Home (of a sort) at last

Day 100

Distance from Sebastopol, CA to Boulder, CO = 1276 miles

Distance I traveled from Sebastopol, CA to Boulder, CO = 7568 miles

Day 101 - 106

I’m officially in Boulder with Micah, reunited with the one I love. It's a time for happiness and joy. Like that song by the dog and cat. It’s been quite an adjustment from over a month apart to now getting to spend time together on a regular basis. Mostly good. But Micah is also living a life here, full of school work, socializing with classmates, getting a new room prepared to live in, etc. So time isn't always spent together, and it's hard when that's all I want. I'll get used to it, but without anything to really do, what's a man to do? Well, I’ve been doing my best to keep busy. When I’m not happily spending time with Micah, or Micah and her friends, I’ve been busy applying to jobs, most notably Front Range Community College as part time faculty. I obviously wouldn’t start this fall, but hopefully in the future I’d be able to get back into teaching. My other idea is to work at this video game shop that sells retro games. I already went there to scope it out, so now I’m just busy tailoring my resume to things relevant to that industry, which basically means I’m making a fake resume outlining all my game related accomplishments through the years. I have a feeling a million people want to work there, but there’s no harm in trying. Besides jobs I’ve located a great indoor soccer league, and there are several climbing walls in town for me to go play around on. I think that everyone here is probably a better climber than I am, but maybe not as good at add-a-hold games that rely on reachy moves followed by matches.

We’ve done some pretty fun stuff since I’ve arrived, including seeing a show by this girl Bearkat, a concert by the Fruit Bats, a pool party with all Micah’s friends, and a day by the creek that runs through the canyon. The weather has been mostly hot, but I’m told that by the time September ends there will be no more heat. So might as well make the most of it. I think there’s some talk of camping this weekend, which would be great.

The worst thing that’s happened so far is my near destruction by a mad man at the Fruit Bats concert. He was taking upwards of 700 photos with his iPhone during the show, and I decided to put my middle finger into one of them. He then confronted me, telling me how I ruined the shot, and that it’s his job to take pictures (with an iPhone? Really?). I think it was supposed to be a picture of one of the band member’s shoes (which he already took maybe 50 of), and now it had a bit more flipping off than shoe. I apologized, but he was kind of upset, and didn’t accept. Ah, well. Some people just don’t let go of things. Luckily nothing happened, and he went back to taking a thousand more photos.

All of Micah’s friends are very nice people, and I’m hoping to make some friendships with them myself. It’s hard at the moment though, since most of the conversation is directed toward class, counseling, therapy, psychologizing, and the like. I can talk about that stuff, but maybe once the semester gets rolling they’re have a greater desire to discuss other topics, such as hair pants, fruit rankings, and the merits of soft-serve ice cream. One day.

Other quick bits that deserve exclamation marks:

- I’ve seen three foxes here already!

- I’m going to do some repairs on the van while I’m stationed here! Exciting!

- Micah and I are back together!

- Biking up the hill to her house is impossible! For now!

- There’s a mountain lion den up the hill behind Micah’s house! I can hear them (I think!)!

- Gas is cheaper here! $2.63!

- I’ve been to three breweries! And there’s more than that!

Well, that’s about it for now. Not sure what the updates will look like for the next bit as my trip takes an intermission to stay with Micah for as long as I can (hopefully a month). I’ll do my best to keep things consistent, as you’ve come to expect from yours truly, but I can’t make any promises. Plus, an entire post devoted to sitting at a coffee shop waiting for Micah’s class to end is not always conducive to interesting stories. But you never know. Something crazy might happen, like when Enoch was at a Starbucks (as usual), and someone came in and robbed the place.

Leaving the land of absurd liquor laws

Day 96

Canyonlands National Park seems to be too tucked away for most people to bother, and that’s a shame, unless you don’t mind being in a huge outdoor area with very few people, which I do. It’s a great area, tons of trails to explore, and there aren’t mobs of people all over. We were only here for a day though, and the day we chose was like 100 degrees, so we waited until the evening to wander about. The five mile hike we did was really fun because you’re essentially climbing around on rocks, making your own trail, and just making sure there are some cairns in sight so that you know you’re no absolutely lost. That was the first part anyway. Then it heads down into a canyon with normal style trails made of boring dirt. That was less exciting. Still, I would come back here in a heartbeat. It’s way less traveled since it’s about 35 miles off the highway, which makes it ideal for hiking and back-country camping.

