Just Around The Bend Episode VI UTAH The National Park

JUST AROUND THE BEND

Episode VI
GREEN RIVER STATE PARK


the lost balls, which we never do. I shot a respectable 46.
Doubled that would mean under 100. We sometimes brag
that we could play any course under 120.

th
Arlene hadn’t slept well last night and by the 7 hole she was
really tired. She likes driving the cart around, so she did the
rest of the way

We were prepared to leave the next morning. In town we
filled the propane tanks and bought some groceries. Driving
back and forth around town we passed a couple of hitch hikers
that we thought we’d offer a ride into Moab, but when we
finally left they were gone.
Back on Interstate 70 we were moving along when we heard a
banging noise outside the RV. The wind was blowing pretty
strong, maybe 45-50 mph, with a lot of dirt devils. As we
pulled over to inspect. ..The awning was loose and blowing in
the wind. There wasn’t anything we could do because the
wind blew into it. We’d have to let it flap, and nurse it until we
could find a downwind place to pull off and fix it.
It was about three miles before an exit. I climbed up on top of
the RV, and between me unrolling from the top, and Arlene
tugging from below we were able to unroll the awning.
Fortunately it










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wasn’t ripped nor were the rails bent. We rolled it back up and
closed, ready for the road.

When we got to Arches we stopped to ask about campsites.
They were full for today, but tomorrow it was first come first
serve. We’d come back early. Outside the park we saw the
two young men, hitching again. This time we picked them up
and headed for Moab.

These two young fellows in their late teens were from
Germany. They had spent the previous year in Montreal as
exchange students. One was a small guy about 6’2” the other
was 6’6”. They were headed for the BLM campground just
outside of Moab, along the Colorado River. We dropped
them off, wished them good luck, and went into Moab for the
night.





















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CHAPTER 5



A STRANGE PLACE TO WADE


MOAB



CISCO: A Ghost Town


WESTWATER


























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Moab is this wonderful small desert town backed up against
the La Salle Mountains on the East, and bordered by the
Colorado River and Canyonlands to the West. It’s outdoor
activities are many and all supported by tours, with lots of
choices. We had a lot to do, but a White Water tour was on
the top of our list.

We thought this was the place for us to take the plunge, to go
down the Colorado through it’s white water.

After looking over a few tours we chose Tag-A- Long for it’s
Westwater adventure. They didn’t take pictures of the rafting
tours. So we asked around town, but found that no one did.
So we bought a couple of disposable waterproof Kodak’s. We
were now ready for the White Water Trip.

Turning into town we wandered around to see what was
happening. At the library we found they charged tourists
$20.00 for the internet. It’s a neat library but, they charged to
much for visitors. We went around the corner to an Internet
Café, where T1, a super high speed connection cost $3.50. We
checked our mail and sent Alyx an e-mail. She starts a new job
next month. I wonder if it will be the one where she meets
Jim. Let’s hope so.
Down from the café we stopped at the Visitors Center where a
fellow recommended a barber. I must have looked like I
needed one. I went there and for $10.00 bucks got my hair cut
and heard all the good town gossip.






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We stopped at the Moab Dinner for lunch. Arlene had Green
Chili, without beans, and I had the Santa Fe special; salad,
chicken stuffed jalapenos and Spanish rice. We split a
chocolate chip mint, malted milk shake. I don’t care how
chocolate chip mint ice creams comes; I’ll take it.

Because we couldn’t get into Arches just yet we were staying in
Moab at a private RV camp. There was a Rodeo in town
which we signed up for. It was easy, we were picked up at the
RV camp and driven to the Rodeo.

Everyone gets dressed for the Rodeo. Men usually wear..
starched shirts, and jeans, boots, long sideburns and longer
mustaches. Women, just about the same except a little tighter
and a whole lot prettier.

We were dressed in our best Rodeo fashion. Arlene wore her
jeans, and Wyoming shirt with a bucking bronco on it. I wore
a pressed shirt, jeans, a wide Half-Dollar belt, cowboy boots
and summer cowboy straw hat.
For our first Rodeo we had no clue how rough and tough they
were. The first rider, on a bare back bucking bronco, broke
out of the gate leaping up and down twisting left and right,
across the arena straight into the fence beside us. We were in
shock. The cowboy hung on. He was nowhere as disturbed as
we were.

