Yesterday afternoon, we received the first big slug of moisture at The Homestead since 2019. It was an isolated storm, the airport in Cedar City recorded only .07 inches, but it carried so much heavy rain that the house and shed were flooded. Actually, there was only a small pool of water that made it into the back entry (below). The worst flooding that we've seen in the past created enough back entry overflow that it went down the stairs into the basement.
We generally buy high mileage cars and drive them as far as they will go. We plan, really, to keep them forever and will only move on when they can no longer be trusted or repaired. Sadly, the Vue finally reached that stage: After 307,000 miles, the motor was strong, but the front end had a chronic rattle, shimmy, shake, and wander that we could not fix. We put bearings, bushings, tie-rods and tires into it, but couldn't settle it down. We decided it was time. We told the guy at the used car lot that we wanted to trade it in. He took one look and skipped the appraisal. It was going to auction. In exchange, we got another Chevy. A ten year old sport ute thing (a lot like the Vue) but with only 64,000 miles, a 243,000 mile improvement. (I have never in my life owned a vehicle with fewer than 100,000 miles.) It is in very nice shape, probably too nice for us, but there are really just two things I don't like about it: 1) The color is too gaudy, nearly ticket-me red and 2) Chevy named it "Captiva." Captiva? I asked VSO about it and she said, "It's an island." "What island?" I asked, "Alcatraz?" I thought that was pretty witty, but evidently there is a resort island in Florida called Captiva: White sand beaches and yachts. Just our thing.
During the last wet year, 2019, I noted that there was enough water to fill the playas. In particular, there was enough water to fill the Little Salt Lake (above). On a memorable day in May, we even paddled across it in the canoe. Today, after two years without rain, the LSL is better suited to wheeled traffic (below).
It is a curious day to be publishing this post: We got .10 inches of water over the past 24 hours for the first time since April. A wetting rain. So it feels a little less droughty than before. On the other hand, droughts are made from an accumulation of dry days over a period of months and years. Droughts take time, . . . the vice tightening slowly. What we found this week is that the little pond that we visit every summer on the Markagunt Plateau no longer has any water. The picture (above) is from Monday; the picture (below) is from July 2017.
I did (sort of) complain about the Wasatch. But one reason that the mountain range draws such crowds is that it boasts some of the best skiing and mountain biking in the world. I've posted plenty of times about the skiing, but, this week, we did some outstanding biking there, too. The picture, above, is of VSO cruising into the Rhino Saddle just before taking the Scotts Bypass to the 9K Trail at Park City. This is not the first time our bikes have crested the Wasatch but this week Mark was available to be our private guide. As a Wasatch native, he knows the trails better than anyone. He is also a cheerful and comforting presence, always ready to look the other way if you need to start heaving or to hand over a beer if you've made it back to the truck. The picture, below, is of Mark leading us into Daly Bowl at Deer Valley on the other end of the 9K . . . just before we earned our beer.
