Chapter Sixteen
War Driving
May 7, 2009—Zion to Bryce: Because yesterday's ride was the most dramatic of our lives, we listened to the philosophers Captain and Tenille and told Zion “Do that to me one more time.” It’s nice to be able to wake up and say “What shall we do today?”
After we got back, it was time to move on to Bryce. Because both nights at Zion saw us getting the last available campsite, the “find a site” stress level was raised significantly. Getting to campgrounds early had become a high priority.
We stopped at the Thunderbird Lodge in Carmel Junction (super small town), and had perhaps the best service we've ever received. Everyone who worked at this place was having a great time, and we rewarded them by ordering a coconut cream pie to split for dessert. This is my new favorite pie flavor. [Ah, the memories of our high-carb days …]
We arrived at Bryce at three in the afternoon, got in free with our National Park Annual Pass, and chose (again!) one of the last remaining campsites. We left one of our bags at the table to reserve the site, registered, and then went to take a peek at the canyon.
As mentioned, the most difficult thing about traveling with everything in the tiny Echo is the problem of finding stuff. The trunk is inaccessible when the bikes are on the rack, and we've learned what needs to live in the passenger compartment. We enforce our “no stuff left behind” policy by making a CDO sweep of every campsite when leaving (CDO is OCD but with the letters in their proper, alphabetical order—OCD is Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). So we are confident that what we’re seeking is “in there somewhere.” But sometimes things just disappear.
One of those times came at the Bryce visitor's center. I needed the “Al's Cold Weather Clothes” bag, and we just couldn't find it. We pretty much took everything out of the car, unloaded the bikes, and pulled out our hair until Lena remembered that that was the bag we’d put on the table at the campsite to reserve it.
Another example is the ElderTang. It's missing. We have not been able to find it. We know it's around somewhere, but it's been AWOL since Zion day one. That could put a crimp in our style.
Back to the narrative: there were trails down into the canyon, but for us, those would have to wait until tomorrow, since it was getting late.
The wind was still rioting, and at 8,000 feet above sea level, the temperature headed south as the afternoon wore on. I was able to shield the dinner fire somewhat, but it was still a blast furnace. The burgers were charred on the outside, red on the inside, and, like, totally good. What’s black and red and good all over? Blast-furnace burgers.
The urge to upload our recent photos grew, and there was no Wi-Fi at the lodge, so it was time for some war-driving—that is, looking for unguarded, unsecured Wi-Fi hotspots. We soon found one outside the “High Plains Institute.” Actually, we think this was a public spot, so we weren’t criminals after all.
An indispensable part of our equipment was the inverter that lets us get 110 AC from the car. With it we could charge up or run the computers, charge batteries for walkie-talkies and flashlights, as well as refresh the cell phone and Gunilla. Everyone had to take turns however, flashlights one day, computers the next, etc.
Stay tuned for Lena’s destruction of a national monument.