We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all of our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. ~T.S. Elliott

Moab, UT

I have a few philosophies on camping: one's wardrobe should consist of a swimsuit, tee, and shorts at maximum; one's bathing should be done in a lake or not at all; time no longer is relevant in dictating one's schedule. Therefore, my nemophilia roommate, Amy, and I took a lack approach to this camping trip. We planned it as we went along, we packed at our leisure, nobody was in a huge rush. My friend Nathan (who looked identical to Joe Dirt, mullet and handlebar stache and all) joined us in this lackadaisical weekend outing to Arches and Canyonlands. 

Amy was in charge of directions. While she had the correct directions, she failed to keep track of where we were while driving (that Wuthering Heights was just too good to put down). Nathan ended up going on a few scenic detours thanks to her enthrallment with one of the worst books ever written. Moab freaked me out. You literally go from the middle of nowhere to a mini, bustling city-thing. They have restaurants, hotels, grocery stores, all sorts of rental stores, and it’s all in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Creepiest experience ever.

It was late and frankly, I was tired from being up since 6 that morning. My whole thought on camping for this trip was to copy how the Lake Powell experience went last time: just find a random spot to plop down on. Moab is a bit smarter than Powell though and you are required to camp in designated camp sites. This was something I was not aware of. It was way too late to politely go around and ask people to share their campsites, and so we went searching for any sites that were open. However, it’s prime time camping season for Moab, so none were available. We then made the decision to go find a bike trail head and go off the side of the road and camp. We were successful in finding a spot underneath these electrical wires which buzzed all night and had the spikiest brush I've ever felt. Maybe it’s because I’m cheap or maybe it’s because I enjoy breaking the law, but every time we came up to a campsite or parking lot that required us to pay for the service, I immediately tried thinking of ways we could get out of paying or try not paying at all to see if it really was enforced. I never expressed these out loud, but I do wonder how strictly those parking lots and campsites are enforced. I’ll have to double-check one day…

Here are a few reasons why my roommate, Amy Lavonne Clark, is the absolute coolest person on the planet. Her dad’s name is Lewis Clark. She is fiercely passionate about plants. She was paid to capture pygmy rabbits last summer. She's on the BYU plant identification team. She’s had swine flu. Why is Amy the perfect person to bring along on any camping trip? Amy serves as a personal plant-life audio tour and she is a wicked trailblazer, all while being barefoot. 

The next morning we entered Arches and drove around looking at some of the arches from the road, we climbed up on Balancing Rock, and then we headed to Delicate Arch. We got there at the perfect time, it wasn’t too hot and the rocks were still cool to the touch so you could climb all over them. We saw the super intricate Indian petroglyphs, got caught behind an intense Asian family and distanced ourselves from a huge youth group. I’ve never hiked on a real trail before, I’ve always sort of made my own trails I guess. So when we came up to these hilarious rock structures called cairns, I just couldn't help but laugh. I just thought they were the funniest things because they're basically a pile of well-placed rocks. Some cairns were fancier than others, but I was a fan of the ones with the baby rock on the top. 

We hiked up to one part before delicate arch which was basically a preview which you could look through the window and see Delicate Arch from afar. That was way tight. Then we hiked the rest of the way to Delicate Arch and it was bomb. So bomb. It’s this huge arch with a massive bowl right next to it and it was illy. We climbed a few rocks next to it, took some pics, and then went down into the bowl area. Whilst there, Amy and Nathan had the idea to just go around to the other side of the bowl and climb up to the window preview of Delicate Arch where we had just been. I thought they were joking because the entire bowl is slick rock. Yes, there were footholds leading up to the window but it was still slick rock, so it seemed like an unrealistic climb. Nope. They were totally serious. And so we headed sideways inside the bowl to the other side and started climbing up the footholds to get to the window. While we were climbing, the youth group we had passed previously literally dropped four water bottles into the bowl and made this one kid go down there 4 times to retrieve them. I was impressed with the care for the environment this one young lad had. 