Boy! For our first Rodeo we were really unprepared. OH! how
it shook us up. It seemed like everyone in the arena walked
with a limp. That’s got to tell us something.




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It wasn’t all brutal like the broncos and bull riding. The calf
roping, and barrel racing was much easier to watch.

Best of all was how smart the horses were. They knew when
to go, when to stop, and when to pull back until the poor little
calf was dragged backwards. They even cornered some critters
making it easier for them to be lassoed.

The announcer was on horseback, with huge red chaps, and
the sponsors name, DODGE in large white letters. He helped
us appreciate what was happening.
We weren’t all that comfortable as there was something in the
air, probably wood and dung dust. After a while Arlene’s
sinuses started acting up, her nose ran and eyes turned red.
The seating was getting to us also. These were open benches,
and really hard on your back and rump.

Fortunately we took our Not-A-Chairs with us. I’d never have
made it through the night without it. They are padded slings
that wrap around your back and attach to your knees. Thus
giving a lot of support. Arlene’s is burgundy, mine looks like
the rainbow, multi colored. Beside that we had a good time,
and survived the rough riders.

Outside of town besides the jeep trails, are a number of paved
roads. These side roads are special for driving and scenery.
We’ve driven several of them.

One looped around Moab into the mountains. It’s about 50
miles and climbs up into the east of Moab, into the La Salle
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leveled off around 8,000 and as usual we lost our breath
walking around in the grass. Yes real grass and wild flowers in
the cool air; Black-eyed Susan’s, Purple Mountain Iris, Red
Trumpets, and Daisies.

It was a great view. To our west Moab was lost in the folds of
canyons and red rocks. North of us was more desert and red
rock towers standing in isolation against the further canyons.
There was no sign of the grand old river. Even though it runs
through making a name sake mark. From here however it
hardly makes a trace.

We wound around the mountain side into one ravine and out
as we skirted from the south of Moab to the far north. We
descended down through Capital Valley to Route 128. There
we came to the muddy swift moving silt filled Colorado and
followed it back into town. The snow melt still caused the
river to run high as it heads for it’s first dam way down at
Page, Arizona.

We’ve talked about our favorite drives and roadways around
the United States. The route from Moab to Cisco headed
toward Colorado is Route 128 and one our top roadways. It’s
in the top 5. We’ll take it again and again in the next several
years.
We signed up for the Westwater rafting trip with Tag-A-Long.
It’s only fair to describe our rafting trip before we actually do
it. ‘Westwater Canyon






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st
is located northeast of Moab and is the 1 canyon along the
Colorado River within Utah. This was the last section of the
Colorado River to be navigated. Many adventurous boaters
choose it first for a short, day long challenge. Westwater is a
white water trip, 17 miles long, with eleven rapids that range in
difficulty up to Class IV, out of VI rating system.

We had read several descriptions of the trip, from the Bureau
of Land Management and rafting magazines, but none were as
comprehensive as Tag-A-Long, our touring company. Here’s
what they advertied.

‘As the Colorado River descends into Westwater Canyon the walls begin
to close in while rising to 1200 feet. Due to the narrowing of the rock
strewn channel with it’s fast water and high canyon it’s always
challenging, during the boating season. They build in excitement as the
raft progresses through Marble canyon’s rapids. Then as Marble canyon
ends, the raft enters Stair Case rapids for a series of deep trough waves
that rock the raft from side to side as they try to fill them with water.
Leaving the enthusiast wet and smiling from ear to ear. A short distance
downstream is the entrance to Big Hummer rapid,. One that delivers a
wild splash and a big hole that guides must maneuver through or around.
Of all the reasons to make it around the Big Hummer upright the most
important is to be ready for Funnel Falls. A truly breath taking drop
that offers the best adrenaline rush that every river runner is looking for.
The pace of the river runs even faster now, as the next two rapids,
Surprise and No Name go flashing by. Now it’s time to regroup and
prepare for the one every one talks about ….SKULL….’.





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Well that’s the idea. But, we won’t go for a couple of days,
although we can hardly wait.

