I awoke to a beautiful cool desert morning but could tell that the day would warm up quickly. I went to the Eklecticafe for breakfast, which was a nice treat. On my way back to the campground, I made a detour to Spanish Valley Road, as my new friends the previous night had suggested. Sure enough, there was a salvage yard filled mainly with old Volkswagens, but there were some other old gems there as well. My timing was perfect: just as I was taking some pictures of the hubcap gate, the owner drove up and let me in to photograph while he worked in the garage.

One of the odd and sometimes sad things about photographing discarded vehicles is the random object that is sometimes left behind when the car is abandoned. This is understandable — a lot of these cars look like they’ve been in accidents, and personal property is often forgotten and left in the car after such traumatic experiences. I’ve seen stuffed animals and toys, tools, clothing, coffee mugs, luggage… all kinds of stuff. At this particular salvage yard, sitting on top of a Karmann Ghia was an old woven suitcase and a canteen, both of definite vintage origins. I took some pictures and left them in their place.

I got back to my campsite and should have been ready to check out, but I realized I was perilously low on my supply of clean clothes, so I took the opportunity to do laundry and catch up on an episode of Mad Men. I’ve barely missed TV on this trip, but two shows were on my must-view list: Project Runway and Mad Men. Thank goodness for iTunes and campgrounds with wi-fi!

Armed with fresh clean laundry and burning questions about Don Draper’s future, I headed out on the road towards Farmington, New Mexico, by driving south on Utah 191 and then southeast into Colorado on Route 491. In the town of Dove Creek, I found another treasure trove of old rusty cars — some of the usuals, like a Galaxie 500 and Ford Fairlane, but also a couple of DeSotos, which I rarely see.

Apparently, this part of Colorado is bean farming country — I’d never given much thought to where in the USA our legumes originate, so this was a small moment of enlightenment. I passed a number of small towns with signs for bean companies, one of which declared simply, “OPEN. BEANS.”

Near Cortez, CO, my jaw dropped at the sight of a huge field of junked cars, with the LaSal Mountains as a picturesque backdrop. I could have spent the whole rest of the day there if there hadn’t been a big sign warning me to “KEEP OUT.” I have a problem, don’t I? I promise, I really did not stop at every junkyard I saw.

I continued on the highway passing Hovenweep, a notable area of ancient Native American ruins. I had been tempted to try to fit a visit into this trip, but I knew it is an destination that warrants more than a cursory visit. Next trip! I was also near Mesa Verde National Park, another scenic area with a fascinating array of cliff dwellings. I visited Mesa Verde briefly on my first trip to the Southwest over 15 years ago, so I didn’t put it on the agenda for this trip, although I would definitely like to go there again.

I continued south into New Mexico, passing through the town of Shiprock, with its towering namesake formation in the near distance, and headed east on Route 64 into Farmington, where I planned to stay for the next couple of nights. I had chosen Farmington because it’s the nearest town to the remote and otherworldly area called the Bisti Badlands, which would be my destination for the following day.

I decided to take a break from the camper and instead checked in at the Region Inn, which was an inexpensive but pleasant place to stay. While I was unloading my car, one of the other guests came up to ask about my trailer, and as usual, we ended up chatting for a while. His name was Rufus, and he travels to the area frequently to conduct fire and rescue training sessions. He very kindly gave me some great advice on scenic routes in Colorado that would come in handy later in my trip. After talking for a while, I got settled in to the hotel and had dinner at their on-site Mexican restaurant, called Tequila’s. It was a pleasant surprise — the food was quite good, and I had enough for leftovers!

I woke up early, but not early enough to make the hour’s drive to Dead Horse Point State Park in time to catch the sunrise. Still, I had enough golden morning light in which to enjoy the quiet grandeur of the new day in the desert. Dead Horse Point sits adjacent to the northernmost part of Canyonlands National Park, and the views are similar, but it’s worth visiting both. I walked a bit of the rim trail and took my time exploring a bit off-trail before heading to Canyonlands.

At Canyonlands, I drove to all the viewpoints and took almost all of the short hikes to overlooks with sweeping views of the rugged desert landscape carved by the Green and Colorado Rivers. I particularly enjoyed the hike around a portion of the Upheaval Dome, the eroded remnants of what is likely an impact crater where a meteorite hit the earth 60 million years ago. I looked with a little bit of envy at the 4WD White Rim Road that led down into the canyons, and thought that next time I return to this part of the world, my husband Jamie is coming with me, and we’re taking a 4WD vehicle!

I caught some late afternoon light at Mesa Arch, ducking out of the way of about a dozen other photographers, and caught the sunset back at the overlook at Dead Horse Point State Park, where the atmosphere was almost like a party. People finishing their hikes and snacking, lounging around watching the sunset, even a guy playing Beatles songs on the guitar while his friends sang along. I caught some sunset photos with glowing gold threads rimming the darkening clouds and headed back towards Moab with my stomach growling. Time for dinner!

