Escalante 2006 - A Dream and the Realities - Part NIne

Lord, this is taking longer than I imagined.

Day 5
Wednesday July 26 6:00pm

I don't remember how or from whom we first learned that the power was out to the entire town, but oh boy did it illicit a wild range of responses. I believe we were in the parking lot of the Prospector Inn, recently returned from our glorious dip at Upper Calf Creek Falls happy and rejuvenated. Upon hearing the news I immediatelt was struck senseless by the hilarious irony, having opted for a night in an air conditioned motel room over another night of camping, this time in the cool forest of Dixie NF. TClog on the other hand, now there was not an ounce of him that found humor in the irony. Nope. He returned to a deep dark place, though to his credit, not for long. Apparently the dam that creates Lake Powell had experienced some significant failure (though subsequent searches upon returning told me nothing) and the whole region was without power. Wow. I've experienced town-wide power outages, but a whole region? And with us so recently returned, hot and tired from the wild? You couldn't write that script.

So we took a quick drive around to see if anywhere was open for dinner, to which we learned the answer was no. Hmmmm....what could we do? We decided to walk down the street to see if anything was open. Along the way we ran into a college professor who had graduated from ISU (TClog was representin' via t-shirt) who was in town with some students doing some survey work of some sort. We joked about our common predicament and left them to fend for themselves having neither imparted nor received any useful information. We continjued down the street and eventually arrived at a gas station with a pretty well stocked convenience store.

What was purchased:
2 six packs of beer, one Pale Ale, one Ale
A bag of barbeque chips (mine)
Donuts, a Mt. Dew and some beef jerky (Tclog)
Twizzler and ? (Dan)

Remember, we had a SHITLOAD of camping food left, having packed enough for Hannibal and his elephants. But no, beer was not enough, we opted for crap instead. I think Dan and I were reasonably content as we were the proponents of beer and could happily while away the hours until bedtime getting silly. TCLog was a worry for me as all his illusions were being shattered and he didn't want to drink beer. We grabbed some ice on our convenience excursion and hiked back to the Prospector where we set up for a long evening's journey into night.

The motel room's sink filled with ice and beer, three plastic patio chairs set out on the balcony, and a bag of crap to eat, we settled in. We still needed to decide exactly what our itinerary was for getting home. TClog was adamant in his own way about not getting home before Saturday noon, and Dan and I were trying to figure out how that could happen. Problem is, there's not much attraction in Nebraska, and so our Denver plans needed to be expanded. Basically, we decided to drive to Denver the next day, with stops in Dixie and to get the AC fixed. The following day we would hang out in Denver until late evening and drive all night to CF. But that was tomorrow.

For now we sat. The east side of the Prospector Inn was bustling. In addition to us there were a couple of other groups, most notably a family of French adventure racers, or so they seemed, with their five kayaks strapped to the top of their minivan. They were camped out below us on the ground floor, enjoying whatever snacks they had managed to rustle up, and keeping to themselves. The neighboracross the parking lot came out and stared over at us from behind his dark screen while his cats roamed the yard, making me wonder if that was his usual nightly activity, or did the power outage make this unique.

As Dan and I drank our way to happiness all three of our spirits seemed pretty good. I was pretty certain that power wasn't coming on and was ok with that, though I may have been alone in that sentiment. We got started into reciting the entire script of Blazing Saddles, though got destracted at the quicksand scene. Otherwise, we just watched the sun's last rays leave the mountains in the distance, our headlamps at the ready for trips into our pitch dark room to pee. It was then that a quite unexpected highlight of the trip occurred.

I hadn't noticed, but the French family had retired at some point, leaving us more or less alone. But we continued carrying on unabated, oblivious to their absence, when we noticed the young son of the family scamper out of his room dressed only in some pale blue briefs. He appeared to be surprised to find us watching over him and abruptly got into the front passenger seat of their minivan, where he remained, appearing to read. It was at this point that I made a comment involving the character Little Lord Fauntleroy, a name that I knew in a vague sense had to do with a prissy foppish child of aristocracy. Dan was tickled by this image, though he seemed to have really only a vague sense of the analogy as well. Regardless, a nickname was born, and many muffled guffaws ensued.

It may have been LLF's intention to go to the car to read. The car of course had light, while the rooms did not. But it appeared that he was hiding from us, hoping beyond hope that we would retire and allow him to return to his room with his last shred of dignity. It was not to be however, as we remained firmly planted on that balcony longer than his will held out. In he scampered, to a trailing chorus of guffaws and the night was complete. We were actually not too obnoxious or mean at all. The guffaws WERE muffled.

About that time a family from Nevada pulled up in their SUV. The father was a well manicured fellow with highlighted hair, a bit foppish himself (though nice enough). His wife was no slouch, and they were travelling with two young children and one of their mothers (not the children's mother). They were a bit frenzied, hoping that we could direct them to food. Alas, the only information we had was about the gas station, but it was enough and the father and son hopped back into the SUV and were off. Strangely, even though the gas station was only a few blocks away, they were gone for awhile, and when they returned it was completely dark. Whatever they had, it included not quite enough flashlights for the entire family's satisfaction, so off the father went again, returning once more, whereupon they retired to their rooms to feast on whatever provisions the gas station had offered up.

We sat. The stars were coming out. A car alarm went off. And went off some more. And still. I decided to investigate. I found a lightly dressed portly fellow struggling to silence his car's alarm. Through no real expertise I managed to get it to stop and he remarked that it was a rental. Maybe. Back to the quiet and the stars. By now we were winding up our beers and it seemed only natural to lay in the parking lot and look at the stars. They were almost as good as those we saw in Coyote Gulch since every light within miles was out. Only cars pulling into the parking lot disrupted our viewing, and eventually we returned to our perch, finished our beers and then said good night.

Any remnants of cool that might have been present after running the AC in the afternoon were long gone, and without any fans we were in for a long night, and that means TClog was miserable. He and Dan each had a bed and I was laying on the floor at their feet on their piled Thermarests. Pretty comfortable actually. TClog needed to be cooled down, so I grabbed his top sheet, made my way into the bathroom and soaked it in the shower (thank goodness water runs mostly via gravity). Both he and Dan were a bit skeptical of this approach, but once covered, TClog gave proof to its effectiveness. He was content, and that was all I required. From then on it was sleepy time and whether there was any snoring I never heard.

The adventure continues soon....including the triumphant return of irony and THE SMACKDOWN!