My back is sore from golf, and the rodeo. Today we did
chores. First, we went up to Arches, where there was a long
line waiting to get in. We signed up for the Campground and
Firey Furnace hike. To my surprise I had to pay twice
Arlene’s fee, just because I’m so much younger, and didn’t
have a Golden Age Pass. The federal government doesn’t’
think I’ve earned it yet; the Golden Age Pass. Usually we can
get by with only her pass. Like in the Grand Canyon, Zion,
Bryce, Capital Reef, Death Valley and all the others for free.
























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What a strange beginning we had for our rafting trip. Our
guide looked like, sounded like and was as congenial as Dan.
Only half his age. Tall, thin, sociable, his name was James. He
was a the most convincing young man who knew a lot about
everything, including what he didn’t; making him quite
charming.

We were picked up on a Blue Bird school bus, with a long
trailer attached and 4, 20 foot long blue Avon inflatables. The
driver, also named James, must have been at the rodeo as his
mustache was wider than face. He looked like Yosemite Sam,
without the guns or hat.

At Tag-A-Long all 23 of us signed once again not to hold
them libel. The 4 guides joined us and we took off for the 2
hour ride across the desert to the Ranger Station at Westwater.

We took Rt 128 north along the Colorado into the open
plains, where the cheap grass, a poor quality range grass grows.
We never saw any cattle grazing. There were a couple of
antelope and a coyote.
Route 128 was replaced by Interstate 70 at least 35 years ago,
so it’s in poor repair, and had no traffic. We approached one
of the several towns that had been left behind by the
Interstate. Cisco, used to be competitive for the Capital of
Utah. Now it’s desolate, a ghost town, with a solitary golden
eagle circling above it.







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Now it has more skeletons laying in the high desert. Skeletons
of mining equipment, trucks, and deep well equipment. Old
houses made of 6X6 timber, with empty frames of doors and
windows. Several buildings had collapsed, and there were
holes covered with planks, once used as root cellars and
tornado shelters.











































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No trees, or shrubs not even sage or creosote. It was a barren
landscape, with broken asphalt and sandy dirt outlining where
there were once roads.

We’ve never seen anything like it. Mining is big in this part of
the country, and has been for years. Yet it’s changed; now it’s
more of an big company enterprise than seat of the pants
individuals. Cisco had had its day.








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Just beyond Cisco we arrived at the Rangers Station. There
were 3 other outfits there all preparing to float down the river.
We wondered how they found it, and where they came from.

On the way up we had talked with our guide James and he
really spilled the beans. We heard about the rapids, their rating
system, water holes, whirlpools, the upper Colorado, the
dammed Colorado, the Colorado Westwater. He told us about
the confluence of the Green and Colorado, which doubled the
amount of water, and the cataracts further down stream that
flowed through the Grand Canyon.

That wasn’t all, if we hadn’t arrived at the put-in we’re not sure
when he would have quit. It was as good as any Rangers
lecture.
































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There were the stories about his family. He the oldest, a
Mormon, and honor student, that thought 500 students in a
class at the University of Utah was a rip-off and after 2 years
took a break.
He’s been white water rafting since he was 5 years old. We
were pretty lucky to have him as a guide. Guides used to stay
for 10 years, but salaries haven’t kept up with the demand.
Now there are more openings. He used to work the ‘Dailies’,
then up to Westwater, as soon as he got his professional
license. He has now been assigned to the Cataracts; the most
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and challenging run the company offered. That’s not for us.
This will be exciting enough.

Upon arrival everyone went to work. They unloaded the boats,
the food, life jackets, drinking water, rafting gear lines and so
on. Then they loaded all of it into the boats. Two boats were
paddled by the customers. Right from the beginning I’d put
my white water experiences behind me. The amount of water
was over 9,000 cubic feet per second, and even more in the
funnels. We weren’t ready for that, and chose to go with James
and two others.

This picture shows James,the guide, Chad Nickelson, who
added all the play by play at the Rodeo the other night, and led
the Parade through town. He’s one of 12 full time Rodeo
announcers for the National Rodeo Association. His girl and
mine, Arlene.

Even after realizing I wasn’t prepared for such a trip I’d still
try to apply my experience to what was happening. The same
principals applied, for holes, eddies, funnels, water flow, sieves,
and the new one whirl pools.
We pushed off, with only a few rules:

1: Hold on to the guy lines.

2: Always look down river at what’s coming.
3: Keep him in view.