The night didn’t get much cooler, and we almost skipped making dinner. But we didn’t, and we made a stir fry with tofu, onion, broccoli, and ginger. We also had some nuts for a snack. The night had no breeze, it was stuffy as hell in the van, and I doubt it ever got below 80. Thunderstorms kept threatening, but they were always a couple of miles off. Where’s the luck?

Day 97

Worn out from all the hiking, we relaxed most of the day in the town of Moab, which I’ve been told is really cool. Not true. It’s probably a lot like Jackson, Wyoming in that people have fond memories of how cool a place it was in the middle of a bunch of horrible places, but at this point it’s just another tourist town with literally no local flavor. Touring companies, clothing companies, cheesy restaurants, and hotels litter the area. We ate at a place called Zax, which was decent, but nothing spectacular outside of their homemade root beer. Except, when I asked the waitress about the homemade root beer advertised on the menu she told me that was a misprint. It wasn’t actually made there, but some place down the road. Who let that one slip? They also had beer on tap, but they water everything down to 3.2%. Weak. In many ways.

The coffee shop was nice though, and served non-watered-down caffeinated beverages. They also had a sweet piece of art hanging in the window. It was a window, and on each of the six panes a VW van was painted in various colors. If I had an extra 250 bucks, I’d have gotten it. Maybe I’ll just make my own.

We slept in this almost abandoned campsite three miles outside of Moab along the Colorado River. The only other person we saw was also in a Vanagon. Sweet. It was also half price for people with a National Park Pass, dropping the price down to $6 a night. We found out later that it’s unlikely anyone ever checks to see if you’ve paid, so it technically could have been free, but the park services are a good thing to support, so says Mike. Really he just doesn’t like to break the rules.

Day 98

Arches is a lot like Yellowstone. A lot. The landscapes are entirely different, but if you go on a trail to something worth seeing, you’re essentially walking in a line behind a whole bunch of other people. Mike and I did the long loop up at the northern end of the park that branches off a bunch of times to see all the various arches in the area, and at every single one there were people sitting about, looking around or eating a Subway sandwich. It’s a little disappointing when nature is so cramped. We did take the “primitive” trail on the way back, but there were still quite a few people on that as well. The arches are quite amazing to see though, so it’s a shame that the only way to see them is by standing shoulder to shoulder with Asian women wearing slippers and fat white dudes smoking cigars (true people!).

We then needed a shower. Pretty badly. We hadn’t showered since Arizona, which means there was no bathing after hikes in Monument Valley, Natural Bridges (where I fell in mud, remember), or Canyonlands. So once we hiked our six miles at Arches, we were past due. We went to the bike shop, which offers public showers, but it’s closed on Tuesdays. Huh? The shower door, however, was open, so we went inside. Except that the shower head was on the floor, along with a lot of drywall. No luck there. So we went to a hostel at the edge of town and took $3 showers. Refreshed, we treated ourselves to stomach destroying root beer floats. They were so good. Mike overheard a couple (hopefully from another country) whisper to each, asking “what are those?” in relation to our floats. What is wrong with people?

The evening was spent in the shade at our campsite, reading, drinking some IPAs, eating fajitas, and enjoying out last night in Utah. Tomorrow Mike goes to the airport in Grand Junction, Colorado, and I’ll have officially left Utah behind, and officially be on my own. Well, until I meet up with Micah at the end of the week, which is rather exciting.

Day 99

Another sad day in the life of VanGuy. After spending a couple of quality hours at a brewery in Grand Junction, Colorado (which serves beer with normal alcohol levels), I had to send off another van traveller. I dropped off Mike at the airport, bidding adieu to my Utah travel companion. I held back the leaks this time, though I was still a bit choked up driving away.

