Canyonlands (mis)Adventure - Jeeping, Camping and Runaway Tents

In today's blog: General notes; trip report from Canyonlands and other recent adventures

Sorry (uh, Dad), it has been a while since we have updated. The kids don't change so fast anymore, so there isn't much to report unless we do something interesting. (One could argue I never do anything interesting, but fortunately I have children to blubber on about) Lily continues to increase her verbal repertoire. She is, as of late, vigorously defending her right to cry. The other morning we were driving to preschool and she was wailing up a storm for some indiscernible reason. Harry objected to this. Unfortunately, Harry does not always object in the most productive fashion, namely screaming "I don't want Lily to cry!" and doing a lot of crying of his own. Lily took offense. "Let me cry! I want to cry!" Finally, Harry got smart and decided to change tactics. He paused,composed himself, put on his most polite and patronizing tone, and said, "Lily, can you please turn off the crying?"

It's a good thing the drive to school is short.

With the good weather, we have been trying to get out and about with the kids. Last week we took a bike ride on the Jordan River Parkway, with a stop for dinner. All well and good until my front tire started going flat and spewing slime. I ended up waiting by the roadside while Chris powered back to the car. Bike ride number two (tonight) was cut short by torrential rain and impressive thunder and lightening. We did luck out and see the guy with the giant purple tricycle, streamers, and boom box playing techno before the rain set in.

This past weekend we took a much anticipated trip to Canyonlands National Park to camp along the backcountry White Rim Road. Chris had been getting Harry excited about the trip for weeks, until he would tell anyone that would listen that "We're going to go to Moab and rent a Jeep, and we're going to sleep in a sleeping bag in a tent on the dirt, and we're going to drive over big red rocks ON A DIRT ROAD!"

That was the plan. We picked up our 4WD rental early Saturday morning and set out exploring. The way down to the White Rim Road is via several narrow switchbacks along a cliff. This can be intimidating for the uninitiated, but we have done enough of this kind of driving to not be too nervous about it. The scariest part is the possibility of encountering another vehicle in a place where it is difficult to back up, with a 1000 foot dropoff just off the edge of the (crumbling) road. After this section the road follows the Green River for a while. Our reserved campsite was just off the road along this riverside stretch. I had been imagining a campground with some other sites, maybe a fire ring and picnic table. In reality, it was just a designated place where the park service allowed you to put your tent with a single pit toilet graciously provided nearby (which we shared with the only other campsite in the area). There were some rocks. No trees. No water, either, if you have to ask.

Looking at our campsite - uh, flat spot of dirt - sitting in the blazing hot sun, with no source of shade, we made the wise decision to put off setting up camp until evening, and set off to see what else was along the road. We ventured up a canyon and considered hiking, then realized that physical exertion was best left to evening as well. Lunch was a picnic on a ledge we found off the roadl. Around this time we realized we needed a little shade in our Jeep (the top of which was safely but uselessly stowed back in Moab) and Chris rigged up a canopy using an old blanket, Gorilla tape, and a steak knife.

By the time we made it back to our space on the dirt, it was almost dinnertime, so we set up the tent and let the kids run around inside while Chris made quesadillas on top of a rock, as it seemed weird to cook on the hood of the Jeep. It occurred to me that if we had done this in the middle of the day, using the campstove would not have been necessary - we could have just set out the black frying pan in the sun. Then we cleaned up - no need to worry about bears around here - and set off on our hike.

Arriving back just after sunset, we settled in and were about to start getting the kids into pajamas in the rapidly fading light, when a gust of wind rattled the tent. Chris turned to me and said, "Do you think I should secure the tent with the guy-wires so it doesn't blow down in the wind?" I paused, thinking about it. How severe could the wind really get? "Well....no, I think we'll be OK." It turns out that wind on a desert plain can get, um, quite severe indeed. Not a minute and a half later, Chris was showing the kids how their new special camping flashlight worked (it plays woodland animal sounds and casts silhouettes of different animals, Bat Signal style, on the walls, or if you prefer, the ceiling, which Harry will be more than happy to explain to you in detail if you have a couple hours to spare), when suddenly we were under the seemingly crushing weight of a tent doing its best to fly off for parts unknown. I don't remember much about this particular event, except that I was trying to see the kids and lift the tent wall up enough to keep them from being pinned down. I could kind of see Lily flattened in her bed and couldn't see Harry at all. When the gust let up a bit after, oh, five hours (OK OK maybe 30 seconds?), I managed to somehow heave up into a standing position and hold up the tent wall, sort of, while Chris (I think) ran outside to try to get the stakes back in.

After the initial shock was over, I found the circumstances to be quite amusing. Unfortunately, about the same time I decided this was all pretty funny, the kids decided that it was all pretty damn terrifying. Harry kept asking "Why did that happen? Why did the tent fall down? Why did the wind blow hard? Why? Why? Why? " while Lily just wailed despondently. Comforting them was a difficult task, as I was preoccupied with standing in the corner of the tent , desperately clutching the fabric and bracing against the wall, which was determined to push me down to the floor every time another gust hit. Lily's cried started to form into words: "I want to get out! I want out!", unwilling to accept my assertion that inside the tent was the safest place for her to be.

While Chris ran around outside, trying to get stakes and guy-wires into the ground, only to have them ripped out or broken repeatedly, I was running through exit strategies in my head. This wind appeared to be the leading edge of a thunderstorm, which meant sleeping in the topless Jeep was not a good option. Driving up the switchbacks in the dark, in a storm, was not an option at all. Going to the other group for help could have worked, if I wasn't the only thing keeping the tent from sailing off toward southeast Nevada, not to mention keeping the kids from running screaming into the night, only to fall into the river or to be an easy midnight snack for some lucky pack of coyotes.

Finally we decided to bring the truck around to serve as a windbreak, and then Chris had the idea to tie cam straps (good thing we had them, they were thrown in on a whim) to the vehicle - at this point we didn't trust the guy-wires not to break, and we weren't even sure the tent itself would hold up (it did, thank you LL Bean; I should really write them a letter). About this time the wind started to be less intense and I set about trying to get the kids in the proper mindset for sleep. Lily was lying on her little thermarest mat, sucking her thumb and crying hysterically every time the wind rattled the (now stable-ish) tent. I finally got her tucked in and offered a song. She removed her thumb long enough to whisper tremulously, "Twinkle Little Star?" and just stared at me with big liquid brown eyes while I sang that and several other songs, until at last she didn't seem to notice or care when the wind picked up. Harry just went and crawled into bed by himself and fell asleep while we were doing all this...a noteworthy event in and of itself.

At long last we were all safely tucked in and asleep. When we awoke in the morning, the cool desert air, the golden light playing on the rocks, and the peaceful silence that comes from being in the middle of nowhere belied the drama of the night before. Soon we were up making pancakes, and we were packed and back on the road by mid-morning.

We spent the afternoon exploring above Hidden Canyon, which I think was technically outside the park. Then we finally had to return to Moab, get the requisite treat (ice cream), move everything back to the family car, return the beloved (if not a very good shelter in a storm) Jeep and head for home.

Someday soon, we'll get unpacked.

I am just too darn tired to try to get the pictures into this post...blogger always has its own ideas about where the images go, and I don't have enough fight in me to tell it otherwise. I already have a photo album up on Facebook, and will post them to Shutterfly right now.

Namaste and Aloha,

carolyn