We then started our hike back and Amy, our fearless trailblazer and child at heart, led us up all these way fun rocks. They were fun to climb and the views were beyond ill. When we finally got back on the trail of cairns (ha ha), we ran into a mud puddle with tons of little tadpoles. I wanted a pet for the trip, and this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. So we scooped up a little friend to save him from sure doom. His name is Taddington Tadpole the Third, or Taddy for family and close friends. *4 weeks later and Taddington has gotten really big and is living comfortably in my garage.* 

We hiked to a couple more arches, but mainly we bouldered all over the place in Arches. As we were hiking to Double 0 Arch, my animal taming skills came in useful and I made friends with Felicia, the desert lizard. It doesn’t matter that I can’t catch an animal to save my life (you really need to open your fingers to be bigger than the size of the lizard), because animals love me and this was the case with Felicia. She ran and hung  out on my foot for a good while until I tried walking with her on top of it, then she scurried off and I tried to catch her and accidentally pulled off a small part of her tail. Don’t worry, we’re still BFF. 

I came to somewhat of a sad realization while we were bouldering. For some reason when I hit 20, the common sense switch turned on in my head and I realized I am no longer the fearless Rachel Schwartz I have been for so many years. I’ve never had a problem jumping over chasms or climbing to the tops of really high rocks, but at Arches I felt a little nervous a few times. Don’t think I didn’t climb to every top, go through every cave hole, etc. I did. I was not going to let my new conscience dictate my actions. But I was a bit more wary, I did take it a bit easier on myself (even though I still managed to twist my right ankle 3 times, curse weak ankles), but I still had a blast climbing up random places, going through small holes, and just being on top of the world looking at the views below. I’m glad that Amy was blazing the way and I’m glad Nathan was there too to put the added pressure on me to follow Amy’s wild paths. 

After we ate lunch at Sand Dune Arch, we decided not to repeat the night before and headed out to Horsethief and claimed a spot. It was perfect timing for finding our camp spot and driving to Canyonlands since it was now the hottest part of the day. And it was freaking hot. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to dry heat. I don’t like it. I feel like a turkey roasting in an oven, only I never get doused with any basting juices ever. There was a breeze which was wonderful, and if we had a lake to jump into it would’ve been perfect.

If you ever head to Canyonlands, you MUST see the Mesa Arch. There’s really no excuse for you not to. The hike is 1 mile roundtrip, super easy, but the arch is sick and the view is incredible. We climbed on top of the arch and hung out there until we realized we were ruining people’s pictures. It's a tiny arch with one side being perfectly safe while the other side is a ridiculous straight drop down to your death. Wicked awesome. We then went and saw the Salt Dome and some other outlooks, and then went to finish the day with a hike to the final Grand Overlook. It was unbelievable. You could see for forever and the structures just hanging out in the middle of nowhere were crazy. Amy gave me a heart-attack because we started climbing onto this one rock and as we got to the top, I saw Amy teetering on the edge and fall off. I didn’t hear her scream so I thought she was just falling forever and hadn’t died yet. That sweet Amy of mine luckily faked the whole thing. Nathan then tried to push me off a rock and that was it for my nerves for the day. 

As we were heading back to camp it was still light out and it was only 8 pm. All I wanted, more than anything in the entire world at that point in time, was an ice-cold slushie. I got vetoed and we went back to camp, slushieless. We set up camp, ate, and basically just chilled for the rest of the night. Amy got her reading and conversation desires just as she had hoped and I got the amazing star-gazing I had been longing for. The stars are honestly so unbelievable out there. There were no lights and you could see the Milky Way as clear as the moon. It was beautiful. 

Arches and Canyonlands were bomb. The views and rock formations were unique and unexplainable, the animal life was friendly, and I now can identify yucca. The dry heat is honestly not my favorite. I am no fan of the desert. Dry, heat, and dirt/sand without moisture gets old after a while. Besides that, it was way fun. We hiked over 10 miles in 1 day, and we got to boulder over a ton of rocks. All in all, a successful adventure that will last me another 10 years before I have to revisit again.

Peace and Blessings

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count, it's the life in your years. ~Abraham Lincoln

SLC & Provo, UT :: Denver, CO

Every person should have at least one friend who is game for anything and everything. I fortunately have Stephen. He flew up from Atlanta to Provo for a couple days to hang out with me, go to an Iron and Wine concert in SLC, and then roadtrip to Denver to see our absolute favorite band, Dispatch.

Sadly, I had to work during the days Stephen was here so, as any good host should, I sent him a paragraph long text naming every cool and accessible activity or place to eat in a 10 mile radius in Provo. Luckily, Provo is pretty compact so getting to places via walking isn’t a matter of life or death. That darling Stevo actually did almost every item on the list I sent him which included hiking the Y, hiking up Rock Canyon, eating at J Dawgs, etc. 