4: Do what he says.





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He also talked about falling into the water, what to do and
how to communicate.
1: Your water position should be just like a boat,

feet first with bent legs.
2: If your okay, pat your head. If not raise your fist.

3: Try your best to keep him in sight.

We developed a lot of confidence right from the start. As we
moved along the stream was swift, but flat. I asked about
whirlpools, holes and upside down boats. He replied ‘You
could get out of any of these whirlpools.



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The ‘Room of Boom’s’ beside the Skull rapids was bad, but
the way out was to climb ashore, and then up over the cliff.
Don’t try the river route, because of the relationship between
the wall of water that the skull rapid feeds into. The black
rocks narrowed there at the skull increasing the flow into a
class IV with waves 5 or 6 feet extending out over a hundred
feet. At the same time the river turns and runs along a shear
cliff, raising the water up 10 feet.’ Wow! I’d have to watch
what I asked about.

As we reached the Marble and Stair Case Rapids the bow rose
high above the first wave and then dove deep down into the
trough. The next wave came over the bow by 2 feet. I was
drenched, and holding the Guy line with both hands. James
had warned us of the high waves and how we should hold on.
If he yelled ‘high side’ we were supposed to move to it as fast
as possible as the boat could be flipped. It didn’t happen our
bow throughout stayed down steam.
Those were easy. Our next set of rapids caused us to fling
ourselves toward the wall. Pretty scary, and I’ll admit, took no
pictures.

We were now approaching The Funnel. It had 3 to 6 foot
waves for 300 feet. We entered the trough, a generally calm
triangular flow where the water flows between two underwater
boulders into itself. The first wave dipped us way down and
then way up. Yippee! Like being on a bucking bronco. Down
into the next trough and again another wave over our heads.





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Our self draining rafts were full of water, and we were more
sluggish to respond. Down the nose went again as we smashed
through another wave. I’d ducked the first one, taking the
blunt of it on my head. The grimy gritty water never-the-less
swirled in my mouth, between my teeth. The shock of the icy
cold water ran down my back and over my legs. Soaked I
looked up as we took another and another. Each crashing
over me as I kept my head down. I lost sight of where we
were going while continuing taking another icy cold drenching.

Being on the bow had it advantages. I’d see what was coming
before anyone, thus being able to prepare. On the other
hand, Arlene, and everyone in back didn’t get the drenching
waves busting over their head. Nor did James, he sat several
feet above everyone. They seemed to pass around and beside
him.
As we moved down stream we became better at addressing
the waves, more agile as we moved from side to side. As we
were more relaxed we paid more attention to the country side.
It’s beautiful and mostly wilderness. There may still be a few
renegade miners and bank robbers, but mostly the Bureau of
Land Management has cleared them out.

I’d decided to use one hand for my survival and one for the
waterproof camera. We were coming into the Skull Rapid and
the Pre-Cambrian rock. It was black, shiny and slick, much
different than the red Wingate Sandstone above it.






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The two don’t go together as the pre-Cambrian is the
oldest stone known on the earth’s crust while the sandstone is
a layer of silt and sediment laid down during the last sea.












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We crashed though the Skull and onward. My camera plan
didn’t work, but by the time we’d reached more subtle class II
water, I’d used all the pictures from both cameras.
Just before we stopped for lunch, most of our rapids were
behind us. In the calmer water we rafted our inflatable’s, tying
them together, having lunch as we drifted. There was plenty
of fresh water; so I rinsed my mouth out. There was a salad of
tomatoes, kidney beans, lettuce and black olives, sandwiches
and for desert, watermelon, oranges and cookies







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If anyone needed to relieve themselves they were asked to slip
overboard. That was quite different than most, as we were use
to hearing that we should dig a hole, go and then cover it.
Take a look at this water, would you go over board?

There were some calm areas near the end of the run. It was
okay and with a full stomach we appreciated the rest.











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We unloaded the light stuff, while the guides loaded up the
trailer again as we climbed into the bus. Our ride back to
Moab was quiet. Everyone napped as we drove back through
Cisco, and it’s 4x8 plywood post office. We went back across
the cheat grass down to the River and along it into Moab.
It was a swell day, and we were really tired.











