A coda to my last post: my Grand Junction Airbnb host threw in a free hot, homemade breakfast, which was delicious: an omelet-type thing with ham and veggies, local peaches and peach juice, hot tea, and a buttered bagel with strawberry jam.
And it was a good thing, too, since I ended up driving nearly seven hours before I ate lunch. Not intentionally–the day started out well, with a slight detour through Colorado National Monument. It’s right outside of Grand Junction and the scenic drive was heading north, the way I wanted to go anyway. I liked it quite a bit, as it has a lot of variation in rock formations packed into a small space, and it’s a less traveled spot than, say, the Grand Canyon, so you don’t have to shove in between other tourists to get a look.
But after leaving Colorado National Monument, it got a bit tricky. Yellowstone National Park was my next stop, and it’s in the western corner of Wyoming, but the major north-south interstates run towards Denver, which is very much east of the park. My GPS ended up stitching together a zigzag across the Colorado-Utah border (fun fact: Grand Junction’s streets are numbered according to how far they are from the Utah border, so 29 1/4 Street is 29.25 miles from Utah), until I could pick up US 191, which runs up and nearly through Jackson, WY, the nearest decent-sized town to the bottom edge of the park. Utah was dusty and going hot again, and I opted not to stop at Dinosaur, UT, despite my love of dinos, so I could try and get into the mountains to get cooler air. However, US 191, while a beautiful, scenic drive–and also mostly lacking guardrails, but way less crazy to drive than US 550–doesn’t have any convenient combo picnicking areas/scenic viewpoints. I ended up driving out of the Uintas Mountains and up onto a gigantic plateau. Which was interesting, cruising across a flat grassland but seeing hints of steep canyons to either side, every now and then, but which did mean I got well into Wyoming before I could even settle for scarfing leftovers at a turnout.
I finally rolled into Jackson, only to discover the crazy, crazy hotel prices. North of $300 for Hampton Inn, for example (no Airbnbs either, unless you want to rent out an entire ski lodge). Luckily, I stumbled on the Virginian Lodge, which is really an entire complex consisting of the motel, a “convention center,” a saloon, a liquor store and a restaurant. It’s enormous, the decor is stereotypical Western, and while I broke my rule about staying under $100 a night for the second time this trip (the first being Seattle), I think it’s worth it just for the lobby. And then the restaurant turned out quite good, too. Chicken-fried steak with deeply crunchy, non-greasy, black-pepper-spiked breading, genuinely tender and juicy beef inside–slightly pink, even!–and a sausage gravy that looks like white cement but which actually was creamy and soothing when paired with the black pepper bite. And the mashed potato gravy was yummy, too. And the strawberry rhubarb pie, nice and tart. Made up for the crap lunch.
Animals seen and not photographed: Western whiptail lizards (sunning themselves at Colorado National Monument and too quick, brown mottled bodies with bright blue tail tips) and pronghorns all along US 191.