At nights, however, I was able to show Stephen all that Salt Lake and Provo had to offer a young lad. We did the customary tour of Temple Square (where we passed Elder L. Tom Perry in the crosswalk and he mumbled something to us which neither of us understood as I smiled a big fatty grin).  We then went and ate at One World Café which was super delish and has such a cool concept about feeding people who are having hard times. For dessert we headed to The Gateway Mall where Stephen got Bear Country cookies and half a cup of coffee (he got the last of the pot) and killed some time while we waited for the Redwood Drive-in Theatre time. As is tradition whenever I drive, we got a little lost and ended up in a Latin neighborhood. Luckily, blessed Dougie was able to direct us to the right location. Back in Provo, I took Stephen to experience his first ever pie-shake from Sammy’s. *Many thanks to Devin, Rob, Taylor, and Sterling for housing Stephen, they were honestly so nice and welcoming, especially me asking last minute.* 

Finally, Friday night, the night we would see Sam Beam, arrived and we were stoked. There was a mishap. A major mishap, and it was 100% my fault. I had hidden the Iron and Wine tickets in too good of a hiding place. After turning the house upside down, inside out, we couldn’t find the tickets anywhere. I wasn’t excessively worried because there was the chance we could still call the venue and ask them if we could get our tickets will-call. False. Because SLC clubs and venues suck we had to re-buy our tickets, which I did because time was a-wasting and we hadn’t even left for Salt Lake yet. 

We headed up to Salt Lake and found In the Venue to go purchase our tickets. The original game plan was to buy our tickets early, go eat at Moochie’s, and then come back for the concert. However, as I've mentioned before, SLC sucks and once we bought our tickets we were locked inside the venue.

Finally the opening band came on stage. They’re called The Head and the Heart, and they are bomb! They’re a band from Seattle and they were one of the better opening acts I’ve seen in a while. The lead singer had a sick Sam Beam beard, the lead guitar/vocals guy was short and presh, and then there was the only girl in the band. Through the first 2-3 songs she would turn her back to the audience and go hang out with the tight drummer (he used a maraca as one of his drum sticks. Obsessed.), and when she had to come to the front to sing she had this awful, pained look on her face, as if she was trying to find a note, and it wasn’t the pained “I’m singing so intensely and emotionally right now” kind of face, but a legitimately concerned look. She kept counting beats and she made me really nervous for her and her band and them not-sucking, and then after each song she clapped as if she was relieved they made it through. After those first few songs though, she chilled out and started performing like a normal Indie-girl should. 

Iron and Wine was of course amazing and they played a lot of stuff from their new album which was sweet. My favorite part about Iron and Wine was their roadies. They refuse to wear a black t-shirt and Dickie's shorts, but were wearing super trendy and hip outfits. White button-ups, skinny jeans, cardigan, and all. They were super cute. Sam was incredible, as was expected, and there were a few times in the night when my vision blurred with the melodies he and his crew were throwing down. 

The next morning we had to run a few errands before we could leave on our roadtrip to Denver for Dispatch. After we picked up our Bundabergs, car snacks, and some Starbucks treats, Stephen put on some 80’s jams and we took off to Colorado! It was a pretty nice drive until we hit Colorado. Then it turned into an unbelievable scenic journey. Colorado is beautiful. Absolutely one of the best scenic drives I’ve ever done. The rocks are bright Georgia clay red, but the trees on some of the mountains aren’t close together so you can see this bright red coming through the bright green trees and it was so trippy! Everything was just beautiful and I almost ditched Stephen and Gizmo a couple times to jump into the Colorado River. Next time I visit, rafting will most definitely be involved. Hands down. 

We met up with some of Stephen’s camp buddies at his buddy's apartment complex, which was maybe specially geared towards those of an elderly nature. We went out to dinner, and then headed off to Red Rocks (the concert venue). Oh. Hot. Slam. Any concert venue that you literally have to hike up to immediately gets 5 gold stars from me. And then add putting the concert stage surrounded by 3 sides of enormous huge, red rocks. Done deal,  I’m sold. Words cannot describe how incredible Red Rocks was. I could go on for hours about the actual concert. But it’s Dispatch, the ultimate band, so I will leave it at that. They were absolutely bomb. Everything you could ever hope for or dream of a Dispatch concert being. They played all of the favorites, new stuff, some jamming, and then they left the stage and hopped up on top of the roofs of some buildings right next to our seats, so I could literally hold a conversation (minus all the other fans and noise) with Chad. NBD. They did 2 encores and the weather was perfect, the sky was incredible, the rocks looked so ballin’. Absolutely perfect. And I got to share this experience with one of my all-time favorite people, Stevo. I couldn’t imagine going to see Dispatch with anyone else.

