Torrey to Torrey

 Friday, Sept 16

While Cathy and Bob were delivering Les to the hospital, we remainders walked across the street to a little bar where pizza is served and music is played. There were two guys, one older than my dad and the other younger, playing guitar and singing songs, and occasionally, the same ones together but most of the time, it is not quite clear if they are playing together. Of course, I know what it is to put yourself out there and even though those guys weren't too good, it was entertaining and I bought them each a beer. We were all trying to make the best of a bad situation so maybe it is one small thing to make us all feel  a little better.

But then, we get up to the above view. It is nothing short of amazing and it helps to distract us all from our worrying about Les. He has ended up in Provo, south of Salt Lake City and it is not clear on the course of action for him because it has been decided that the insurance company is going to medivac him home. However, he needs his passport and his money. We decide we are going to courier his wallet, passport, camera and cell phone but in order to get it to him we have to take the package to Richmond, 50 odd miles away, to give directly to the (nearest) Fed-Ex depot so that it can be delivered to the hospital by 10:30 Saturday morning and in time for Les's departure. Cathy has been on the phone for an hour with Les's insurance company trying to get help for Les and to figure out what to do with his bike. We decide to stay in torrey another night but we have to exit the Best Western since they are full, so we are moving to the Sifting Sands or something, just down the road.

Because they have been to Capitol Reef National Park before, they volunteer to take the courier package so that NoNo, Tom and I can ride the park and Sheila and John can go hiking. Our plan is to ride both roads into the park then on to Hanksville and maybe Goblin State Park.

The Eastern Contingent leave and we are behind them about fifteen minutes. NoNo and I start out and Tom is right behind us and what do we see? A Fed-Ex truck heading in the opposite direction. I'm thinking, Bob and Cathy have an 80 or 100 mile round trip and there is a Fed-Ex truck right there. Bob and Cathy are probably still close by and maybe dropping John and Sheila off in Capitol Reef. We could save them a lot of travel if we could only catch that truck and send the envelope through the driver. I immediately turn around and am in hot pursuit. NoNo is trying to tell me that the Fed-Ex guy is not going to have envelopes or be able to take the envelope. We chase him for at least ten km but to no avail so I am suspicious he has turned off the road somewhere because we were travelling at warp speed.

I turn around and promptly run out of gas. I can't believe it because I think I have at least 100 km of gas left in the tank. NoNo is not particularly impressed. Fortunately, we roll into a roadside turnout at the Capitol Reef sign and we wait while Tom does a gas run.

Evenutally, we are checked into the hotel and on our way to Capitol Reef. Our first stop inside the park is at the Grand Wash. This is not a place do to laundry but is a place where rains will wash away the road periodically. In fact, there are signs that say to not travel if a storm is approaching. As we learn, this is a common occurrance in Utah: the land is arrid and parched except for the occasional rain, which turns into a torrent and washes away everything in it's path; usually roads.

Along the Grand Wash Road (sounds like this road is destined for failure if they name it after what is going to happen to it) is an abondoned uranium mine from the late 1800s. Seems uranium was a "cure" for all kinds of things like arthritis, gout, fever and probably common sense, so it was mined here and mixed into water as a drink or worn in a cell phone holder on the belt.

Also in the park, there is the village of Fruita, which is now populated mostly by mostly abandoned fruit trees. However, they do get occasional tending by some government workers and the fruit is available to anyone that wants to pick it. We pick pears, which are still about a week away from being fully ribe but good. We also pick apples. In pie. There is a little homesteaders house with artifacts and pie and the pie is amazing. I totally fall off the cholesterol - free wagon and I can feel my arteries harden with every bite. But I will die happy.

We go on to Hanksville and we know we need to find a place for the next night and our favoured destinations are all booked up. There are two motels in Hanksville and let's face it: Hanksville is in the middle of nowhere. Even one good motel is a blessing and it is clear from the road that there is one good one and one flea bag. We stop in at the good one and they have two rooms available for Saturday night but we need three rooms. We book the two for the Eastern Contingent and go over to The Bad One.  It is nasty. There is litter all over the place plus it is tired and beat up. I go into the office and it stinks like the liquor store we visited the other night that sold tomcats.

I ask to see a room and the lady gives me a key and to my amazement, it doesn't look as terrible as the outside. Nonetheless, I keep my yap shut because we have to wait till Saturday to find out how desperate I will get. We go back to the nice hotel and she promises to phone me if she gets a cancellation. I am not too worried becuase there is another motel about 20 km up the road and maybe we can get in there.

We get back to Torrey and discover that Bob and Cathy had met the same Fed-Ex driver that we saw but we equally unable to get him to take the package.