I now sit in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, which seems to be a nice enough place, but everything is already closed and there’s not a lot to do. I’m also already a little lonely. I’m going to research something to do for tomorrow, but I’m pretty much just anticipating being in Boulder at this point and don’t have much of a drive to do a whole heck of a lot. Just biding my time.

Oh, the heat!

Day 92

The second day of Zion included some hiking, unlike the first day when we decided to just be lazy. And the hike was intense. It was essentially 3.5 miles up a long series of switchbacks that led up to Observation Point, which gives you a view of the entire valley. We went through some cool canyons, like Echo Canyon, but for the most part we were walking along the edge of a cliff the whole time. The smartest thing we did is start in the morning before the sun started baking the first uphill stretch prior to entering a canyon area, because once we hit the cliff face when the sun was out, we roasted. The lookout, though, was really an amazing look at the valley floor and the various types of rock siding along up the canyon walls. It was the only hike that we did that day because of how strenuous it was (down was cake, admittedly) and Zion seems like a great place to go backpacking in because of how inaccessible the northern sections are.

On the shuttle ride back from the hike I encountered a young apprentice wizard wielding a menacing looking staff. I sat in the back and kept my distance.

Today I also did a valuable service to the park by ratting out a couple of no-gooders who were breaking branches off of trees and smashing logs against rocks in an effort to collect firewood, which is strictly prohibited. I told the camp host who then caught them and then proceeded to radio in the park service to scare them a little. Felt pretty good watching those bastards get busted.

Day 93

Moving on from Utah (temporarily), we headed south out of Zion and into Arizona for a night on our way to the eastern side of Utah and Monument Valley. So we stopped off in the half-way point of Page, AZ. And let me tell you, it was melt-your-face-off hot. Walking around Page was an oppressive experience. We hid temporarily in a coffee shop to collect ourselves and research camping options before picking up the necessary provisions (hint: beer with more than 3.2% alcohol). As hot and miserable as it was, I made it worse by making a very questionable decision. See, we decided to treat ourselves to some burritos in Arizona where they must be good, and chose an authentic Mexican restaurant, which translates into bonus lard. I ate quite a bit of my burrito and rice and beans (when do burritos that weigh over a pound come with a side of one pound worth or lard enhanced rice and beans?), and regretted it for most of the afternoon. Funny story: I had leftovers (because of the enormosity of the burrito), and shared it with Mike the next day for a late lunch. Neither of us had dinner that night.

We stayed in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area for the night, and that was a very, very smart choice. The campgrounds themselves were on the pricey side, and they didn’t offer a ton of shade, but there’s a massive lake there that’s absolutely perfect for swimming in. We went swimming in the evening as the sun was setting, relaxing in the amazingly warm and refreshing water until after the sun set. And when I got out of the water and felt the cool breeze against my skin and I shivered, I knew in my heart of hearts that I needed to hold on to that sensation, as it might be the last time I feel that for weeks.

The strangest occurrence, by far, since entering the southwest, has been its saturation by French people. There were over 130 campsites at Glen Canyon, and I didn’t hear a single other person speak English. We tried doing laundry but there were over a dozen French people (mostly very young - 16-22) sitting with their bundles of dirty clothes waiting for machines to open up. What the hell is going on? Why do the French love the southwest? Mike and I believe it’s their infatuation with all things cowboy, but that doesn’t explain why they were all hanging out in Page, which, quite honestly, was a crap town. This was just our introduction to the French invasion, for it surely didn’t stop there......bum, bum, buuuuuum (as in the menacing sound).

Day 94

Despite its crapulence, we didn’t leave Page all that quickly. We stayed for a nice morning swim in Glen Canyon before heading back to Page to do some laundry (because the French still had total dominance over the one at the campsite), which took longer than we’d hoped. We took refuge in the coffee shop while we waited for our laundry to dry, and were treated to an amazing episode of Bridezillas once the girl working behind the counter switched the channel off NASCAR. We didn’t make the mistake of getting stomach destroying burritos this time though, and once our clothes were done we drove to Monument Valley.

