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First, a bit of background for this trip.
In September and October, I spent a month on the road, visiting friends and seeing more of the country. I brought some camping equipment, but did not use any of it. I stayed in hotels most of the time, the rest at relatives and friend's houses. I was cheaper about hotels than I had been on previous trips, but wanted to get the cost down further. I also wanted to be able to eat my own cooking more. Finally, I wanted less average mileage per day -- more time doing, less time driving.
I'd never been to the Southwest and everyone talked about how wonderful it was. Descriptions I'd read suggested there was good, sunny, not-too-hot hiking in the late fall. I planned to spend a weekend in Vegas with Sean, then drive to the Grand Canyon, then work my way past a few sights to Moab and hang out and hike until I felt inclined to go home again.
The weekend we'd talked about going, Sean had a head cold, so I planned to reverse the trip. Unfortunately, because the first ugly fall T-storms moved in from the Pacific, I delayed my departure, first for the weather to (mostly) clear, and then to pick up chains when part of my route persistently seemed to require them at least in the car, if never on the wheels.
Today I got up at 4 am on the road by 5 am in Salt Lake City before 7 pm MST. Nice drive, not sleepy much after the sun was up. Not a bad way to do things. Pretty sunrise. My first stop is at a rest area in Oregon, where hear the first of a number of unpleasant popping noises on my trip. Pop pop pop. A shot gun. No, I am not a silly wench who imagines a truck backfiring is all kinds of badness. A few minutes later, two more pops. Presumably, a hunter. A gangland style execution in rural Oregon near the Interstate is too ludicrous to consider.
The hostel has two kitchens, with electric downstairs and gas up. I cooked dinner after picking up some groceries at the nearby Wild Oats, checked in at home, and with my cousin. I found out my T-Day plans have been changed underneath me, as my cousins will spend T-Day in SF with other relatives, one of whom is very ill with cancer.
The hostel is quiet. I will later discover unnaturally and unpleasantly so. The comforters and pillows are down. Fortunately, I brought my own pillow and flannel sheet, so I wear pjs and wrap up in my stuff, keeping the down far down my legs. I make it through the night still breathing.
Breakfast the next morning is leftovers, then off to get gas and head to Moab. The road is clear, bare but with sprinkles off to the side decorating the countryside attractively. Once out of Salt Lake City morning commute (saints on the road average slightly worse than other cities, imo, in terms of competency and politeness on the road), not a lot of traffic.
Arriving at Arches slightly before noon, I stop for a picnic lunch at a spotted called Panorama Point and contemplate possible hikes. I drove, poking my head out briefly to eye Park Avenue, the Balanced Rock and the Windows. I hiked to Delicate Arch where Christine from Phoenix took really good pictures of my looking remarkably tiny walking out to and standing underneath the arch. Crowded trail. I ran into an obnoxious guy at the petroglyphs on the way back, taking pictures. I spent some time looking at the rest of the rock face, discerning either older, more defaced and generally less spectacular petroglyphs than the obvious ones (which started to look recent and possibly faked after a while). He thought I had misplaced the trail and apparently hadn't noticed (nor much cared) about the less pristine drawings. Hunh.
As I try to do everywhere, walking around town, or hiking in general, I greet people as we meet on the trail, and occasionally trade a little more information. On the way out to and back from Delicate Arch, I saw a number of people I would later meet at least once more, and in one case several times more, in the course of exploring the local trails during the next couple days.
For example, after driving through to Devil's Garden, I hiked out to Landscape and Wall Arch, noticing a family I had seen on my way out to Delicate Arch. Herbie from Austria walked back with me around sunset.
I drove into Moab, noticing that a lot of the hotels were advertising $28 rooms. I, however had a line on an $8 bed at the Lazy Lizard which, assuming it wasn't too scary, I planned on using as a base for my days in Moab. As it happened, the hostel was clean if somewhat run down, and friendly. $8 plus $2 for 20 min internet. I got produce at Boomers and cooked my own dinners. Showered. Clean place no down. Quad to myself. The women I saw come in got a cabin. Tomorrow Canyonlands. The guy running the front desk was kind enough to share his crossword puzzle. Read a bit more about the income tax.
