A wolf pup

Actually, I should say a Wolf Pup, of the proper noun variety, not to be confused with bear cub or various other offspring of the wild variety.  We are on our way to Helper, Utah, to pick up our brand-spanking-new travel trailer.  After months of vacillating about whether to purchase an RV, or which one if we did, or should we stick with something we could pull with our perfectly nice but not particularly studley Toyota Tacoma instead of upgrading to a more manly pickup, we settled on buying a small bumper pull trailer.  We (actually the señor) decided that a Cherokee Wolf Pup was the one for us.

That lengthy process involved much online research and trips to various recreational vehicle dealers, all of whom bemoaned their lack of inventory and their inability to obtain anything to sell, or even to know when or if the situation might improve.  It seems that anything that might have fit our criteria of size (small), weight (light) and price (low) was sold long before it was even manufactured.

Thus, here we are, committed to buying a trailer we have never seen the inside of other than a virtual tour, but it does fit our specifications, and even with that commitment, the proverbial fly inserted itself into the proverbial ointment.  This time it was a direct covid hit when a ship carrying parts for our already-ordered trailer was quarantined; delivery time was deferred again and again with no end in sight and summer travel plans were in jeopardy.

It was at that frustrating point that Providence provided.  An upgraded model of the Wolf Pup had actually been assembled and delivered to the dealer in Utah, but the purchaser had grown tired of delays and cancelled their order.  Did we want it, they wanted to know.  Heck yes, we replied; we’ll take it.  

We have sorted through the bins of trailer equipment trying to determine what should be retained to use in an RV half the size of our previous one, organized the lot and stashed it into the back of the truck.  Tomorrow we will see our new portable dwelling and begin furnishing it.

Smoke . . .

Day before departure brought a damaging hail storm, crazy winds and some much needed rain, although in the typical way of humanity, we would have preferred more moisture and less drama.

Our latest smoke haze is said to be emanating from Oregon.  We wondered if the storm would have settled it; however, it is still affecting our skies today, and much more severe in northern Arizona.  On into Utah and very heavy smoke, which by and large obscured the grandeur of the landscape.  I wondered about the impression it would leave with folks who were traveling through for their first, perhaps only time.  What a different experience it would be for them!  

Our driving day from Prescott to Price involved nine hours on the road, so stops along the way were mostly nil and none.  Wilson's arch was right by the highway, so we used it as an excuse to stretch our legs and get our feet into some of that lovely Utah dirt.

 Trailer, River, Railroad, Coal . . .

So much easier said than done, we eventually became the owners of a Wolf Pup trailer, all 16 feet of it.  While inexpensive in the 2021 scheme of things, it still cost more than my first house (that's my curmudgeon persona speaking).

The upside of waiting around and waiting around and waiting around for the purchase to come to a conclusion is that we had a chance to do some exploring.  We were sent off to Soldier Summit, an impressive pass in the Wasatch Mountains not far from Helper. It is the fifth highest pass on a main U.S. transcontinental railroad.  Because of the extreme climb, freight trains required the addition of "helper" engines to make the grade, hence the name of the town at the base of the pass.

I quickly became enamored of the Price River that runs down the mountain and through Helper.  Both the highway and the double railroad line follow its very circuitous route through the rocky terrain.  It is said to be good trout fishing, something I would love to determine for myself in the not too distant future.

Our RV space for the next two nights is right on the Price River. . .

. . . and surrounded by mountains majestic literally on all sides.

I am giving short shrift to the quaint historic town of Helper, sad to say, of necessity.  Our short stay here was much taken with negotiations and multiple signatures at the RV dealer; I totally want to spend time in the mountains for our one full free day, especially after seeing video of a grizzly sighting by an RV dealer staff member yesterday.  Imma looking for him! and whatever else we may find upcanyon.

We are in coal country here - Carbon County, to be exact - strata of coal seams are evident in some escarpments. 

Big John holds a prominent spot in downtown Helper in honor of those who work so hard to bring that carbon to the surface.  There are also many memorials for the horrendous coal mining disasters that have occurred locally. 

Finally . . . someone who makes my feet look small.