I Was Nearly Abducted by Aliens

People who believe aliens find humans on lonely desert highways in the middle of the night and suck them up through a beam of light are up in the night. My encounter happened on a lonely desert highway in the middle of the day, and I wasn't sucked up in a beam of light. Rather I was lured like a rat to a baited trap.

If you were an alien, where would you look for subjects? Here's where I'd look, assuming I was out in the cosmos somewhere:

First I'd listen for life via radio wave transmissions, maybe similar to the ones surely emanating from the three major electricity transmission lines that spider out from the world's largest coal-fired power plant: the Intermountain Power Project (IPP) near Delta, Utah.

I might even try to communicate with the Cosmic Ray Observatory, which is 10 times more powerful than any previous such observatory and is funded by the Japanese government. It's also near Delta.

Next, I think I'd observe the fauna here and figure a way to blend in the way Native Americans used to dress in elk costumes to hide among the elk. If I happened to observe the area around the IPP and Delta, I'd learn that everyone drives a pickup truck, usually white, which pulls a horse trailer. Then I'd try to find a subject that is separated from the herd so as not to draw attention to the abduction.

I was driving along the Brush Highway, which passes the Brush Wellman plant, where beryllium is refined. Beryllium for the plant comes from North America's only beryllium mine, just a few miles west of where I took this picture. Beryllium is very lightweight and strong and is used in military equipment and rocket nozzles. The beryllium dust is very toxic, and I could smell it as I drove past the plant. I'm sure this metal would interest aliens with ships to repair.

On this very lonely road I passed only one other person, a guy in a camo shirt and driving a Jeep Cherokee. After I passed him, I stopped along the side of the road to take a picture, and he passed me. Then I passed him again. He was driving quite slowly. Then I stopped again, but even though we had crossed no roads, he never came by again. I even turned around and went back a couple miles to get a picture of an antelope I'd noticed, but I never saw the guy in the Jeep. He had just disappeared.

Exactly four miles past the IPP I crossed a cattle guard. Exactly four miles past the cattle guard was a dirt road going to the north. About a mile past the dirt road I noticed a white pickup truck with a small horse trailer stopped on the opposite side of the highway. As I approached, the truck's headlights flashed on and off. I slowed. I had brought a 9mm handgun just in case some weirdo jumped me, but it was unloaded in a backpack on the passenger floor. Pulling up to the truck I saw a young woman waving her hands out the driver's window, indicating that I should stop. I did.

She was alone in the cab. She said, "Do you know how to get to the hot springs?"

I said, "There are hot springs? I'm headed for Topaz Mountain."

She said, "Yes, they're over there by that volcano flow someplace. I'm supposed to meet someone there, but I can't find the road."

I said, "I have a map. Maybe that'll help."

We got out of our trucks and spread my Utah Travel Council North Central Utah map (the same one that shows Paul Bunyon's Wood Pile, which is also near the IPP and is not indicated by any highway signs) on the hood of the Tahoe.

She said the road was supposed to be between two cattle guards, and the hot springs were four miles up that road. I mentioned the road that went north four miles past the cattle guard.

She giggled and thanked me.

I continued on to Topaz Mountain, and I assumed she went back to the hot springs.

Now that I've had time to consider this incident, this is why I am sure she was an alien abductor disguised as a human:

1. Obviously, no human girl would flag down any stranger in the middle of the desert. They've seen movies.

2. The horse trailer was empty. Why would someone pull an empty horse trailer out to a hot spring? The answer is, they wouldn't. Clearly from their cosmic observatory the aliens had observed trucks pulling horse trailers and didn't realize an animal or a four wheeler should be inside.

3. While looking at the map I had told the girl I'd noticed a road that went to Sugarville. She said, "That's where I'm from." Right. And the door-to-door-magazine-selling teenagers who are trying to earn a college degree and a trip to Hawaii really live just a couple streets over. They say this just before they pile into the white passenger van with Colorado license plates and drive away. I don't think anyone lives in Sugarville. I'm not even sure it's a real place. Except for the lone sign on the deserted Brush Highway, I have never heard of Sugarville. The sign itself may have been an alien plant.

4. She had a chocolate lab barking in the back of the truck. Obvious prop.

Even though I'm a sucker for hot springs--soaking in natural hot springs is what I miss most about Japan--I think I was saved because I chose not to follow her to the hot springs, a likely trap.