Back in town, I decided to check out Moab Brewery. Something about a day of hiking and trail mix makes the idea of a burger and a beer especially appealing. The restaurant was packed with people, but I found a table in the bar area. As I ate my meal, a couple named Gretchen and Peter came up and asked if they might join me at my table since it was so busy and there would be a long wait. I had three extra seats, so I was happy to welcome them. They were visiting from Steamboat Springs — they have a house in Moab where they like to go to warm up when the weather in the mountains of Colorado gets too cold. We had a great time talking, and it was nice to share a dinner table with other people again — especially such nice people! Naturally, we got to talking about what I was doing on my trip, they checked out some of my photos on my business cards, and when they learned I like to shoot rusty old cars, they advised me to check out Spanish Valley Road before I left town.

Happy to have had a great dinner and made some new friends, I headed back to my camper for the night.

Every morning on this trip, I wake up and give thanks that I’m able to have this experience. It’s truly a blessing to have the luxury of time to wander across the country, seeing amazing places that many people never get to experience in person. Every day brings some visual treat, and some days it’s something I anticipated — a natural landmark or national park — and other days it’s something more mundane but nonetheless fascinating to me. Little towns that time seems to have forgotten, rolling hills of farmland, miles of desert buttes and blue skies, even acres of rusting automobiles and falling-down barns. There is so much beauty in this country, and it’s not always where you expect to find it.

But then there’s the practical stuff, too. After spending the morning at the hotel, responding to email and catching up on errands (bills still have to be paid!), I left the town of Delta, heading west on Route 50 towards Moab and Canyonlands. Route 50 merges with I-70 through this part of Utah, so this would be one of the few times on the trip I would be on the interstate. This is a part of the country I have visited before, and I had happy moments of recognition of the colorful desert landscape as I passed the entrance routes for the San Rafael Swell region and the remote northernmost parts of Capitol Reef National Park. I was a little sorry I would not be revisiting those areas on this trip, but southern Utah is actually one part of the country I have revisited numerous times for the amazing desert scenery. The only national park in southern Utah I had not yet visited was on my agenda for this trip: Canyonlands. Moab is the closest town to the Island in the Sky section of Canyonlands, so I had planned to make Moab my home base for the next couple of nights.

From I-70, I decided to take the longer route to Moab since I’d never gone that way before: Scenic Highway 128 south through the Castle Valley area, past the Fisher Towers and along the Colorado River. The highway skirts the southernmost boundary of Arches National Park, although there is no vehicle access into the park from this road. Most of the highway runs alongside the river through the canyon — a beautiful area of dramatic red rock walls and spires, where hiking and mountain biking opportunities abound. This is definitely an area that warrants a lengthier visit!

Since I had gotten a late start and taken such a leisurely route to Moab, I arrived in town as the sun set, found a campsite, and spent some time just looking at the star-filled nighttime sky before settling in for the night.

I woke up bright and early and decided to backtrack on Route 50 a few miles to check out the copper mining town of Ruth. (Fun Maryland-related aside: former Congresswoman Helen Delich Bentley was born in Ruth.) However, it’s not so easy to find the actual old ghost town of Ruth, because the town apparently would pick up and move every time they exhausted one mining site and went on to another. That sounds like a lot of work to me, but what do I know? I try to move as infrequently as possible.

I did get to visit the current mining operation in Ruth, courtesy of the Robinson Nevada Mining Company. They have cleared a visitor-friendly viewing area, just a mile or so up a gravel road, where the public can see the huge mining vehicles trundling up and down, with the terraces cut into the hillsides in the background.

I then hit the road to Great Basin National Park, which is the second least-visited of all of the US National Parks. The reason is certainly not lack of beauty or grandeur — it’s clear that the reason is its remoteness. It’s not a “passing through” destination near a busy major interstate, like Badlands. Many of the National Parks are more or less along the way to other tourist destinations, but you really have to be planning to visit Great Basin to find yourself there.

I ended up stopping at one viewpoint and having a long, wonderful conversation with a lovely couple who live in Alaska and travel to a different part of the US every few months or so. They have a van that they travel in, and they leave it in a different area of the country each time they end their travels. That way they can fly back to Alaska, and then plan their next trip to start from wherever they left their van. Pretty clever strategy!

I then headed up the scenic drive, which is quite a climb — fortunately, I had heeded a park ranger’s advice to leave my trailer in the visitor center parking lot. At another viewpoint, I chatted with another park ranger who was enjoying her last day at Great Basin before heading to California and then her next post at Carlsbad Caverns — what a difference from Great Basin that would be!

At the end of the road, in the shadow of 13,000-foot Wheeler Peak, I wanted to take at least a brief hike. I had spent a lot more time chatting with people than I had planned, so I didn’t have a lot of time for a leisurely hike, but that’s a tradeoff I’m happy to make, since I’ve met so many nice, interesting people on this trip. I hiked through bristlecone pines and quaking aspens to the picturesque and peaceful Stella Lake, and much of the trail was covered in snow. I had not expected to be hiking through snow in Nevada. Great Basin may be remote and little-visited, but it’s a gem.

Back on the Route 50, I wanted to get to the town of Delta, Utah, before dark. As I made my way along one of the straightest, flattest stretches of highway I’ve ever driven, it occurred to me again that I could take that one highway all the way across the country and end up darn near my own front door.

I crossed into Utah as the sun set behind me and realized I’d lost an hour, crossing into another time zone, but I was also happy because I’d come one state closer to home.