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CHAPTER 6


ARCHES NATIONAL PARK


FIVE AREAS


FIREY FURNACE


LANDSCAPE ARCH



MOAB























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This has been a relaxing day. The only thing we miss is
electricity. We got up to the Arches entry point early, around
6:00 am and waited for our pass into camp. It’s 18 miles up
and into the Devils Garden Campground. A pretty drive.
Here we have found a nice flat site #7. We know where the
amphitheater is for the evening Ranger’s presentation and
where to go tomorrow for the Firey Furnace hike.

It’s hot so for the rest of the day we have just sweat in the 90
plus heat and relaxed. Arlene read and I wrote. This evening
for dinner we’ll have hot dogs, skinless potatoes and a salad.
For the next few days we’ll swelter in the sun and then maybe
find a way get out of the heat. Our rafting trip gave us an idea.






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We drove some 50 miles or more to get to Westwater. Maybe
we do the same for a camp site with electricity. That way we
could drive 50 miles each way but spend the nights in air
condition bliss. There must be some wonderful sites in The
Canyonlands or in the State Park, Dead Horse Point, where
there’s electricity, and we could commute back and forth to
the Arches for hiking’s and sightseeing. We’ll see.



FIVE AREAS


There’s five areas in Arches National park. The Salt Valley,
Devils Garden, Firey Furnace, The Windows, and Park
Avenue.
The Salt Valley was known for the mohair like soft colorful hill
sides. These were green, yellow, some shades of red, from
pinkish to deep maroon. We collected some from each. It’s
so beautiful, as it gathers the sun and shows like soft colored
moss.

We camped in the Devils Garden area. During the stay we
choose the parks namesakes arches to hike around. Name
sakes like, Landscape, Partition, Pine and Tunnel. These all
had easy trails, never more than 3-5 miles.








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But we also wondered off on our own to different arches.
They were all amazing and the hikes were enjoyable. Some off
road hikes led us to remote areas, over rolling mounds of
sandstone, others into small canyons with hidden arches. The
park doesn’t have any mountains, and is without forests. That
openness and that we hadn’t seen any wild animals encourages
us to hike around and into places where we would usually
wouldn’t venture. As a result I scrabbled to the top of this
mound and only scrapped my knees.

Every evening we sat under the Skyline Arch listening to a
Rangers presentation while awed by millions of stars.





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The Firey Furnace, a third, area had the Furnace Maze, inside
it, but also a homestead called Wolf Ranch, and the famous
Delicate Arch. The latter is now the symbol of the Park.
We were attracted to the Delicate Arch because a neighboring
camper had seen Big Horn Sheep there. We hiked to it in
early morning, 7 am. From the parking lot it was a long
multiple mile climb along layers of red slick rock. It’s hard
sandstone that looks like jello pudding or poured pancake
batter. Ever since we’d seen it outside of Zion, and Escalante
we’d wanted to hike on it.







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We hiked over a wash, and around the top of more slick rock
to the Delicate Arch. It’s a beautiful , lonely arch at the top of
a bowl of red stone, with the La Sal Mountains in the
background.
Except for the wash there was little sand along the way. Small
piles of rock carin marked the trail. Throughout the climb we
could see for miles around us. An occasional plant would
cling to life where the wind and rain had created small pockets.
We were too late for the Big Horn Sheep. At the arch we sat,
ate some fruit, drank and rested. The trip down like most
hikes was a little more difficult on our hips and knees.





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The forth area is The Windows. We wandered into it while
driving around and found ourselves in the most beautiful red
rock area in the Park. It is probably the most popular area in
the park.

From the roadside we could look up upon amphitheater after
amphitheater; maybe four in all. Above them were the
Pothole, Cove and Double Arch.







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We scrambled up the massive Double Arch, until we were
under the largest of the two, then after a rest further up into
the second. From there we could see into another
amphitheater where the elements, the wind, rain, and sun were
working on additional arches.





















This was our favorite area in the park. The number and
massive size, and access to climbing near these arches was the
best. Lots of visitors come to the double arch. It’s a long


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climb, all up hill for a mile, before your beneath them. We
would go a ways, stop, rest and then climb some more. Along
the way we met a couple form New Zealand. They had rented
an RV and were taking the summer to cross the United States,
ending in New York, where they would fly home.




















