"No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth."
~ Robert Southey
Heading west, into the late afternoon sun, we bounce and scramble our way back to Teapot Rock and our campsite for the night. A short distance as distances are measured, but eventful nonetheless....
Roger makes it look easy...
I think I spilled my Diet Coke here....
"We should do this more often."
With time on our side and clouds creeping in overhead, we set a leisurely pace, certain that we will get somewhere eventually. The clouds smother the natural light and forecast precipitation for later in the evening. Doesn't matter. The Dad's are content, testing the limits of their vehicles, paying careful attention to every tight squeeze, blind turn and steep drop-off. The ladies, all great sports, laugh and chat while the kids explore this new world. Nary a ball busted, it's an excellent group to be with in such a challenging and rugged environment.
Up, up and away...
With mad skills and no fear, Nic pulls his trailer through it all...
We reach our destination in short order, which seemed to be just the right timing for our group. Camp is quickly set up under Teapot Rock, while kids run free, Nic gets his coals going for his Dutch Oven dinner and Roger finds a "flat-enough" spot to set up his tent. My contribution to the group is opening a cold beer and staying out of the way. I'm drawn to Nic's Volcano Kettle, where he's heating his coals and find myself in the familiar role of (briefly) tending the fire. Like all of Nic's equipment, this is a fun piece to use. He's got all the cool toys and vital equipment, no doubt.
Dinner is a full-on family affair. Nic has this great Dutch Oven meal that I've been fortunate to experience before: eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, maple syrup and whatever else is rolling around in his fridge. It is comfort-food at it's best. We all enjoyed that last dinner together, feeling a warm bowl of food in our hands, dining by LED headlamps and lantern light.... We were tired and hungry, and that dinner was one of the best camp meals I can recall. With belched compliments to the chef, many of us upon finishing dinner retreated to our warm sleeping bags, leaving poor Nic to KP duty. Like every situation I've seen him in, Nic took it in stride with a smile on his face. The guy is a rock and as generous as anyone I've ever known.
The sun rises before I do....
I'm awakened the following morning by the sound of a vehicle approaching our camp. It is the park ranger in his Jeep JK, heading out after 4 days in the Maze. He passes by without stopping but I take that cue to get up and get my coffee going. While the water begins to heat up, I take a short walk outside to see what the day has to offer. Despite the clouds covering the full moon the night before, we experienced only a couple of sprinkles throughout the evening. As if it can't make up it's mind, the horizon is a mix of clear blue skies, billowy clouds and ominous black colors. It seems that packing up quickly would be in our best interest, so that is what we do...
Teapot Rock morning...
Saddened by the thought of leaving, but desperate for some of that indoor plumbing at the Hite Marina rest area, plus wanting to stay ahead of whatever may be blowing in, I proceed to make hasty tracks. Knowing we have the slow-going part of the trail behind us, with nothing but sandy soft tracks and the occasional hoopty ahead of us, I blast down the trail to Hite. With a little bit of a guilty conscience and a gut begging for relief, I leave my companions in a long coud of dust. My guilt tripled when I hear that in Nic's attempt to keep up with me through the curves and dips in the trail, that sweet Kenzie has projected her breakfast all over Nic's backseat. Some friend I am....
Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now....
We regroup at Hite and Roger & I air up our tires while Nic begins the task of cleaning up Kenzie and his backseat. As penance for the vomit inducing ride out and in return for coming to my rescue more than once, I help air Nic up as well, just as the wind & rain whip themselves up into a frenzy. It's raining cold and hard and sideways in the parking area but at this point, we don't mind much. We had made it through the Maze before the weather turned on us. Now it's 30 miles or so to Hanksville on the pavement, to gas up and head home. We finish airing up just as the winds really begin to roar and the falling rain begins to sting. Our timing was perfect.
With the winds really blowing now in gusts that jerk the steering wheel in your hands, we make it back to Hanksville. A quick fill up and we pull over to say our farewells at this crossroads of adventure, the Hollow Mountain gas station. Nic hears a weather forecast and it doesn't sound good. More wind and possibly snow on the way home for he and Roger, and Heaven only knows what I'll run into further north. But we'll deal with that when we come to it.
Before we leave Hanksville, I want to thank Nic, always a gentleman and friend, for the invitation. He generously assisted me with my tire situation, fed me the best meal of the trip and allowed me to be a part of his family. I know I'll see him, his lovely ladies and his Dutch Oven again down the road somewhere. Anywhere.... And Roger, mild mannered teacher by day, adventure hound whenever the opportunity presents itself. We were fortunate enough to feel like part of his family, as young Alexander took me by the hand and let me see a familiar place to me, with brand new eyes. It took me awhile and a lot of peek-a-boo with little Olivia to get a smile, but once she did, what a pay-off. I left Hanksville that day with a renewed appreciation of friends and family. And maybe even a little envy...
Thanks Nic & Roger for the invitation and making us part of your families. Let's do it again soon!
I wished my friends well and turned out of Hanksville, heading north towards I-70 and home to Wyoming. I decided to turn my cell phone on, certain we would have reception for most of the ride home. Within seconds it starts buzzing an alert that I have new text messages:
Message one - "Bad snow storm in Lander. Chain law in effect on South Pass. Forecasting 14 inches."
Message two -
"Don't try to come home today. Almost a foot of snow on the ground & falling. South Pass closed."
Suddenly we are a vehicle without a country, two dirty people with nowhere to go. We varify the weather on our laptop & pirated wi-fi in Hanksville. It's true. Our county is getting hammered with an early Fall storm and we have no way to get back home, the roads are closed and probably would be for a couple of days. Time to panic or time to pull out the map and see where else we might pass the time? C'mon, you know me by now. California, here we come! But that's a tale and trip for another time....
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