The drive back to Provo from Denver was just Giz and I and it was the perfect roadtrip; the reason I bought Giz. We had a blast. I rolled down all the windows, sunroof all the way back, tucked my shirt into my bra and hiked up my shorts (to tan and boy did I get a sweet tan), and blasted Bob Dylan all the way out of Colorado. It was so peaceful and so joyful just to be with Giz and drive through majestic scenery. I loved every minute of it.

2 concerts :: 2 cities :: 2 days. Livin’ the life. 

Peace and Blessings

There is more to life than increasing its speed. ~Mohandas K. Gandhi

Portland, Oregon

My sweetest mija of all, Olivia, and I had planned to go to Hawaii for Memorial Day Weekend, but thanks to one flight canceling and our flight being delayed, we were stranded in SLC. That wasn’t gonna fly with Olivia and most def not gonna fly with me. I had one requirement: anywhere other than Utahrd. And my wish was granted. So, Liv and I made the decision to pack up our stuff and roadtrip to Portland, OR to visit the Gallegos clan.

I didn’t realize how far away Portland was from Provo, but it’s sort of a long drive. 12 hours I believe. We managed to make it to the Gallegos’ home in one piece. As I walked into their home, my immediate thoughts were these: Did Ash come and decorate this home? Ash needs to live in Portland. We were greeted by Mama Gallegos, cooking chorizo for breakfast. Half-awake Sam came down and barely greeted us, mainly because it was 5 a.m. Papa, in Dallas Cowboy’s attire, gave us big hugs and the “papa” comments from Olivia began spewing forth like vomit. Mary was disgusted to say the least.

After a good sleep, we went and hung out at the old Gallegos’ home, which was also super cute. It was so strange driving around town. The streets were small, there were people walking on them, there were little stores here and there, it was as if we were in a real live town! The weirdest part was that it was so quiet. You could hear the wind. The hustle and bustle life just doesn’t cut it for Oregonians. 

We dragged Sammy along for the ride to Corvallis where Olivia's aunt lives and stopped at what is now my second all-time favorite fast-food joint (1st will always be Chick-fil-A.) : Burgerville. Misleading in a way, because yes they sell burgers and yes they are fast food,but they are fast food Oregon-style. They are organic and earth-friendly, they sold asparagus straws, used real strawberries (and I don’t mean real strawberries as in the kind that come in a vat of strawberry juice, but actual ones you pluck from a plant) in their milkshakes, real Tillamook cheese, half of their menu was vegetarian, and best of all was their itemized and calorized receipt. Yes, their receipt broke down your caloric intake for each item and told you how much carbs, iron, etc. I am obsessed and if I had time, I would fight for a franchise here in Utahrd and def Georgia. They are GOLD. Way to recycle and reduce water usage, Burgerville, kudos.

After devouring our Burgerville delights, we reached an absolutely gorgeous plantation-style home (basically) which happened to be Olivia’s aunt’s home. It was gorgeous. They had a chicken house, acres of land, a trampoline, and a magical creek that ran along their property. The best part is that it is their dream home which they designed and built. Life really can’t get better than having your own fresh eggs and home stage.

 
The next day we adventured to Portland. When we first started out of the house I was confused as to where we were going when we passed the car and Olivia said to Max (the tracks in Oregon) and I was still confused because the closest rail-tracks to my home in Georgia is a 30 minute drive, not a 4 minute walk. Thank you Oregon for building your public transportation close to people’s actual homes. Max was a fun adventure in itself. I particularly enjoyed the several hundred signs on Max talking about how people should not try and outsmart, out run, etc. Max or they will die. Maybe Oregonians like to live life a little on the edge…of the tracks.

