|Fishlake National Forest, from Highway 72|
Autumn is the greatest season of all. That's a given. Unless you love summer or spring more. In that case I can't help you.
Because nothing can touch autumn. Fall. Harvest time. Time to hibernate, even though we really don't. Though we should.
|Fishlake National Forest, from Highway 72.|
I drove west into the San Rafael Swell. I stopped to admire its eastern flanks. An interpretive sign called it the "Eastern Edge Of Nowhere". I like that. The wild west outlaw Butch Cassidy and his I Wild Bunch once roamed these parts. Now we cruise up over them at a speed limit of 80 Miles Per Hour.
If you stick to the Interstate highway, that is.
|The Henry Mountains, from Highway 72|
Highway 72 turned out to be a delight. It would never make the category of world class, which in a way only comforted me more. It was high and lonesome. I did not pass a single vehicle either way, though there were some hunters' rigs camped at the pass. I had the urge to camp myself. I would be back.
|Looking down onto the high desert around Capitol Reef National Park.|
Down the north side, down to lovely Fremont, and Loa. Irrigated cattle and sheep country below the snowy high country. Pasture and high country. Rural life.
|Forest and high prairie, Fishlake National Forest.|
|Fremont, Utah, just north of Loa.|
Thus I give my Lonesomest Award for November 2015 to Utah Highway 72. Long may it be so beautifully lonesome.
© Copyright 2015 Stephen J. Krieg