Wandering Westward and Upward

The sun was setting when we got to camp. So I was very grateful for the year on the road and knowing how to set up, even in the dark. Overlooking the lake and on the mountain above the marina, we could hear people partying all around the Flaming Gorge near Dutch John, Utah. You could make assumptions about the age groups by the music they were playing and the number of woohoos per minute.

Flo is still comfy. I know this by how long I wanted to sleep in. She caught a lot of eyes too. Between people driving by slowly, stopping to take pictures and ask we questions, she loves the attention. And I am always so proud to say she’s original 1947.

We received an email a few weeks ago from Cedar Springs Campground telling us that the campground will be without water during our stay. Consciously thinking of water and how it will be used, we showed up with 4 gallons for a 2-night stay. One gallon for the shower bag (we use it to rinse dishes and wash our hair), 2.5 gallons for drinking and .5 for general cleaning and spillage (I’m a clutz). Fear of running out, I was collecting water as it rained. It was a downpour for 30 minutes. And in typical Southwest fashion, the ground was dry shortly that afternoon.

Between the hammock and Flo, I was able to log 6 hours of nap time while Ray fished.

Following the creative brief in a photography class Ray is taking inspired him to recreate an image by Ansel Adams. It wasn’t so much a comparative exercise with regards to the final image, but an exercise in noticing, seeing and reflection before taking the photo.

Driving up along the Tetons to Yellowstone was beautiful. Though we didn’t see a bear, we did see a lot of bison and a moose. While Ray and I stayed in Colter Bay, my mom, sister and her family stayed at Flagg Ranch. Our site was quiet and tree-filled while theirs was an open canopy, both beautiful. It was so great to see them. Heidi growing up fast and Gunner anxious to see a bear.

Ray made his first knife and gave it to mom then took her fishing. We walked hand-in-hand at the Grand Prismatic Spring.

Being with my mom is like no other feeling in the world. It’s Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs all mixed into one. She’s so fun to be around. While she’s no longer practicing massage therapy, she’s still a healer, an incredible story teller, and she’s so easy going that you feel good just being around her.

Coming home, I landed a place to camp at the confluence of the Greys, salts and Snake rivers. But the wind was too much to fish. We spent the following morning practicing our casting on a baseball field with Jim Welch in Afton, Wyoming as part of the Library’s weeklong program on Flyfishing.

It was a long, steep and windy drive to the Iron Mine campground in the Ashley National Forest in Utah. Beautiful, but as soon as we found our site, we realized it was too late to turn back. The sun met the top of the mountain and we were in a deep canyon. Dusty, poor bathrooms, and surrounded by loud people who didn’t know how to properly hang hammocks in trees (if only I could hand out citations) we left at the first break of dawn.

We debated between trying to find another site close to home for our last night or just going home. Given the dust levels on Flo and Wilma, it was time to get come and have a spa day for our final day.

Wilma and Flo at Colter Bay. We didn’t spend much time here, although it was a nice campground. There was too much exploring to do.