Vanishing Point
Ever seen Vanishing Point? It’s a cult movie from the 1970’s about a guy who is hired to drive a souped-up Dodge Challenger from Denver to San Francisco. I rented it once, mainly because of its relation to the Primal Scream album of the same name, and I must confess that it left me scratching my head a bit. Maybe I was just born a generation too late to appreciate the movie’s countercultural themes, but the motivation of the film’s anti-hero, Kowalski, who leads a small army of highway patrolmen on an extended, high-speed chase, always struck me as a bit flimsy.
Now that I’ve completed (in 21 hours and 1300 miles) almost exactly the same drive myself, I think I understand Kowalski’s psychology a lot better. I found that there was a point I reached, around, say, mile 300 on Interstate 80 in Nevada, when I just snapped. The incredible boredom and tedium of driving cross country alone got to me, and I just felt like I was ready to jump out of my skin. Watching mile after mile of dull scenery fly by, I found it harder and harder to keep my mind occupied and not slip into a near trance. On a trip where you look at road signs and say “200 miles to my next stop? I’m getting close!” and the opportunity to pry open a pack of batteries purchased at a gas station seems like wonderful mental stimulation, the urge to take off screaming down the highway like a madman is powerful indeed!
Fortunately, while the trip was mostly excruciatingly boring, it was also punctuated by moments of great serendipity. Every once in awhile I would come across something that would have me smiling at the profound weirdness and mystery of the American interstate highway system—a decaying billboard outside Cheyenne with no discernable text and a large picture of a smiling nuclear family, the hundreds of signs in Wyoming urging weary drivers to stop off at Little America for the night (by the time I actually saw the place, the build-up had me anticipating something akin to the Seven Cities of Gold!), the little rows of US flags stuck into the ground in the middle of the Utah desert. And the scenery wasn’t all bad, either—I particularly enjoyed Utah’s salt flats and the Great Salt Lake. I even stayed overnight at the Inn at Temple Square in Salt Lake City (highly recommended, by the way), which gave me a chance to check out the Mormon Temple (and the crowds of young Mormon lovers who hang around it at night!)—something that’s been on my travel to-do list for a long time.
I didn’t take a whole lot of pictures on the trip, since time was at a premium, but I’ve been very happy with the ones I got, and I thought I’d post a few of the highlights of my odyssey here, so everyone can experience the wonderful sights of Interstate 80 without actually driving the damn thing!
Interstate 80 in Western Wyoming.
Rock Springs, Wyoming.
The Mormon Temple in Salt Lake City.
The angel Moroni perched on the temple spires.
The toilet in my SLC hotel room had a phone! Bizarre!
The Great Salt Lake from Garfield Beach.
The Bonneville Flats, where the world speed record was set.
The salt-covered ground at the Bonneville Flats.
Interstate 80 from the rest stop at Button Point, Nevada.