Total mileage 5+ about 500 ft elevation gain. I think I'm at 5000+ base elevation.
Once again, leftovers for breakfast. Today, Canyonlands Island in the sky. First Mesa Arch and Aztec Butte, which I gave up on because the slickrock looked too steep. If I had encountered this later in my trip, I probably would have made it up (especially after the incident at Mouse's Tank). Then Upheaval Dome which, once you see it in person, doesn't look even remotely volcanic. I started noticing in the parking lot at Upheaval Dome that people were paying at least as much attention to me as I was to them, but was too distracted keeping the birds from getting above me and shitting on my food to worry about it much.
I found out who was paying that much attention to me at Grand View, and chatted with him for a while, comparing notes regarding who else we'd both met, or run across more than once and generally engaged in the usual it's-a-small-world stories, enjoying it so much we drove down to Murphy Point to continue the conversation. This is what comes of wandering around the desert alone.
Upon my return to the hostel, I found young Natasha and older Lynn in dorm, the former a mountain biker who works with birds and the latter a mom attending son's wedding. Both pleasant, and there for at least two nights.
I didn't run into as many people on my hike (singular) in the Needles. I hiked out to Chesler Park late in the morning (10:40) and got back mid-afternoon (after 3). I didn't see very many people here, either -- white man asian woman couple from Delicate Arch when I was heading out and they were headed in. One other couple, who were moving to Victoria, one woman heading out to camp at the primitive sites, and one man coming back from Druid Arch. I also saw one lizard.
Something came up with my sister, so I called her and got that straightened out. I told her I was in Moab, she wanted to know where that was. I told her I was in a hostel, she said, hey, if you're ever in Utah stay at the Lazy Lizard. She knew about the hostel -- but not about Moab. Trust her to find the party.
I talked to Lynn while my laundry was running. She came in from Denver via the River Road, 128, listening to Native American flutist Carlos Nakaai. Both sound good. She runs a nonprofit that gets books to African kids, Education For All.
There's a young guy here, quite interested in Natasha, named John. I agreed to wake him up early the next morning, as I was leaving early.
Got up ealy, and woke John up. He eyeballed a map showing mileages and told me confusing mileage info. Decided to trust my original plans and went to Hovenweep, despite widespread skepticism about how cool it would be. I was there briefly, 9:20-10:20, as I was hustling to get to the Canyon before too late in the day (stupid -- could have spent more time). Fabulous. I'm going back with a mountain bike to see the other sites.
I bought a birthday present in Cameron and arrived at the Grand Canyon a bit before 3. Horrible at first too many people too bright and flat looking. Watched sunset west of Yavapai with some international tourists german, dutch, and aussie I think. Chatted with James on his way from Colorado to Baja, camping and cold. Took pix throughout eventually had spot to myself. The canyon by moonlight is much better, and it becomes possible to see it for what it is: here ends the earth, there it begins again. Wedged into the middle is a substanial mountain range, filling the entire space.
I found a cheap hotel room ($25, with a phone!) and caught up on voice mail, then made reservations for Vegas. Comdex starts Monday. This could be a mistake.
I left Williams after breakfast in old Smokys, where the waitresses were excited to hear about the book Death in Grand Canyon which I was reading. I had bought it the day before, along with the Powell journal. Having finished Death, I now regret buying the journal, but I'll read it anyway.
Once in Vegas, I found the Clark County library in search of one hour of free computer access -- and there I ran into John from the Lazy Lizard. We bought bread at Albertsons and had lunch in the library lot.
After picking up Sean at the airport, we checked into Circus Circus. John met us for a beer a little after 8, at which point Sean bailed and we went walking down the strip to the Venetian to look at trompe l'oeil architecture and Disney For Adults. John's going through the standard it's-all-fake that a lot of people bring to Vegas. Well, duh. That's the fun. It's evil, but packaging is cool. Ask any two year old. They could give a rat's ass about their presents it's the crinkly shiny stuff they lust after.
