Nothing exciting, so into the archives we go

It's been a pretty boring month, so far. We've had great rain storms--that won't help the drought, they never seem to--sure sounded like a lot of rain. I had my taxes done yesterday. It is amazing how much a poor old widow, on a fixed income, with cancer, can owe the governments. I'm excessively depressed about that. I'll manage, somehow, but I'm still depressed.
Because there's nothing going on, I decided to reach into the memories, and tell you about one of our real trips. You don't get the entire journey, just a little piece of it. Call this little snippet "How I learned to appreciate water."
In 2003, before I realized how sick Lee was, I planned a great trip. I called it "Five States, 10 National Parks, and 2 National Monuments." I'm going to tell you about our visit to Capital Reef (one of the many national parks in Utah). I didn’t know what to expect but had studied the hiking guides and was armed with information from the hosts of our bed and breakfast. The big hike was Capital Gorge. Like There is a main road that goes in and out of the park. We took that to the end, and then took a two mile unpaved road to Capital Gorge, which was rumored to be an easy walk. Points of interest included petroglyphs, the Pioneer Register, and The Tanks. The petroglyphs were a little hard to find. Pioneer Register was about 2/3 of a mile in. That was interesting. Now it would be graffiti and illegal, but the early pioneers who passed down that old wagon track signed their names and the date on the rock face. The oldest were from the late 1800’s.
The Tanks were not by the side of the road. About a mile from the start, there is a sign, “The Tanks .2” and it points up the rock face. Lee said, “No way!” and settled down on a soft rock with two ladies who were waiting for their husbands. I thought, “How hard can .2 miles be, even if it is climbing?” So up I went. It was not straight up like El Capitan, but it was up and it was scrambling over the rocks and it was hot and we only had ½ liter of water each. Still, up I went, following the rock cairns, to view The Tanks. I don’t know what I was expecting, but The Tanks are depressions in the rocks where water collects. You can’t swim in it, you can’t drink it. You just look at them. I looked. I still had to get down the side of the canyon and back out to the car. Down was easier than up, but it was very hot and I was getting tired—and thirsty. When I got down to the trail and staggered over to Lee, he asked me if it was worth it. My response was “(expletive deleted) no!” In retrospect, I’m glad I did it, but at that moment, I wasn’t so sure. We still had a mile to walk out. And it was very hot and water was running low—and getting hotter. I rested for a while then we started out. It was noon. Noel Coward was right, “Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.” The canyon walls were very steep and there was very little shade. At one point when we found some, I said I was going to wait for sunset. I was husbanding my water and would only take small sips, hoping to make it last. We passed Pioneer Register. Yippee! We passed the petroglyphs. Everyone we passed going in I said, “Turn back!” By this point, I was fantasizing about water. We met one group, two men and two little boys. They each had half a liter of water and a bottle of Gatorade. The younger of the boys kept playing with and dropping his Gatorade. By this point, I was so tired and thirsty that I almost said, “Drop that one more time, and it’s mine, kid.” I didn’t. We could almost see the car by then. Back at the car, I drank half a liter of water in one gulp and a bottle of Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda. Nothing ever tasted to good.
I haven't taken a hike since then without more than enough water. Every time I see Gatorade, I think about that hike and the kid I nearly mugged for his bottle.
That's it for now. Next week promises to be more exciting, as it is loaded with appointments--and an act of kindness. Stay tuned.
xxooxx