Here’s the travesty: I don’t know a fact about Monument Valley. There was probably some literature about why there’s these huge rock formations that look like they’re jutting up out of nowhere, but that literature went unread (by me) and so all I can say is that the rocks look cool, and I don’t understand them. (If anyone wants to school me, please be my guest.) Mike and I took a night hike around the monuments, which was really very cool in the setting sun and moonlight. The whole area is really quite beautiful. It’s a very peaceful area. The whole Navajo reservation is quite unusual as you drive along these highways with almost no signs of life. The little houses are all tucked away in the small trees.

After we watched a movie (and I wisely hooked the computer into my van’s speakers for way better sound) we heard some noise outside. At 12:30 in the a.m. there was a gaggle of French people showing up to camp near us. Of course, the whole setup at Monument Valley is rather strange. The camping area is literally a circle of dirt that you park in. That’s it. Oh, and turd shacks (port-o-potties). But I’m telling you, there’s something going on with all these French people everywhere.

Day 95

We woke to find that almost all the French people had left - almost assuredly heading to our next destination, which was Natural Bridges. And sure enough, we’re on the highway - which then turns into a really steep, really frightening dirt road that my van barely made it up - and every car that passes us has a little French flag waving in the wind. They came in packs of 4 to 8, and they were all driving such things as Chevy Impalas, waving their French flags. This group seemed much older than the previous Glen Canyon group, maybe more like 40s instead of teenagers, but still. What’s up?

The plan was to take a nice 8.5 mile hike through the canyon at Natural Bridges to see the three natural bridges, but it ended up being about a 7 mile hike that was both treacherous difficult as hell. They should rename the trail “booby-trap canyon of doom and death.” Here’s the problem: there is no trail. You basically just follow the creek bed until you hit all the bridges. But somewhere along the way we took a wrong turn into an entirely different canyon headed outside the park, and it was only a bit of luck and good thinking on our parts that told us to turn back. The danger came not only in the form of unmarked routes outside of the canyon, but in the f’ing land-mines everywhere. Logs broke when stepped on, parts of cliffs eroded from underneath me, there were cacti and sticker bushes that I had to blaze through, not to mention the fact that I was swallowed up to nearly my knees in mud (making my socks/shoes wet the whole hike), nearly fell while skirting a cliff face, and had to do actually rock climbing moves when we realized we had to backtrack. It was an absolute nightmare, and we didn’t even get to see one of the three bridges. I’m just happy that we turned back instead of marching forward to our certain doom. Oh, and did I mention that it was hot as hell down in that canyon? It was the first time on this trip (excluding my first backpacking excursion) that a hike really, really kicked my ass. And, in case you’re wondering, after leaving my shoes out in the sun for two hours they’re now at the point of only being totally soaked.

I love Mormons, but do they love me?

Day 83

Stacey and Billy were too busy jacking around playing tennis and doing 100 yard dashes to join Mike and me for an ice cream sundaes at the restaurant where Billy works. So we ate them alone, sad that our friends didn’t have the time to join our merriment.

Day 84

As is the case after a day of ice cream sundaes, we spent almost the entire day making sure our figures stayed trim. And although Stacey didn’t partake in the eating of ice cream covered in either a caramel or chocolate sauce and topped with crack (homemade toffee), she too joined in. Mike actually went running in the morning, which was a mistake since we decided to do a gauntlet of fun exercises. First up: the inner-tube hold. In this event Mike and I had to hold an inner-tube out the window of a car going 55 mph while the wind tried to whip it out of our hands without letting go. Task #1 was a success, and we delivered the tube to Stacey’s aunt unharmed. Second: hike 5 miles up a mountain with an elevation gain of roughly 4000 ft. Task #2 was a failure. After 1.5 miles Stacey thought she was going to die from dehydration and/or low blood sugar. She powered through it, but after about 3.5 miles we realized that the gondola that we were planning on taking down the mountain was not in service because there was a Steve Martin (the comedian) concert down in the park below. Thus, we turned around and hiked back down like chickens. The silver lining was that we got to walk past Steve Martin doing a sound check while the security guys made sure we kept walking, which we did very slowly. Thirdly: exercise at the YMCA on empty stomachs. Task #3 was a success. While I was busy climbing black diamond routes, Stacey and Mike hit the weight room and did some other unknown exercises that were probably all pretty wussy compared to clinging to small crimpers 14 feet up. Reward: burritos for all. We ate until we were slightly sick and then back.

