Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Day 12: Golden Spike, Antelope Island and Orem, Utah

Fun Fact #1: We topped 4,000 miles tonight on the way to our hotel after the Orem Owlz game.
Fun Fact #2: On May 10, 1869, two railroad companies, Union Pacific and Central Pacific, joined 1,776 miles of rail at Promontory Summit, Utah Territory with a ceremonial golden spike.
Fun Fact #3: The Great Salt Lake is the largest salt lake in the western hemisphere and is five times saltier than sea water. Only brine shrimp, brine flies, and several forms of algae inhabit the lake.
Fun Fact #4: The brawl video has amassed 2,577 views.

Click HERE to see the photos from Day 12.

We had some time to kill today before going to Orem, Utah for the Owlz game at 7:05 p.m., so we got up at 9 a.m. and headed out for Golden Spike National Historic Site. It commemorates the completion of the first transcontinental railroad in the U.S. By the way, the original golden spike is in a museum at Stanford University. Give it back, jerkfaces.

The place was in the middle of nowhere and we had to pass a rocket guidance system "factory" and testing ground on the way. That was a bit odd/scary. As for the site, it was at best, boring as all hell. Nothing was authentic - the golden spike, the last tie laid, the locomotives, NOTHING. They did, however, have a Johnny Cash CD in the gift shop that I did not have. I do now! Unless you enjoy seeing reproductions and photocopies of railroad related items and such, I'd probably recommend something else.

After that four hours of my life I'll never get back (including drive time), we left for Antelope Island State Park to see the Great Salt Lake, which was back in the direction from whence we had come. In fact, we took the exact same exit as the hotel we left just hours before. It turned out it was only about five miles from the previous night's accommodations, but Golden Spike was way north and Orem was 1 1/2 hours south, so it actually made complete travel sense.

Once we entered Antelope Island, we noticed something - the repugnant smell. It was a pretty stinky place. I'm not sure if it was because of the over abundantly salty air or things just like to poop and/or die there, but it wasn't pleasant on the olfactory senses to say the least. I'd probably rather smell feet and I HATE feet. We traveled on the causeway through a mostly dry salty lake bed until we saw the ugliest, calmest water ever. The Great Salt Lake should probably be called the "Mediocre At Best to Slightly Hideous Salt Lake." It's not very attractive from the water level and it was extremely hazy, which did not add anything to the ambiance. I hope that haze is not normal. It was as gross as the lingering scent of poopy death.

We set off for the Visitor Center where I eavesdropped as the ranger told a very loquacious Christian conferencing woman about the best possible place for her to view the 500 buffalo roaming the island. She didn't seem to grasp the fact that one could not "off-road" in the park. Armed with my newly overheard possible buffalo whereabouts information, we set out in search of them and antelope, the island's namesake. We drove for eleven miles seeing only this sign warning of the beasts. I think this was a sign from God for the loud Christian lady. Even so, I was ready to turn Indy Car 2007 around until this happened right before our eyes:
Pretty sweet, huh? Or is that too many buffalo for one trip? We did see some pretty sweet views of the wetlands, mountains, brine shrimp and the lake, so it probably wasn't as bad as I'm making it seem. I probably would never go back though. It, like the Golden Spike, is just one of those things to do while you're in the area. Never, and I repeat, NEVER make a trip out to Utah specifically to see either of these destinations. They aren't really the preeminent vacation spots.

We finally saw an antelope, which was much more difficult than locating buffalo for some reason. Perhaps changing the name to "Buffalo Island" is in order? Just a thought for the Utah state park folks.

We left Antelope Island for our ninth baseball game (out of ten) in Orem, Utah. The Owlz (yes, with a "z" for some unknown reason) were playing one of the teams from the brawl the other night. You know, the game with my YouTube video that now stands at 2,500+ views? Yeah, that one.

We arrived early, got our tickets and went to get some Orem Thai food. Not nearly as good as the Portland Thai food, but it was tasty and it wasn't fast food for a change. After dinner we headed back to Brent Brown Ballpark and began the photographic rituals - the photos of us with Hootz, the mascot; the field panoramic shots and then the Orem hotties of which there were plenty. Besides ponytails, cammo and shaggy hair, jorts seem to be all the rave on our western/northwestern road trip this year. Jorts are back y'all! Rush out and get yours now, unless, that is, you still have yours from 1984-89.

