One constraint of driving the Tesla is that the chargers, for now, are almost all along the interstates. There are areas in the country where we either can’t go or are reluctant to go in this car. There are more chargers all the time, but for now we stick close to the interstates that have them.
From Tremonton the interstate loops straight south before heading east up the side of the Wasatch Mountains, climbing to our next charger, in Evanston, Wyoming.
Instead of going south through the cities before heading east, we gave ourselves a break from the interstate by going east into the mountains, before turning south. We drove through Logan (home of Utah State University), up into the mountains through Logan Canyon, and then south once up on the Wyoming plateau. It was great to be on a two-lane road. We had the road pretty much to ourselves until we stopped to look at the river coming down through the canyon.
Then a motorhome pulling a car went by, followed by a coterie of cars and SUVs, some towing trailers with camp gear or off-road vehicles. When we started up the canyon again, we soon fell in line as we all lumbered up the hill, snaking along a road too narrow and curvy to allow anyone to pass. This kind of thing usually drives me crazy — I want to pass so I can GO — but this morning I figured we had all day. Eventually the motorhome pulled off into the National Forest and most of us wound the rest of the way up the road.
After the road leveled out, we came upon the town of Garden City, Utah, on the edge of Bear Lake. Bear Lake is a large lake that is quite shallow near the town. There were lots of families enjoying the lake — picnicking at the water’s edge, swimming in the shallows, venturing out in kayaks and paddle boards.
We got to the town just as an LDS service was letting out. The little town was full of cars and people walking. There were lots of families, lots of walking hand-in-hand, lots of women were wearing dresses, lots of children about the same age. We looked for a place to get coffee, but every place was either closed for Sunday morning or choked with costumers. So we headed south through open land for another hour, crossing into Wyoming just north of Evanston.