There was an old-timey bluegrass band playing in town that Stacey simply had to see, so we biked over to give them a listen and relax for a bit. A few other people ended up joining us, and we hung out for a couple of hours while the old-timey band (comprised entirely of truly old-timey human beings) strummed their sweet mandolins/guitars/banjos.

Day 85

Sitting and waiting best explains what happened today. The van should be done. But it takes a while longer than anticipated, so there’s quite a lot of sitting and waiting. And watching TV. And waiting. Come on van! It’s like it’s at the hospital and we just don’t know if it’s going to make it. I have a really good feeling that everything will be OK, but stranger things have happened. Something might need to be amputated. It might never be able to drive up a hill again. Starvan! NoooooooO!

End result of the waiting: I’m still in Idaho.

Day 86

I woke up very, very optimistic. And then I called to see about the van. I was told that German Transaxle, who did the repair on the transmission, didn’t ship one of the parts back. So my options were to either pay Matt the labor costs to remove that piece from another van, or to wait another day while the part is shipped. I chose to have Matt strip the part from another van so that we could be on our way.

I get a call at 5:00 from Matt. He says that he wasn’t able to get that part. The van will be done tomorrow.

I went to bed much, much less optimistic that I’d ever leave Idaho.

Day 87

The van, which was supposed to be done by noon, was eventually completed around 4pm. This meant a late start. The saddest part was that since we had to haul ass down into Utah so that we could see everything that we wanted to and not have to leave the national parks before we were ready, this meant leaving Hailey, ID, which had become my home, a little too quickly. It sounds weird, I know. But I got to spend three weeks in Hailey, hanging out with Stacey (and bunch of other great people that helped enrich the entire experience) and getting the sensation of belonging to a place. Even though I told everyone that I met that I’d be in town as long as the van was broken and not a moment longer, I really was sad to leave. It was another leaky moment for VanGuy, saying goodbye to Stacey and hitting the road. I absolutely loved being around Stacey for the first time in over a year. We had a great time in Idaho and I can’t thank her enough for letting me overstay my welcome on her floor in her studio apartment. Bye Stacey. I miss you already.

But I didn’t have time to feel sad or miss Hailey. Mike and I needed to jet the hell out of there. And we did. Matt and I took the van for a test run, everything was great, and Mike and I drove for about 4.5 hours down into Ogden, Utah. But we had no intention of sticking around in Ogden - a glorified suburb of Salt Lake City - so we drove toward the small town of Huntsville through this really cool, really windy canyon. The reason that it was cool was not because it was beautiful. Heck, we couldn’t see a darned thing it was so dark out. The reason that it was a great place (and great drive) was that we drove through it during a thunder storm, and with every bolt the entire canyon lit up for a split second, giving everything a very fleeting, ethereal feel. The mountains seemed to pop up out of nowhere, and they held this amazing glow in the brief moment that lightning illuminated them.

The only problem was that the campsites that we had directions to were all full by the time we got there. So we had to turn around and head back down the canyon until we found a sweet little pull-off to stealth camp in. Mike was a little nervous, having never done this before, but we were in a good spot (essentially a trail head) and no one bothered us. We were too tired to make dinner though, so we ate PB&J sandwiches with Ranger IPAs. Trip to Utah: success.