Topaz Mountain is an interesting alien-like place itself. When I was here before I decided it was best to come right after a rain storm, when the topaz crystals have been washed and carried into the low areas, and they're easy to see glistening in the sun. Since it had been raining hard for two days, and I drove through a powerful wind and rain storm just before the IPP, and the sun had popped out, I was sure this was the perfect day. But when I turned onto the Topaz road, it was dusty and dry. Not a drop of rain had fallen here for some time. Everywhere but here. Weird.

Because there weren't a lot of glistening crystals lying around, I had to climb up a steep ravine and whack at the soft volcanic rhyolite with a rock hammer. I found a lot of rough topaz-rhyolite clumps but not many topaz keepers. These swirls in the rock are topaz-rhyolite clumps.

This is a clear or white piece I found. One of the alien girls on the mountain who was also looking for topaz or beryllium--I found some flakes of what I think was beryllium when I cracked a rock open--said the topaz bleaches from amber to white in the sun. This is what you can usually pick up off the ground after a rain storm. And this is the one I've chosen to install in my alien-contacting crystal radio.

I whacked this ruby-colored topaz out of a rock.

There are some pretty little flowers here in the spring.

Some bugs. And a lot of lizards, but the lizards are camera shy.

And used-to-be-juniper trees.

Okay. On the way back, I had to find the hot springs. They're exactly seven miles north of the Brush Highway on the dirt road. There was evidence alien ships had spent time here.

I donned some coveralls that I found in the back of the Tahoe and sat in this hot springs concrete tub for a while. It was very relaxing but maybe a bit too hot, as my ankles felt sunburned for the next few days. In the parking area by the hot springs was a white pickup truck with a large empty horse trailer and no one around. Weird. Another truck with a flatbed trailer sat empty nearby. Soon two young couples on four wheelers pulled up. They stood and drank beer and smoked cigarettes while I soaked. They paid no attention to me. I don't think they spoke Human. I decided they were waiting for me to pass out in the hot water, so I gathered my things and left, driving out the dirt road past the basalt lava flow, down the Brush Highway, and on to Delta. They never made eye contact with me. Weird

Driving through Lynndyl, I saw this Chevy wagon still sitting at the Sinclair gas and grill, where a burger costs $7.50. I understand some guy parked here when the car was brand new and offered to show a girl with a barking chocolate lab and an empty horse trailer how to get to the Baker Hot Springs.

Just Passing Through

John and Misa and crew had a three-hour layover in Salt Lake on their way to Disneyland on Thursday, so we got to have lunch with them at the Rio Grande Cafe.

Jackson and Elliot thought the free want-ads paper was a great idea.

Before-lunch chat.

Mei really liked the chips.

But the salsa, not so much.

If you say "cheese" loud and long enough, someone will take a picture.

Of course, the most interesting attraction at the old Rio Grande train depot is the sewer cover. "What's under there?" "Water"

Crystal Peak

Crystal Peak is maybe 80 or 100 miles southwest of Delta. This is an odd yellowish rock that sticks out alone among other juniper- and sagebrush-spotted mountains in the Wah Wah Range (no, this range was not named after any of Barbara Walters's ancestors).

There's nothing crystal about this peak, unless maybe it appears as crystal when you're looking at it from a distance in the early-morning sun on a clear day. We wouldn't know about that.

Crystal Peak "is a leftover from Tertiary volcanoes that preceded block-faulting in the area." (Utah's Wilderness Areas by Lynnard and Leland Howard) I don't have any idea what that means, but I do know the mountain is a big, rough rock riddled with stones of various types. Apparently this is volcanic ash that has mixed with the other stones and hardened like cheap concrete.

Randy and I went there yesterday, because it was such a fine Spring Saturday.












Crystal Peak is behind me. That's right, you can't see it for the clouds and the ice-snow that is blowing horizontally from west (right) to east.





















The mountain is pretty interesting with its weathered pockets.















This is not "the" peak. This is a short peak in front of the real peak, which we couldn 't get to, because the route we took would have required climbing along a very narrow ledge that was covered in several inches of icy snow, and we didn't feel so much like dying.





















We climbed up as high on this side of this peak as we could without needing Search and Rescue to help us down or pick up the pieces.





















Hey, I think I see a break in the clouds. Oh, never mind.





