You can just drive around and see many interesting sites and
imagine how things have changed and how they will in the
future. Here at the Teetering Rock it’s not hard to imagine
when it will fall.









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Park Avenue at the top of the long climb from the Park’s
entrance is the fifth area. As you might imagine it’s a long
parallel area where the tall fins, redstone pillars stand along
each other on either side of the wide tail.
































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FIREY FURNACE


The National Park Service doesn’t want anyone to get lost.
They even have rescue squads that help find you if you do. In
addition to rescuing lost tourists, they have taken another step
to save us. They have introduced guided tours for a small fee.
One such tour is the Firey Furnace. It is a good idea as
anyone could get lost in it’s maze.

Cathy our guide knew her way around, but she had a high
shrill voice that would split a fine wine glass into pieces, and
she sounded like a recording as she droned along.
We quickly solved that problem, by moving to the back of the
bunch. There were 25 tourists in our group. Usually that’s too
many, resulting in several obnoxious ones. In this case a
couple of teenagers and their father, who had to keep up.
Arlene says they were rambunctious. I called them ‘smart ass’
jerks.
The Firey Furnace is a tightly knit area filled with fins, arches,
narrow sandstone gorges, and ravines. The hike is called
moderately strenuous . That meant we would need both
hands free to climb along the ravines using a 4 point or even 5
point technique. We would move down crevices that were less
than a foot wide, and in some cases narrowing to 3 inches or
less. Narrow enough to catch a foot, and squeeze it together
not letting loose.







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We signed up as soon as we arrived in the park. Our tour
began at 10:00 am, a little late in the day we thought. By
staying in the rear we weren’t annoyed by either the jerks or
the screechy voiced guide. We could also take our time going
from one stressed out area to another, taking lots of pictures
behind us, where we had been, without lots of tourists in the
photos.

We began walking down along the side of these towering red
rocks, with an open view of a large valley. Down we went, but
not walking on the sand. Down from one boulder to another.
It was quite a begining. We


































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climbed down using both hands to help, with drops of 2 feet
or more. Those are partially hard on our knees and leg
muscles. As we dropped we came to a sandy wash, with
boulders on each side with Juniper and Mormon Tea bushes
growing out from between them. Overhead was the cloudless
blue southwestern sky.

The wash was narrow, less than 5 feet wide. It led up a
winding narrowing path onto a 3 foot ledge. We edged along
between two shear walls for several hundred feet. From time
to time the sun would slip through from above.
We could see potholes, or indentations in the flatten rocks.
Often they would have standing water in them and little
creatures swimming around. They looked like miniature
shrimp. Any time there was a 3 foot gap between these
boulders there was usually a small bridge or arch above. We
had to look up to see them.
Often after scrambling up one of the narrow crevices we
would return the same direction. We heard the guide as she
passed say that most of this geologic formation was created by
water passing over the soft sandstone.











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After an hour it became clear how important our guide was if
we ever wanted to get out. One wash turned into another or
split in two. We’d climb over a narrow slice between several
rocks and be in another network of washes. We’d climb along
a ledge and through a narrow 12 inch passage where there was
no light, out into another group of washes to follow, then split
off.

The Firey Furnace was a maze of these ravines, canyons and
washes. The fins and rocks were not organized in just a
parallel fashion. Even though that’s their drift they have
weathered and changed so our path way was more like moving
along a 3 dimensional checker board following diagonal,
straight and sideways, up and down patterns.

When we finally began our exit we again started down. This
time there were no open valleys, but more shear rocks. We
climbed down 60 feet between the huge boulders onto a flat
set of rocks which opened up into a bowl. Around it and down
another 60 feet to the bottom. Once down we wound around
several rocks down another 40 feet until we came out beside
one of the huge sandstones like when we entered the maze.
For us to realize that we had no idea where we were or how
we got there we only needed to look further down the valley.
There, below us was our RV. How could we have seemed to
climb down from the beginning to the end of this hike and still
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Many explorers have cautioned well meaning hikers, who have
a good sense of direction. It’s a good lesson. Finding your
way, having a good sense of direction comes from identifying
landmarks, being observant, and retracing your path. It
otherwise comes from compasses, topographical maps, and
other equipment. Never believe that it’s a natural gift.