It was a pretty typical game until I left for a water bottle refill in the sixth inning. When I returned to the seats, I saw a pink and teal gym bag hanging out of my row. I was getting ready to ask the woman to move when I noticed it was a man. In fact, he was a blind man with a headset radio covering his auditory appendages to listen to the game. He had just sat down in the aisle seat, just two seats from mine. Cool, I thought, a blind man loves baseball so much, he comes to the ballpark for the sounds, smells and tastes. A true fan - I was a bit moved by his dedication to the game. Then I had to make the pastime-loving blind man, who had just parked his posterior, get up to let me get back to my seat. He then asked my name, introduced himself as "Ron" and shook my hand, which was slightly odd, but fine. See Ron pictured at right.

Then I noticed that Ron did something I thought to be odd for a blind man attending a baseball game- he took the headset radio off. What's he going to do now?, I thought. Can his other senses compensate for not being able to see the game? His next query made me realize what my new friend had in mind. "Was that a strike?" Ron didn't need his headset anymore because I was just hired as his own personal play-by-play man. I felt uncomfortable with my new job. You see, there are baseball rules. No tucked in jerseys. No jerseys with your own name on the back. No thug-a-sized hats with super large logos still adorned with the tages. No children under the age of six weeks dressed in cammo. Most of all, no asking incessant questions to distract Dave from the game he loves...even if you are blind, Ron.

But they kept coming at me, rapid fire. "What's the count?" "Is he still on first?" "How many outs?" "Is Idaho still batting?" FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, RON, PLEASE LISTEN TO YOUR NERDY HEADSET RADIO! But I kept answering, so Ron kept asking.

Oh, it doesn't stop there. Ron then pulled a cowbell out of his pink and teal gym bag, asked me how many men were in scoring position, held it aloft and repeatedly bellowed, "The bell is ready!" I don't mean a few times, I mean about twenty times...in a row. I took that to mean that if the Owlz scored, the cowbell would be rung as incessantly as questions were fired. "The bell is ready!" The dude had some lungs, I'll give him that, so much so that rows "A" through "M" turned around to stare and mock him. Since I was only one seat away, it appeared as though I was accompanying him to the game, so I was most likely the object of mockery as well. Awesomely ironic, huh? Ron was also a tremendously loud clapper, about 7,546 decibels, in fact. My left ear is still ringing and I think I may be in need of a cochlear implant. By the way, the Owlz didn't score, so saints be praised, the bell was returned to the bag.

Here's my favorite thing that Ron did. There was a Chukars runner on first who stole second, but should have been called out. Ron asked me if he was safe or out. When I responded that he was safe, Ron roared, "THAT'S A BAD CALL, UMP!" I'm sorry Ron, but how the hell do you know? I was seriously waiting for Ron to ask the umpire if he was blind. That would have made for some incredibly ironic irony, huh?

After the last out, Blind Ron said, "Thank you for your help," grabbed his pink and teal gym bag and bolted out of there as though the place was going up in flames. Oh well, enough of Blind Man Ron. I guess I was released from my new position as play-by-play announcer for the visually impaired. I will miss that job.

See Golden Spike, buffalo, antelope and Orem hotties, including my new best friend, Ron, by clicking HERE.

Next stop: Day 13 at Zion National Park in Hurricane, Utah.

3 comments:

BKicklighter said...

The blind Ron story would have been a perfect "more cowbell" joke opportunity :)

I am now going to ask what I have been wondering for 4000 miles of trip: what are jorts?

Dave and Julia said...

Wow. You don't know what jorts are? I wonder if JK might own a pair or two?

Jorts = jean shorts.

Anonymous said...

I have to say the fact that people thought you were with Ron and stared at you is such perfect, sweet irony. Only if you were featured in a you-tube video next to the pink bag and cowbell could it have made me happier. Plus, Ron loves popcorn