Ducking on the east side of a ridge out of the driving wind, we were able to find a nice dry spot to sit and enjoy a pleasant picnic. What we didn't realize until later was that the porous rock had actually trapped a lot of moisture, which wicked nicely into our pants. This made for an uncomfortable drive out of here.















Some interesting plants grow right from the rock, like this little bonsai tree and its red friend.















And this tough tuft of whatever it is.





















And lichens, of course. I thought this looked like a slice of fruit with a green rind.















Oh, look. The clouds cleared a tad as we were leaving.















We drove out of the Crystal Peak area to the west and found Zebra Mountain. Good luck finding that in your guidebook.




Normally we would have taken the Tahoe, but Randy had left his car at the Lexus dealer for some work and they gave him a Toyota Rav4 as a loaner. We decided that was a good choice for driving over 100 miles of rough, sometimes muddy desert roads. It worked very nicely, though with its street tires and front-wheel dirve it was a little squirrelly in some of the bumpier corners, and it tended to get sucked into the muddy ruts. Amzaingly, the muddy roads were the same color as the car (taupe?), so other than wiping the windows a bit, Randy can probably take the Rav4 back to the dealer without worring about washing it.














We found Jared's roots on the way to Ely.














And we saw these sorry-looking elk, who, I suppose, are the lucky ones who survived the winter in the east Nevada desert.

Stay tuned. I'm going back to Crystal Mountain on a day when we can actually see the mountain and hike to the top.

It Is Me

That was yesterday (see blog below). This is today.
















When we were in Virginia last year, Jared and I went to Wal-Mart and each bought a Garmin Nuvi 200 GPS navigator. I love mine. It has directed me through a number of foreign cities like Lexington, NC; Lexington, KY; Louisville, KY; and St Louis, MO, with only a few weird detours. It's small, the battery lasts for hours for when I use it outside the car, and it even took me right to Bob Timberlake's art gallery in NC when the people in town couldn't figure out how to get there due to a washed-out bridge.

So, a few days ago I decided to upgrade to the lastest maps. The Garmin website confirmed that the 2010 map was right for my Nuvi 200, so I paid the $69 and downloaded it. I knew from upgraging to the 2009 map last year that the memory was limited on the Nuvi, so I deleted all the extra languages--there are about 20--and vehicle icons.

But when I tried to install the map, a message said I could only install a portion of the U.S. 48 states, plus Puerto Rico and Hawaii, due to a lack of memory. Why I can't swap Puerto Rico and Hawaii for the rest of the U.S. I don't know. But this isn't an option.

I wrote to Garmin's tech support. Two days later I received a page of instructions for deleting the extra languages and icons to make room.

I responded that I had already done that.

A day later I got an email with instructions for deleting the extra languages and icons.

This morning I called the "help" line--800-800-1020, good buddy. I was informed that the wait time would be more than 30 minutes, and it was well more than that.

The tech support guy instructed me to delete the extra languages and icons.

Garmin tech support employment test: Can you say, "Delete the extra languages and icons"? You're hired.

Beyond that, he was lost and had to forward me to the software group, "who will fix your problem."

"Due to unusually high call volumes, your wait will be more than 30 minutes."

It was way more.

The next guy asked me to check how much memory my Garmin has by going to "My Computer"...

I made the mistake of telling him I was on a Mac ("My Computer" is a Windows thing).

"I'm sorry. I'll have to transfer you to the Mac team."

"Wait. I can see the memory. There's 991.9 MB with 15.5 MB free."

"I don't know if that's the same. I only know PCs. I'll transfer you right over."

"Will I have to wait another half hour?"

"I don't know why they sent a Mac person to me. I only do PCs." Click.

"Due to unusually high call volumes, your wait will be more than 30 minutes."














I've now been waiting on the phone for two hours and 17 minutes. If I hear "Thank you for calling Garmin International...Our next product support specialist will be with you as soon as possible" one more time, I'm going to mount my Garmin in a Greyhound bus and drive it through M-Star's Whipple heating and air conditioning system while reading six copies of the June issue of Popular Photography.

Is It Really Just Me?

Have I ever told you about my customer service woes? Don't ask me about we-didn't-steal-your-luggage Greyhound, you're-an-IP-address-hijacking-noncustomer M-Star, or when-you-call-today-we'll-come-today-or-next-week-or-not Whipple Plumbing; you'll be here for hours hearing how these are the stars of everything that's customer disservice.

