Road Trips

Heading south on I-15 we decide to take the Scipio exit so we can drive through the small lazy towns of Utah. I'm enjoying that David and I have the next several hours to ourselves to talk and shuffle through our iPods. We aren't really by ourselves because the kids are with us, but their attention is soaked up in the latest Pixar instead of the scenery. As we pass through Salina, Sigurd, Loa, and Torrey, David's checking out all the back lots of homes that are full of old cars and parts like mini-junk yards. He's hoping to one day spot a Vespa or Lambretta, a rusted-out unappreciated jewel, and get it at a good price. Nowadays more people know what these scooters are worth but maybe in one of these little towns he'll find the killer deal. I look around for him too, just for fun. We do this every time we drive through these towns.

This time we aren't going to stop at Capitol Reef, Fruita, or Boulder Mountain. We continue on along the Scenic Highway 12 heading for Calf Creek and Escalante. I would never have even know much about this part of Utah were it not for Trevor. It probably seems like I'm mentioning him a lot lately though I'm not thinking about him any more than usual. I'm grateful his wanderings brought me to discover parts of this State I never knew much about.

At one point in our trek, we drive on a narrow two lane road with Escalante Canyons looming below us on either side. We get out of the car to look around. The kids don't really appreciate the photo opportunity. I'm living out my childhood dreams and they don't get it.

Driving along this road, David's choice of music also brings him back to his childhood. We listen to John Denver and gently roll along through the canyon.



We camp at Escalante Petrified Forest State Park. It is about 10 miles past Calf Creek (our ultimate destination). There is a reservoir there by the campsite and we pull out our inflatable raft and try it out. Apparently the birds poop and the snails eat that poop and then they poop and they leave this bacteria that causes "Swimmer's Itch" in humans -but it is relatively harmless. There is a sign posted near the water about this. Ray starts to worry. We read that the bacteria is only in the shallow water so we walk out on the dock to play in the deeper water. We all begin to itch psychosomatically.




Later that evening, we take the geology tour through the Petrified Forest. The sign at the beginning of the trail clearly states "No Collecting". Oblivious, the kids start to fill their pockets with bit of colored rock that used to be wood (except Ray--he fills his underwear because he doesn't have pockets). They think of all the money they are going to make selling the petrified wood along with their trilobites. At the end of the hike I show them the sign about not collecting and let them make their own choice. They empty out their pockets/briefs and head back to camp with a clean conscience.



Little D listens to the guide of the geology tour tell us about Everett Ruess. Thinking about that young man and his fate in this part of the world was the perfect ghost story for our campfire later in the evening. We roast smores while listening to stories of burros, Indians and murder.


After breaking camp the next morning, we head on back to Calf Creek Falls. This would have been a great place to camp but it is "first come first serve". I don't like to leave things to chance so we didn't stay here but it is beautiful and red. We start out a little too late in the morning for our hike and are met by the brilliant sun. The 3 mile hike to Calf Creek Falls isn't hard, but the sand and the heat make it that way for Ray who already has a bad opinion of anything to do with hiking.





This is how Ray feels about the hike. He tries hard at first to have a good attitude, but then gives way to sweaty sobs.
Thank goodness David is determined to help Ray along. My level of tolerance for all things complaining evaporated in the sun. Ray made it to the waterfall only to declare that it was "not worth it"-but it was worth it.





The 3 mile hike back goes a lot better. Clouds roll in with a breeze and cools our skin that had been freshened by Calf Creek's cold water. Ray makes an oath to never hike again. We leave for home a different way heading through Henrieville, Cannonville, Tropic (where Dave's grandfather had lived and farmed once), Bryce Canyon and Panguitch and back to I-15. John is singing the whole way.

A week after Escalante, I find myself back near the same area for the Bryce Canyon 1/2 marathon. The race starts at Ruby's Inn and heads downward through Tropic and finishes in Cannonville. Just as I'm finishing the 8th mile and running toward Tropic, the sun comes from the east and lights over the desert. Annies Song, that I had just uploaded on my iPod in tribute to our recent camping trip, starts to play. It was a perfect moment.