And then there was Portlandia. The famed city which Olivia had talked so much about. I really do enjoy going to different cities because they each have their own feel and style, and this was especially so with Portland. For a major city it was on the smaller side, but the oddest part was that it was relatively calm and quiet for a city. If you’ve ever been to NYC or ATL, they are 24/7 hustle and bustle, lights and loud. Portland was peaceful and pleasant. Most cities aren't relaxing. I felt like I could walk on the streets without having to watch my surroundings, which was nice. 

We headed to the Portland Saturday Market, but before we got there we were distracted by a little white booth that asked the question, “Do you want to know if you’re going to Heaven?” I and my immoral spirit have been concerned over this question and my curious self wanted to know the honest answer. I walked up to this cute elderly couple and asked if I could take their questionnaire to find out if I would be worthy to get to Heaven. The first question was, “Do you believe you’re going to Heaven?” and I answered “Yes.” They were both delighted that I got the first question right (I wonder if a lot of people get that one wrong…). The final question was multiple choice, “Why do you think you’re going to Heaven?” Well, I was nervous, they all seemed like such good answers and I was afraid I was really going to screw up. Luckily, the kind elderly lady gave me a hint since I got the first question right, “It’s ‘Other’ you have to fill in the blank.” Crap. Now I was really nervous about getting it wrong. How bad would that look if I couldn’t get into Heaven because my test-taking skills were sub-par? I thought for a couple minutes, and then wrote down “The Atonement.” The couple looked at my answer and erupted in joy and congratulated me and shook my hand and said, “Yes! Only Jesus can get you to Heaven! All you need is to believe in Him and you’re saved!” =] Yeah, that’s right. This girl here is going straight to Heaven. My fears have been put to rest once and for all. That was the highlight of my Portlandia adventure, I could’ve literally died right then and there and been happy. Wanna know why?? Because I’m going to Heaven.

Once I had been saved, we entered the Portland Saturday Market. If you ever get a chance to be in Portland on a Saturday, you MUST go to the Market. It had anything and everything. Tons of tie-dye shops, hemp (they had hemp dog leashes! I almost bought one for Maxie and Princess, but decided to make my own for them), food, jewelry, artwork, boxers, etc. It was so much fun. We eventually settled on buying this way sweet glass hanging vase for Cici from this wicked cool lady who blows glass with her husband. 

We unfortunately ran out of time in Portland, so we didn’t get to try Voodoo Doughnut or any other hip spots because we had to see our precious Caroline sing in her Music in May concert back at home. After the musical festivities, we headed back to the Gallegos’ for some authentic Mexican food and family lovin’. (Family lovin’ translates into a hierarchical fight between the four Gallegos’ children and into counting the number of times Olivia said “papa”).    

We left beautiful Oregon, but this time we got to leave it in the day-time so we really got to enjoy the spectacular beauty of it all. Portland is like Georgia in greenery, except they are different types of trees. It was beautiful and reminded me of all the green at home. The major difference is that there are no mountains in Georgia, and Portland just had rolling mountains of beautiful trees and the scenery was gorgeous. Honestly beautiful. Loved loved loved it. A little bit chilly for my taste, but I am a warm-weather girl and we were at the exact opposite side of the country from Georgia. 

I loved Portland. I love that the people are sustainable, the country is green, that Burgerville is a strong presence, the people are eclectic, and the Gallegos’ live there.

Peace and Blessings

Live passionately, even if it kills you, because something is going to kill you anyway. ~Webb Chiles

Lake Powell, Utah

Hysteric is the word I would use to describe the series of unfortunate, yet surprisingly fortunate, events which occurred this past weekend as a simple trip to Lake Powell turned into the most bizarre, inexplicable trip I have ever experienced.

The trip was meant to commence at 3:30, however, a seemingly simple task (such as printing off directions from a FB event link) turned into an hour long project. What was a bit more concerning, and would turn into the major problem, was that the Google Map Phil was trying to decipher was sketchy to say the least. Directions were fine until they led to an undisclosed dirt road that apparently would lead to the campsite by the lake. Nikki and I, rearing to go, decided Phil had used enough time and made the decision that we would figure it out when the time came. 