Day 88

Trip to Utah: less successful that I hoped. We woke, ate breakfast, and drove down to a coffee shop to take advantage of their facilities (an old standby from the good ol’ days with Micah). We went in, but Mike reminded me that we needed my computer to check the directions to our next campsite, located roughly 4 hours south near the town of Beaver (which proves that even people from Utah have a sense of humor). As I got my computer I figured I might as well check to see everything in the important section of the van (the rear end) was doing alright. And, lo and behold, it wasn’t! There was a coolant leak, and a pretty good one at that. I opened the cover and saw that one of the hoses was saturated and leaking coolant at a much too rapid rate. So I left Mike at the coffee shop and drove to a Napa Auto Parts to get this whole thing fixed up. It was a simple fix: Step #1 - take off shitty hose, Step #2 - put on new hose. Piece of cake. Except that when I took off the hose I also took off the nipple. This meant that the hose had nothing to attach to, making it impossible to fix unless I replace the upper section of the thermostat housing. I went into Napa and said the only one was in Salt Lake City, and they had no way of getting it. I nearly broke down at this point. How could all this shit be happening to me? I’m a (relatively) good person. Just let my van work already! I didn’t break down and cry (as much as I wanted to), and the guys at Napa helped me out a ton by having their store down in Bountiful pick it up from Salt Lake so that at least I had a shorter train ride. Mike, stranded back at the coffee shop) had to bike to me so that we could get on the train and go to Bountiful.

The train ride went smoothly, and the dude from the Napa store actually met us at the train station to sell me that part, which was awesome because it saved us from having to walk 3 miles, and because he sold it to me in the parking lot at 2:05, meaning we caught the 2:07 train back to Ogden instead of the 3:07 train (or later) had he not met us. On the train ride back we met a dude, Charles Bale, who had walked across the U.S. in 3.5 months because he was bored. He also tried to sell me some “spice” - something that looked very suspicious, but which he claimed was not - and told me to call him if I needed any VW parts because he had a van that he couldn’t get to work and would be willing to give me parts off of it. I can’t express just how nice everyone is. Other notable people on the train: 1) a nice girl who offered me a cookie, and who expressed that it was good in an effort to convince me when I declined the offer, 2) two young teenage girls that told the most mundane stories you’ve ever heard (mostly about boys) and couldn’t stop giggling for the life of them, 3) a little boy who told his mom (after coming out of the bathroom) that he forgot to wash his hands, at which point his little brother confessed that he too forgot to wash his hands in an obvious attempt to be just as cool.

Back at Napa I worked for close to 2 hours getting the part in place and refilling the coolant. It sounds easy, but putting coolant in a Vanagon is a serious ass pain. Had I not called various folks, and talked to some passerby about the procedures, I surely would have screwed up. As far as I can tell, I didn’t screw up though, and I haven’t seen a leak yet. This marked the first time that I did an actual repair by myself. It was scary as hell, but I’m starting to gain some confidence. Look out VW world, I’m starting to figure out your tricks.

Mike and I celebrated at a brewery, but the beers in Utah have to be 3.2%, which is lame. Very, very lame.

And, just like the night previous, we left late and showed up at our campsite after dark. This time, however, there were actually spots for us, waiting, hoping we’d show. Even though we had yet another van setback, we busted through the repair and ended up remaining right on schedule to Bryce Canyon the following day.

Day 89

Woke up, no van problems (unless you count not being able to fill the water tank for some strange reason, which, I guess you could count), and hit the road early so that we could get to Bryce and get a camping spot. It wasn’t too hard to hurry either. It was Sunday in the small Utah town of Beaver, and nothing, save a single diner, was open. So we got the hell out of crazy Mormon Utah and into beautiful amazing Utah.

I can’t really put into words what Bryce Canyon is like. It’s absolutely stunning. The red rock formations, the visible horizontal lines cutting through it all, the holes in the rocks, the bridges, it’s all just so very cool and so very strange. We hiked a nine mile loop called Fairyland, which gave us a great view of the entire canyon - both from above and down inside. We nearly got caught in a lightning storm, but managed to get out with only a few sprinkles to show for it. It was easily the most amazing rock formations I’ve ever seen, and the hike seemed to fly by. It’s just an extraordinary place. I put it on the top of my recommendation list next to the Yellowstone/Grand Teton area as far as national parks go. So very worth seeing.