This was a tough and rough hike. Arlene had fallen twice.
Both times when we were traveling over very narrow shear
crevices. The first time she slid along the rocks until wedged;
banging her left arm, cutting a 2 inch gash, and leaving her a
bruise the size of an egg.

The other was a 5 point traverse, where she used both her
hands, feet, and either hip or butt while making her way down
a narrow passage. At the end she tried stepping out, but it
might have been too soon, as she slipped down again wedging
her foot in the ‘V’. We got her out okay, with only a softball
sized egg on her thigh.
These were the external and visible bruises. Both of us had
stretched and stressed our muscles so that we had lost most of
our strength in all limbs. My knees were weak, calf muscles
pulsed, and my butt was bruised.

Back at camp battered and bruised we iced our sores, patched
our cuts and scrapes, and relaxed with a bottle of wine. Upon
inspection Arlene has a few more bruises and another 2 inch
cut, that we couldn’t account for. It may have come the other




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day from the rafting trip. When jostled about in the raft over
the class III and IV rapids.

If it was possible to intimidate us, this didn’t work. We both
felt that we were exhilarated by these two experiences. We
enjoyed them and signed up for two more torturous nights in
the hot weather, with no electricity. Who knows what we were
going to do with them.



























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Most campgrounds have hosts, some are pretty knowledgeable
and have been at it for many years. Larry our host is one of
them, here at Arches for 9 years, he probably knows as much
as most of the rangers, who come and go at 6 month intervals.
He came from Tennessee.

We were talking to him about the hike to Landscape Arch the
longest arch of all at 360 feet. He told us several stories about
tourists, how often they were unprepared and needed help.
Water and dehydration is a huge problem. Back a few years
ago he helped rescue a 300 pound man who was out on the
primitive trail, an extension of the Landscape and Navajo
trails. He hadn’t eaten breakfast, had taken no water with him
and wore a tea shirt, shorts and no hat.

It was 110 degrees and 3 pm in the afternoon when Larry got
to him. Thanks to a few hikers he had gotten a little water so
he was able to get a little more water down him and a power
bar for nourishment. Taking a lot of time resting in any shade
he could find he limped back to the parking lot. Fortunately
for the fellow. Had the rescuers saved him they might have
charged him by the pound.

Another time a couple hiked out with their baby on their back.
The same story unfolded they didn’t have any water wore flip
flops and no hats. The child was facing into the sun as they
walked. When he got to them the baby’s face was flushed. He
soaked a handkerchief and put it over the child’s head and




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face. Larry said he led them into the shade and had a talk with
them.

What we’ve observed over the years is that tourists, do two
stupid things.
First, they come unprepared with either the wrong clothes and
shoes, and/or with the wrong amount of water and food.
They not only come unprepared, but they stay unprepared
regardless of how the weather changes.

Second, both tourists and campers mistreat the wild animals.
Mostly, because they have very little experience or sense about
the natural environment. They as do Arlene and I live in such
a different world.
I recall years ago when some ‘Fresh Air Kids’ were visiting my
mother’s farm in Pennsylvania.. They had never seen a worm
or a bee. When playing dodge ball they always threw at the
person’s head, believing that was their center of gravity. They
just didn’t understand either center of gravity or what our hips
represent.

Those are extreme examples , but represent the education and
misunderstanding of our natural world. It’s a shame.
We left for the Landscape Arch at 11 am. A bit late, with our
backpack filled with good survival things, and a couple bottles
of water. The trail was easy, no narrow crevices or boulders to






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climb. The red sandstone, fins stood up 200 feet or more
across the area we hiked. We wove our way in and out of
these long fins. When they lay beside each other it provided
shade for us. If two together they created a wind tunnel. Both
were welcome and we learned to take advantage of them,
stopping at each spot to cool our bodies. It was like running
your hands and face under cool refreshing, running water;








































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The Landscape Arch looked small when we first saw it. As we
approached it got larger. Spanning a hillside 360 feet it’s really
thin. As water cuts through the sandstone all the arches and
landscape are changing. Once visitors could walk up and under
this long arch. But since 1991 when a chunk fell it’s been
closed off. We sat in the sand and shade while having a bit to
eat and drink before heading back. We were out for about 4
hours. The heat of the day was starting to get to us. My
stomach was feeling queezy.






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