But here's an experience I have to share, because it just happened today:

I subscribe to Popular Photography magazine, as well as the magazine's email newsletter. I received an email offer to join a PopPhoto customer survey program with a chance to win money. I said, OK. After I registered, I was directed to a page that offered 6 issues (1 year) of a sister magazine, American Photo, for $7. Not a bad deal, so I said, OK.

A subscription page came up with American Photo at 6 issues for $14, not such a great deal. Please enter your credit card number. I called the publisher in New York. The lady in NY gave me an 800 number. The lady at the 800 number had no idea what I was talking about and said the offer must have come from some other company.

I thought PopPhoto should know someone was using their name for a scam, so I called NY again. The same NY lady connected me immediately to another woman named Mirta, who happened to be the one in charge of that very promotion. Mirta was flabbergasted that her promotion didn't work, as she'd tested it several times.

Mirta promised to correct the problem. A short time later she sent me an email telling me life was good, my new subscription to Popular Photography was submitted, and the magazine would arrive soon.

All would have been good, too, had I not already been subscribed to Popular Photography and actually wanted American Photo.

Mirta (I like writing her name, Mirta) sent me another link. I went through the whole survey process again. And voila, I could now subscribe to Popular Photography at only 12 issues for $7. Yes, that's the magazine I already receive.

Now, Mirta has either gone home for the day or decided to go see Spamalot again.

I have to wonder how many people this offer went to, and am I the only one having trouble?

Is it really just me?

And how many copies of Popular Photography will I now receive each month?

Easter Pics

April 12, 2009












These are the people who enjoyed the ham; layered, mixed, fruit, etc, salads; funeral potatoes, 48 rolls...I can't list everything. (Someone was was especially tickled pink.)

Everyone look at the camera and say, "Cheese."

This Brit's Got Talent

You've got to see Susan Boyle. She's a contestant on a show called "Britain's Got Talent" that Simon Cowell judges. Yes, the American version is based on the British original. (The video goes goofy at the very end. Sorry, I'm not redoing it.)



I posted this at Chieko's request. I think she's watched the performance on YouTube about 487 times, and that's just today.

Ooooh, I Confess to Trespassing and Trying to Steal a Train

Tooele County Sheriff's deputies need more excitement. Except for the occasional head-on crash on Hwy 36, they don't really have a lot to challenge their police-academy training. I know, because when I park within sight of the interstate in Tooele County, a deputy stops to check me out. One bored officer did some time ago when I stopped by an old, almost-gone gas station next to I-80 on the road that goes to Dugway. A deputy pulled up behind me, sauntered to my door, and investigated my suspicious doings. I was eating my lunch.

I've seen guys with high-powered rifles poaching antelope on the Pony Express trail just 40 miles to the south, still in Tooele County, and not a deputy within, well, 40 miles. I've also seen more emptied beer bottles than sagebrush at any freeway exit all the way to Wendover. But eating your lunch on a frontage road next to the freeway is bordering on criminal.

Anyway, this afternoon I needed a quiet place to work on an article I was writing, so I chose a dirt-road railroad crossing along I-80 near Grantsville, the same place where I'd stood on the tracks and taken pictures a few weeks ago. The clearing where the road meets the tracks has a couple small sheds and a propane tank, and today there were two worker buses, a few Union Pacific hard hats, and a train or two.

I pulled up in front of the propane tank next to the tracks and sat in the passenger side of the Tahoe with my laptop on the top of my lap and my camera next to me on the floor in case a train came by, and I wrote the article.

After about three hours, a UP worker in a white Explorer stopped on his way home and told me I was on UP property and had to move, because the railroad had a lot of things there that could get stolen and they were going to be doing more stuff there in the future. That's what I said to myself: Huh? Whatever. I suppose I could have spent the three hours casing the place, but if burglary had been my intention, it really wasn't a good spot, considering it was daylight, the place was visible from 20 miles in any direction, and there was nothing worth stealing other than about six new 40-foot utility poles, a few rail cars, the 10,000-gallon propane tank, and a couple diesel-powered Union Pacific engines. The worker pointed just ahead and said I could park on the public access road. So I moved 20 feet to the public access road.