Day 90

The second day in Bryce, while not quite on the same level of spectacularness as the first, was quite enjoyable nonetheless. We drove down to the southernmost point in Bryce Canyon - Rainbow Point - and proceeded to do a 9.5 mile hike that took us around the upper rim of the canyon, and down into the forested bits as well. The views here were the best in the park, providing a panoramic view of the entirety of Bryce, the Grand Escalante region of Utah, parts of Arizona, and (although I couldn’t figure out which direction to look exactly) part of New Mexico. The rock formations weren’t as unusual or breathtaking, but the hike was really fun, though quite strenuous. The highlight in my opinion was when I came damn near stepping on a rattlesnake. Having never seen one before, I was quite excited, especially once I was a safe enough distance that it couldn’t bite me. And, unlike my encounter with the grizzly bear while hiking in Yellowstone with Micah, I could take as many pictures of the little devil as I wanted. I took two.

After our nearly 10 mile hike, in addition to the 8 mile hike the day before, we needed to take a shower. We got to the public showers, and for some bizarre reason, the showers only take $1 gold coins. Who even uses those? There was a sign that said you could get gold coins in the laundry room just around the corner. So Mike and I took our quarters (because that’s the logical coin to use) to the laundry room. But the machine in the laundry room only takes dollar bills, and, supposedly, when shoved into its mouth, shits out gold coins. But we had no dollars. So we had to go to the gift shop and get some gold coins. This, at least, was successful. With our gold coins in hand we walked back toward the showers only to find 4 French boys headed for the shower ahead of us, forcing us to wait for minutes before one became vacant. Damn. I said to Mike, “hey, maybe they’ll shower together,” what with them being French and all. And they did. My prejudice payed off!

Day 91

Though it wasn’t a long drive from Bryce to Zion, the short 13 mile road through Zion took forever. The road was practically one lane the entire way, and it was on mostly unpaved, windy switchbacks through crazy mountains and canyons. We snagged the very last (out of 124) campsites, and though it wasn’t 100% level, it wasn’t bad. We wanted to go for a short hike since the last two days had been rather strenuous, but there really aren’t a lot of hikes down in the southern section of Zion. So we postponed hiking until the following day, and instead enjoyed some beer in the shade down by Virgin River. Of note: two large lizards of unknown variety, some very small frogs of unknown variety, and a small bat (presumably hurt) of unknown variety crawling along the ground. It was nice to just relax right underneath some really cool rocky, craggy, mountains next to a(n) (admittedly unattractive) river. To top off our day of sloth we did some major carbo-loading with huge portions of spaghetti to be fully prepared for an actual hike the following day.

** Funny side story: We had to stop to get groceries, and all the towns between Bryce Canyon and Zion are, well, undesirable. But we managed to find a “grocery store” that sold some of the most awesome brands of stuff you’ve ever seen. Mostly it was Western Family, the Denny’s of food brands, but at one point a guy whom I assume to be foreign asks us which barbeque sauce we would recommend. Here were the brands to choose from, and see if you would have as much confusion as he did in trying to pick out the BEST sauce: 1) Western Family, 2) A&W (as in the rootbeer), 3) Bulls-eye, 4) Dr. Pepper. I’m sure you’re thinking that this is some sort of trick question, thinking that perhaps I mistakenly gave you soda choices instead of real life barbeque sauces. Nope. Those were the barbeque sauces. And only someone from another country would be fooled into thinking that those brands produce anything edible.

Petiter the Protector

Day 81

Today was a day of relaxation in the blistering sun attending the Sawtooth Music Festival near Stanley. Aside from the decent music (none of which blew me away) this music festival, more than any of the other maybe 3 music festivals I’ve ever been to, had the most gorgeous backdrop of any event I’ve been to. The stage was set so that while you watch the various performers you get to look at the Sawtooth Mountains, their jagged spires creating an amazing horizon. Stacey did some dancing during the event, but mostly we sat in the sun, drinking Fat Tire from cans (no glass allowed!) and eating the food we brought with us. It did pour for roughly half an hour, at which point the stage was cleared for fear of lightning strikes, and Stacey and I sent Mike to go fetch an umbrella from the car. By the time he got back he was soaked and Stacey and I were hiding underneath someone else’s canopy. When the rain stopped and the sun came back out I’d wished that I hadn’t hid from the rain since a soaking wet shirt would have been nice after the fact.

