I was wrong about the sandstorms – the inside of my tent was as yellow as the beach when I got back yesterday evening, and the sand continued to quantum tunnel its way through the canvas all night.
So far I’ve had kind invitations to meet up with people in California, Nevada, Oklahoma, Maryland, Manitoba and, of course, Sedona. Much as I’d love to ride off into the sunset, I know I can’t keep on running away from my problems forever, so I’m afraid I’m not going to make it to most of those places. Soon I need to turn around and start heading back to Louisiana, and then, er, somewhere else.
But I’m so close to Bryce and Zion national parks that it would be silly to miss them, even though I’m getting canyon overload. Today, though, I’ve been hanging around in Page, Arizona, doing some shopping, washing the car, doing some laundry, etc. And tonight I’m in a motel again, with a shower and a bed that doesn’t spray sand all over you in the night. I’ve just washed half of Utah down the plughole and feel almost human again.
This morning I did some sunbathing and thinking on the shore of Lake Powell, near to the Glen Canyon dam. I threw a rock into the water for each of the people I love (it’s a tradition). The rim of Glen Canyon is just as precipitous as any that I’ve stepped out onto, and the bottom is something like 500 feet below. But this canyon is filled to the brim with Lake Powell, so the rocks will have taken a long, long time to sink, giving me a sweet opportunity to fill my thoughts with each of you in turn.
Today’s sensations: Feeling very, very grimy. My heart sinking with the rocks. Feeling clean again.