It's Sunday, which means Football. Sean went to ESPNzone and, despite my love of surface, John had pointed out some nifty parks in the area. Zion struck me as a little far (I'm still regretting that decision -- wish I'd gone), but Valley of Fire and Red Rock were both close. I started with VoF. I walked (actually, jogged, in flip flops) the Petrified Logs, peered very briefly at the Beehives and headed to the slot canyon, which was pleasant. I also walked out to Mouse's Tank, and rather foolishly fell in, but successfully extricated myself on the second attempt (up there, then over -- not straight up).
Then off to drive through BLM's Red Rock Canyon, where I decided it was way too late in the day to try to hike, and back to the city for dinner in one of my all time (improbably so) favorite chinese restaurants, Papyrus, located in Luxor. Twice cooked pork you'll remember for years, yearning. It was closed when I was there with my friends in December of 2000.
Monday: Comdex, on a free exhibits only pass courtesy John (really a remarkably helpful young man). But not until after I found a pair of shoes and pants that hadn't seen some hard hiking (the Kenneth Cole mary janes turn out to be somewhat brutal after a couple miles). There's a Fila shop in the outlet mall -- wish I'd bought more, that stuff is damn hard to find in Seattle. One pair of track pants, some socks and a cheap pair of running shoes later, I was happily immersed in geek heaven.
We had a lovely dinner at Morton's Steakhouse. Good bottle of wine, too.
I'm now getting a cold myself and sick of it. I drive out of Vegas at noon, abandoning Sean to his own devices, which will (yay!) finally include Crazy Horse Too. My upstairs neighbor loaned me a bunch of books on tape, of which I have already listened to the Tony Hillerman novel, and Maximum Bob by Elmore Leonard. I have, however, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Unabridged, at fifteen hours, I'm thinking it'll get me home without further stops. I pop the first tape in after I've been on the road an hour or so.
I have lunch out of the car, and dinner between Salt Lake City and Ogden, reading a particularly chilling passage about Mormon history in Death in Grand Canyon: the Mountain Meadow Massacre of the Francher party, and a disturbing theory about what happened to the three men who hiked away from the first Powell expedition. Creepy to read that sitting in an Applebee's. Not that similar horrific acts haven't been committed by white folks all over this country, many of whom similarly felt called by God.
The rest of the ride was largely uneventful, listening to Midnight, stopping twice to nap. I arrive in Seattle for breakfast on Day 10, November 20, and have breakfast at the Scarlet Tree before laying my weary head to rest for a few hours, then off to have my hair done for the holidays.
First things first. Don't bring shoes on a trip that you haven't tested and are quite sure you will feel happy to keep walking in after the second or third mile in a row! Duh! I know better than to make this mistake. Second, I brought too much food (big surprise there, I know). Third, go back! There are some places below the rim in the Grand Canyon I'd like to visit (although I remain very iffy on river running), notably Havasupai. There's a lot more to do in Canyonlands, and plenty of other places to visit in the desert when it is cool and sunny, and everywhere else has short days and a lot of dim light.
As with the previous trip, I must have learned something, right? Well, it turns out that hostels are cheaper than cheap motels, more fun, when chosen carefully enable eating one's own cooking and just more stylin'. I wasn't happy with Motel 6 because I don't like to just be cheap, and cheap is what recommends Motel 6 more than anything else.
During this trip, I drove a lot less (300+ miles per day average, compared to 400), and did a lot more. I want to drive still less and do still more. I actually packed that driving into even fewer days (the return 1250 done in less than 24 hours). This is a trend I would happily follow for a while. I continue to be very happy with traveling by myself, having discovered the added benefit (once I stayed in one place for a little while) that traveling by myself attracts interesting people.
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Copyright Rebecca Allen, 2002.
Created November 25, 2002 Modified November 25, 2002