take pictures … and they frequently demonstrated their indifference to the paparazzi.

At last we were clear of the cattle drive, and made our way through the canyon to the lake. It really is as blue as it looks in the photos, thanks to limestone particles suspended in the water. At 5,923 feet above sea level, Bear Lake is 20 miles long, 8 miles wide, and its deepest spot is 208 feet. The lake hosts an annual Mountain Man Rendezvous, as well as being a busy tourist destination in the summer and winter. For lunch we enjoyed the local specialty: thick, creamy raspberry milkshakes. These milkshakes were a much-anticipated treat on family trips: Bear Lake, at a little over three hours’ drive from Yellowstone National Park, was often a good place to take a break between Wyoming and the family reunion in Salt Lake City. It seems that the milkshakes enjoy a national reputation of sorts, too, as per this 1989 New York Times article.

The rest of the week was spent much as usual. Thing One played with his cousins: bouncing on their trampoline, swimming at the water park, and just making up games. Thing Two was not as wary of the kids as he was last spring, but still mostly preferred to play by himself. Nights brought lower temperatures, but also swarms of mosquitoes, and at the end of the week, Gothic-caliber thunderstorms with multiple lightning arcs spanning the sky. It was too cloudy to see much of the Perseid meteor shower, but we saw a few scattered falling stars early in the evening before the bugs forced us back indoors.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, August 23rd, 2007 at 2:55 pm and is filed under travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.