And since I’ve been in Idaho now for a few weeks I saw a bunch of people that I know and got to say hello to. It was strange. I don’t feel like I live here, but man, do other people make me believe that it’s at least a possibility.

We camped in the backyard of one of Stacey’s friends in a two person tent. There were three of us. And since we were in such close quarters, Stacey laid out some ground rules:

1) No nakedness.

2) No cuddling.

3) No hairy butts.

These rules were unfair - skewed toward the comfort of everyone except me. But I begrudgingly abided nonetheless. Three funny things happened that night after we’d called it a night: 1) At roughly 1am another group of people arrived, Stacey woke up, unzipped the door enough to peek outside, and claims that she saw a boob. I attempted to confirm the sighting, but could not. 2) At roughly 4am a party started outside the other group’s tent, and there was quite a bit of talking about vodka. 3) After being rudely awoken by a helicopter, we stepped out of our tent and found a passed out man sleeping on the lawn without a tent or a car, or (as far as we could tell) any reason to be there at all.

Day 82

I knew before even seeing the strange man passed out in the grass that today was going to be a great day. It started off with the remaining donut holes that we hadn’t finished the day before, followed by meeting up with Billy to go whitewater rafting on the Salmon River. Rafting is a personal favorite of mine, and I was fairly geared up to prove how amazing I am at paddling and being awesome at rapids. Our guide was Ben, picked because of his beard (Stacey’s request) for safety reasons (Stacey’s logic). See, if our guide has a beard he’s more likely to know what he’s doing, more likely to be good looking, and more likely to keep us safe from the beardless mongrels roaming about on the river. And, in an unlikely twist, he was the only guide with a beard, so we knew we had chosen wisely. When he came to give us life vests I asked him if they come in different sizes, to which he responded “no.” I clarified that I was petite, to which he responded “we can tighten that up for you.” And thus, on the river, on this day, I became Petiter, the smaller of the rafting participants.

But in the water I proved that being Petiter wouldn’t hold me back. At one point we were surfing this rapid - essentially pointing out raft upriver and getting kind of stuck in the wave - and this stupid kayaker comes out of nowhere headed straight for our raft. So I did what any sane person would do: I stuck out my paddle and tipped him over so that he didn’t interfere with our surfing. Everyone looked at me like I was nuts, but come on, the guy was probably going to ruin our wonderful day in the sun on the river, and I was protecting us. It was an incredibly fun day of hanging out while floating a beautiful stretch of Idaho, getting to know Ben (who (non-verbally) picked me as his favorite), who is from Maine and just out for the summer, and laughing at all of our silliness. The only downside to the whole day was that the rapids really weren’t that hard and we didn’t have any beer left over from the previous day to make the rapids a bit more fun. Mike miraculously managed to fall out of the raft despite the lack of rapids, but that just added to the laughing and fun having. At the end of the day I made sure that Ben ranked us in terms of rafting abilities (and maybe some intangibles). Final score: 1) Petiter, 2) Stacey, 3) Mike, 4) Billy. The only anomaly to the whole ranking thing was that Billy and I were on one side, while Stacey and Mike were on the other. Stacey created this setup to ensure equality of both sides. However, the rankings proved just the opposite of her theory that Billy was the strongest while I, Petiter, was the weakest. At one point Ben even had to tell Billy and me to stop paddling so hard so that the other side (the crap side) could match us. Despite Stacey’s insistence that she was far superior me and that Ben’s rankings couldn’t possibly have been accurate, the pictures taken of us proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was victorious in this made up game of ridiculousness. Ben was actually a cool dude though, and told me that I have a place to stay if I make it up to Maine. Could be a nice option when I get to the east coast. Rafting, even without difficult rapids, is one of the best things I can think of. I’m starting to think that I should look into being a guide one of these days. Show people what Petiter can do.

** Note: Because of the incident on the river in which I may have knocked over a seemingly innocent kayaker, I now have two potential enemies from my time here in Idaho. The other is a hobo who I nearly ran over with my rental car, and who screamed obscenities at me because he doesn't know how to follow the rules of the road. I'll be lucky to leave this state with only a chipped tooth.