On the way to the hotel in Torre, we saw the entire town. Except Jack; he blinked. Dad saw a police car on the side of the road, and so he pulled over to ask for directions. Unfortunately, the policeman was a literal dummy. I want to know who has the time and resources and willpower to set that up. It's probably the same guy who must have intentionally brought white paint and driven out to the county border to change WAYNE COUNTY to an almost convincing DWAYNE COUNTY. Five dollars his name is Dwayne. An additional five dollars that we would be friends.
We dined at the restaurant right across the parking lot from our room that claimed no affiliation with or connection to our hotel, though it was literally connected. A high school dude, overheard to be named Brock, was our waiter and a true gem. Very pleasant and built like a football player, but unable to play since his school is so very small, this guy was the only person I've ever met who could pull off the one little braid in the back that my cousin used to call "the jedi braid." Seriously, I was so impressed. When we awoke in the morning in our room with an excellent view of rocks and cows, we ate again at the separate but not restaurant. Waiter boy was either there again or had never left. We had very hearty breakfasts and then started to pack up the car.
Mom sent Joely and I to get ice. We scoffed at the fact that we, two fully capable women, were sent to do what was clearly a one man job. Little did we know what danger lurked right outside the door. Our room opened up to the parking lot, and the ice machine rumbled just a few doors down. Joely boldly grabbed the bucket and headed to the ice. I, on the other hand, decided to hop from the sidewalk to the little concrete car parking marker thing (you know exactly what I'm talking about) and hop from parking thing to parking thing. Alas, I missed the first parking thing and totally wiped out. Sitting on the ground in the parking lot because I was laughing to hard to get up, I heard Brock peek out the restaurant door and holler at us to be careful. Here is where, in the style of old school Avril Lavigne, I write a song entitled "w8r boi."
Once recovered and still laughing, we rolled down the road to Capital Reef National Park. Much to the disappointment of Jack, we watched an 18 minute video about the history of the park. Dad told us to give "the signal" if we wanted to leave the video early, but though Jack gave every signal he could think of from the first moment the video started, we watched all 18 minutes. As you can imagine, I found it utterly fascinating, as I do most things in life.
We decided to do a longer hike, but Jack and Dad were only able to join us at the beginning, since Jack still wasn't feeling 100%. It was very hot with almost no shade. Compared to the other parks, it was eerily empty. We passed only 2 people in two hours. There were tons of rocks to climb on, and I'm sure it would have been a favorite had the whole family been able to enjoy it. Interesting facts about Chimney Rock Trail: you only see Chimney Rock for the first 20ish minutes and you can see Chimney Rock even better from the road. Still, we had a nice hike and saw many, many lovely rocks before leaving the park.
Now, we are in Moab. I know all kinds of things about Moab after our lights and sounds boat tour, but I figure if you wanted to know them, you'd probably use Wikipedia, you technology wizards, you. Really, my main goal is to keep my brother away from the women, because besides Ruth, who is about as exceptional as any exception ever has been, my time studying the Bible suggests that Moabitesses lead God's chosen ones astray, and we can't have that.
Our tour was just swell. Ranked in the top 100 tours in the good ole U.S.ofA., this tour featured dutch oven cooked supper and then a boat tour lead by Preston, a retired man who reminded us many times that his jokes "don't get better; they only get worse." A personal favorite was the narrative that "our cook uses a special method to cook the baked beans, putting only 239 beans in each pot. You know why? Because one more would make it too farty." He, like the other staff, wore a cowboy hat and boots, and said "darn good" at every possible opportunity.
I had never experienced a light show. Now, this wasn't a laser light show. Preston did, however, sport a laser pointer, such as one may use in a classroom. For the first part of the tour, Preston talked about the area, the sights to sees, the impressive line up of movies and commercials filmed in the town, and pointed out shapes on the canyon walls with the laser pointer. It was thoroughly enjoyable.
For the more official part of the program, a truck on the highway along the river pointed a light at the canyon walls as it moved with us. We listened to a contradictory and slightly confusing history of the area as we, unrelatedly, studied the canyon walls. Occasionally, we were a bit lost. For example, on the topic of mountain men, with no explanation, the recording claimed "And the wearing of one's own hair came only at the cost of eternal vigilance." Please let me know if you've decoded this cryptic message.
My favorite part was by far the stars. The first time they turned off all of the lights to allow us to look at the heavens, the glaring light of a construction zone stared us all straight in the corneas. As we lifted our hands to block the beam of straight sunpower, the construction people waved back at us. I like them.
Now it is late. Blogging has kept me up for what I'm sure is not the last time.
Fondly,
Jenna
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