About 10 minutes later, a Tooele County deputy snuck up on me. Well, he didn't really sneak up, since I noticed him coming from about half a mile away. He wanted to know what I was up to. I told him I was working in a quiet place where I could take a picture of a train if one came by, as if I needed a reason to be in a public desert. Okay, I admit there are people dumping bodies just 20 miles to the west, near railroad tracks in Delle, and people burning themselves up in cars. I obviously wasn't doing either of those things, with my laptop and camera and all. But Officer Cliché (dark glasses, bushy mustache) wanted my ID anyway. I gave him my driver's license. He took it back to his patrol SUV and for the next 10 minutes or so I suppose he checked to see how many arrest warrants I had outstanding, while I finished the summary paragraph to my article.

Ironically, the article was on Amtrak's use of IP video security cameras at its Oakland and LA rail yards, which don't have fences or other physical security. Apparently people do steal steel rails, rail spikes, food from the commissary supply palettes, and power generators.

The deputy brought my license back and told me I was on UP property and had to move. I told him the other guy said I could park here, but I would be happy to move again.

Keep in mind that dirt roads run all over the West Desert, and many cross railroad tracks. This place happened to have a couple maintenance sheds next to the tracks, but there were no no-trespassing signs or any indication that this area was closed to the public.

Officer Benevolence told me that since the UP guy had given me permission to be there he wouldn't cite me for trespassing this time, but I'd have to move on.

I smiled, thanked him, and drove away.

After he left I went back and threw a couple utility poles and a Union Pacific diesel engine in the back of the Tahoe and drove home.

John Defends His Dissertation

John did a super job defending his PhD dissertation on April 3. Actually, he did a super job on the research and dissertation. His boss/professor said he attended a conference recently with five Nobel winners in attendance. Four of the Nobel laureates approached him with questions about John's work specifically. It is really a breakthrough in the way medical research is done. I'd explain more, but 1) I would probably be incorrect, and 2) I don't want to take the wind out of any sails by posting anything on this blog.













John and his boss, Tom. We're very proud of John.



















John gave a one-hour presentation to his boss/professor and three-member committee, family (Caroline, Misa, the Crawfords, Chieko and me), and several peers. After the presentation we had to leave while the professors questioned John for another hour. Of course John passed.













Traditionally the PhD candidate's professor takes the successful candidate for drinks. Instead, Misa planned a reception in the school's 7th-floor atrium. This was much nicer than drinks.













This is the University of Texas Southwestern south campus. A shuttle runs between the north and south campuses along the ramp in the background.













The north campus is most of the buildings in the background, as well as the Parkland Hospital, where John F. Kennedy was taken when he was shot in downtown Dallas.



















Would you pay $19 for six cupcakes? You would if you bought them at Sprinkles. They were good. Three were red velvet, two were chocolate, and one was vanilla with chocolate. Chieko thinks they were worth the price. I think you have to do these things once.













The first thing I saw when we arrived at the Astles'.



















Elliot's karate lesson.













The downtown Irving mustangs.



















On Saturday morning we went to the King Tut exhibit. No pictures were allowed in the exhibit, but this is outside the building, in the Dallas art district.













After King Tut we rode a trolley to an area with a bunch of restaurants and ate fish and chips at an outdoor Irish pub. This was near the trolley stop, in front of a building in the art district. Caroline has a Tut-replica mirror in the shape of the "ankh" (which means "life" or "eternal life").













The bluebonnets (Texas state flower) are just coming into bloom.













If you've never been to Fry's, you need to go. It's a huge electronics store that sells everything from electric shavers to vacuum cleaners to video cameras, computers, and computer parts. The prices aren't great, but you can find anything. But only if you know what you're looking for--the workers often don't know much about anything. I think the store originated in California in old Incredible Universe stores. In the Texas version you get the longhorns.













Before our flight on Sunday, we went to the Water Gardens in Fort Worth.
Caroline.













Elliot.













Mei.














The water gardens have a couple of large pools. One has water running down rock walls into a river-like bottom, and narrow steps lead to the bottom of the pool.













Caroline.













The Forth Worth Water Garden also has a "mountain."

Challenge:















While at the Water Gardens I found an SD memory card with 180 pictures on it. I think the girl on the left is Yesenia Avelar. She appears in many of the pictures and may be the owner of the camera. I can't make out the logo on the jacket--possibly a school uniform. Other pictures have a wedding, older people, a young family, a cathedral or mission, and an amusement park or carnival.















The pictures look like they were taken outside the U.S., likely in Latin America. If you are a super sleuth and can give me some hints for finding the owner of these pictures, please let me know.