And here is where the trip turned hysterical. Thanks to Google Maps' awful directions and Phil's procrastinating to get directions until after our original departure time, the team found ourselves driving for quite a while on Hwy 95 with no distinct gravel road in sight. We turned around a few times and went to the one gravel road we could find. This "gravel" road turned into a treacherous rocky terrain. If you've never seen a VW Bug before, you should understand one thing: it is not an off-roading vehicle. After going maybe a mile and a half in, Gizmo came against a great foe of uneven rocky terrain. I was too unskilled to save Giz from his underbelly being punctured as we attempted to cross over it. As I backed him up to try a different way, Phil notified me that poor Gizzy was leaking. So, I parked Giz and Phil checked underneath him and made the call that it was not water leaking out. There we were, lost, literally in the middle of nowhere, with a leaking Gizmo. Fortunately, I had packed a flashlight which we used as we let Gizmo to search for this supposed campsite. 

The weather was perfect. It was nice and cool, not too breezy, there was a huge, bright full moon which illuminated a lot of the landscape, and the actual hike was easy. After our hour and a half unsuccessful effort to hike to safety, we started our trek back to Gizmo. Phil pulled through with a tent, colored muffins, and Blackjack which got us through the night.  

The night before I had made the team decision to not think about what we were going to do the next day, but now it was the next day and the time had arrived to figure out what on earth we were going to do. We figured being in the middle of nowhere was useless and that we needed to at least reach some form of civilization. So, we packed up camp and carefully drove Gizmo back toward the direction of a Hite road we had tried the night before. As we tenderly traveled down 95, maybe about 5 miles down (literally on the other side of the rock we camped at) we passed a brown sign which read "Farley's Canyon and Lake Powell 3," along with a gravel, dirt road.... I turned Giz around and we attempted another off-roading excursion on this gravel road towards Lake Powell. This time, however, we saw Devin's car on a far-off hillside, on the other side of another rock. We pulled up to a porta potty station and found a yellow note from our friends welcoming us to the campsite. The team rejoiced! We then began looking for the road to sanctuary.

Once again, it seemed as if we were on the homestretch. We could see the cars, we had a sign, but the road managed to elude us. After honking for a couple minutes, to no avail, the team gathered water for another hike. We hiked straight up the middle rock to the top and saw that the only way to the campsite was to off-road up the rocky hill. So, onward we went, down the hill and up another one until we finally reached out intended destination.

We spent the rest of the day tubing, cliff jumping (not diving...), and relaxing in good company and comfort. The next morning we broke camp and went to visit Gizmo. Giz's car mechanics, Rob and Devin (with Dev's flashlight headband) figured out that Giz was not leaking oil, but antifreeze from a crack in the radiator. A MUCH better situation than a punctured oil pan. 

Gizmo luckily made it to the Hite Ranger Station in one piece. One would think that a Ranger Station would have some sort of cellular service in case of emergencies that occur in the middle of the desert. This was not the case with the Hite Ranger Station. After a failed cell service search at mile marker 51, Jennifer (volunteer ranger) kindly let me use the ranger phone to call my insurance company.

Rob and I went back to our troupe and Rob decided to stay with me (an absolute gem)  and wait for the tow. Our friends bon voyaged and Rob and I began our adventure of killing 3 1/2 hours. Which actually turned out to be quite fun. Eventually, Tim the tow trucker, white beard, gruffy, burnt arms and all, hooks Gizzy up and lifts him onto the flatbed while Rob and I hopped into the luxurious backseat of the tow truck. It was a sweet deal. Super comfy, tons of room and we didn't have to awkwardly sit up front with Tim. And I got to save gas money.

The first part of the ride was nice; I dozed off into a deep sleep. The next thing I remembered was Rob waking me up and then looking through the back window to see Gizmo crash into an electrical box on the side of the road. The chain that had been holding Gizmo onto the flatbed of the tow truck was in the middle of the highway and Gizmo was 3-4 feet off the flatbed, crashed into an electrical box. Was I shocked? Yes. Was I surprised? Not really. Why not add this onto the rest of the past 3 days of my Powell adventure? The damages were anything but slight. *Gizmo has been claimed as 'totaled' with damages amounting to $9,000. R.I.P. Gizmo Chocolate Bear Schwartz* Luckily, Tim's boss said he would cover all the costs of damage on Gizmo. ROCK SOLID! Blessing in disguise? Methinks yes.

This trip was hysterical in the fact that the actual events of those 3 days should be turned into one of those ridiculous, unrealistic, unlucky road trip comedies. Most people go boating at Lake Powell, I’ve learned that my life refuses to fashion itself after the activities of most people. Hurrah for the middle of nowhere.

Peace and Blessings