Welcome to the oven!

Two thousand nine hundred ninety miles (and five hundred forty nine dollars in fuel).

That was our trip this year. Just The Missus, the dogs, myself, and a desire to be somewhere else for a couple weeks. Of course we were pulling our trusty little T@G trailer and living off peanut bars, Diet Coke®, cheddar popcorn, and occasionally some actual food.

Also rum. More on that later.

Where did we go?

Well, when we first arrived, I thought we had been sent to Hell.

A quick walk with the dogs was cut short after about 50 yards when they burned their feet on the hot red sand. We got back to our campsite by running the dogs from shade patch to shade patch. The “shade” was provided by what was referred to by locals as “trees” but were in fact glorified juniper bushes of no more than ten or twelve feet. Incidentally, Winslow discovered the joy of eating juniper berries which lay scattered on the ground in the “shade”, thus giving us the pleasure of taking Winslow out every two hours all night long for diarrhea squirts.

As I suppose often happens in Hell, (as well as that episode of The Twilight Zone), I lost my glasses within the first hour, and for the rest of our vacation had to make due with my prescription sunglasses, even at night. I told anyone who asked that I was famous and didn’t want to be recognized. They would inevitably ask who I was. I would smile and shrug, saying:

“Mission accomplished.”

Finally! Now I understand that 80's song.

On that first day, the air temperature was 84°(F), but the heat radiating off the sand bumped it into triple digits (those three digits starting with the number two).

That was my first impression of Kodachrome campground in southern Utah, just south of Bryce national park. It was an oven that we had stepped into.

Eventually we adapted to the environment in this Hell (which is good, because if God DOES exist, I might need that adaptive ability for an extended stay in the eternal lake of fire), and actually started to enjoy it.

One night, in fact, I enjoyed it a little too much.

Thankful for the cooling evening breezes on our second night, I started a campfire and we cooked beer brats over the fire. I’m not quite sure what happened next, but I do know that bottle of rum was full when I started, and three quarters gone in the morning which was confirmed by means of bleary eyes and abdominal flutters.

Needless to say I remember very little from that night except standing up to check the fire and falling onto the fire pit. Lucky me: I hit the metal wall and fell outside the pit, shaving several layers of skin off my left forearm. The wound is now nearly healed and I’ll have a nice two-inch scar which – assuming I learned my lesson – I expect to make good use of in the future:

Bartender: “Sir, would you like another drink?”

Me (looks at left forearm): “Uhh, no.”

We took the dogs on a tour of Bryce view point parking lots and the one trail they are allowed on (a short portion of the Rim Trail). I took photos. We also hiked a couple trails in Kodachrome where I took more photos.

The view from above of a portion of Kodachrome State Park

The sleeping arrangements in the T@G were what we’ve become accustomed to. Winslow, being the newest member of the family, took a few nights to figure out his best sleeping position.

Waiting for the running dreams to start

After four days in Kodachrome, we left to visit Zion National Park. There was no good place to park while pulling our T@G, so we simply drove through and took in what sights were available from the road. Even with that handicap, the views of Zion were overwhelming. Of course I drove wearing my prescription sunglasses, and when we came upon the two tunnels on the park road, The Missus in a panic grabbed the wheel from her shotgun position.

The road home took us through Ketchum, Idaho which seemed pretentious and smug. We were only there for an hour or so, but I had hoped to come away with an appreciation for the rural mountain town that Hemingway (one of my literary heroes) loved for so long. Instead I was left sympathetic to the idea of blowing one’s brains out there. Couldn’t get out fast enough. Truly the idle rich ruin everything.

We continued north past the Sawtooth Range, up the beautiful Salmon River Canyon to Darby, Montana, over Lolo Pass back into Idaho, spending our last overnight in a turnout on Highway 12 along the Clearwater River. It was nice to feel the cool mountain air and finally see some REAL trees again. And the smell! The scent of pine forest, after being away for weeks, is like a whiff of “Welcome Home”.

Speaking of signs, my favorite road sign of the trip came at the top of Lolo Pass:

Vomit bags not provided

They weren’t kidding! But it’s a beautiful drive, as well as being the route Lewis and Clark traveled a couple centuries ago. Of course they had it comparatively easy, traveling with only one dog.

Through it all our boys were the perfect Travel Dogs, even putting up with a couple seven hour road marathons (with potty breaks for all of us).

As always after a long trip, it’s great to be home, surrounded by the comfortable and familiar. And chores. Specifically the work of getting ready for winter. Laying in firewood; pushing the sand pile into something useful; winterizing the trailer, field mower and tiller; and making sure the tractor and chain saw are ready to go.