Salt

Lakeside walk before dawn this morning,  no one else up but a few fishers - a pelican and a pair of storks. The human fishers showed up a little later ....

Quiet lakeside rambles at dawn are a good centering time, reflection on the path that led to the moment, watching the glow of the coming sunrise flow across the waters. Then, on with the day; walk the dog,  boil water for tea, oatmeal, cocoa, and ramen.

Yes, ramen. The master of hammocks has veered into preferring flavored ramen for breakfast. His request to have the freeze-dried  garnishes counted as vegetables was, however, denied.

Although bug free, last night's stay at Scofield Reservoir was the coldest campout this trip. There was a ball of sleeping bag in the middle of the hammock when I rose this morning, and it did not unwind until Tess peeked into it and called forth its inner child.

 On to the Great Salt Lake! At Sean's request, we obtained a rental two seat funyak and spent  little more than an hour paddling about. The two adults alternated duties as sternsman and as dogsitter; everyone enjoyed the experience except for the dog, who had some issues with the heat. Sean might have enjoyed it more if he had been able to see the wreck marked by a black buoy, or at least allowed to steer.

Sean was also able to cadge a short ride on the rental agent's ATV minitruck, though, so he was satisfied. Onward -- over the Salt Flats, past the Morton Salt factory (mine?), a hundred miles of mirages, and a curious roadside memorial/statue several miles south of Wendover. As we climbed out of the basin, Sean looked back and had to agree that it was even flatter than Kansas.

Laurie's comments about Wendover, which straddles the Utah-Nevada state line, were confirmed. Count down from the "Welcome to Wendover" sign entering the small town -- 3, 2, 1, and  -- Showtime! Casinos, entertainment ... and then gone, back to desert and long miles of freeway. Sic transit gloria Vegas?

Staying tonight in the campground at Angel Lake (8378 ft), in a wonderful bowl of layered stone walls carved  by a glacial lake.  Site hosts Dan and Susan welcomed us cheerfully,  brought firewood for us to burn, and suggested a short trip to a waterfall and lake at the base of the snow-touched edifice towering above us. ("And when the snow melts, does it ever get warm?")

This is the campsite that Tess chose as an anchor for her planning, and it survived all of the modifications made before we left. Since we have arrived four days before the state park reservation system opens, we had to take the chance that the campground might be full when we arrived. It was worth the gamble.

Photos follow when connectivity allows.

Nevada is Number Eleven on our list of states; we plan to take it slowly and enter the twelfth and final state of this journey on Wednesday.