Truth IS Stranger Than Fiction

Leaving beautiful Escalante on Saturday morning, I thought about how absolutely blessed I was to have such an amazing boss. Not only did I have four days off to go pick up my new-used car, a 1990 Jeep Cherokee, but Kendall was aldo driving me to Hanksville where my friend Linda would pick me up and bring me to Grand Junction. From there it was a matter of getting a ride to Buena Vista or having someone from BV bring the Cherokee to me. All the pieces seemed to be falling into place. I'd finally have a four-wheel drive vehicle to drive all the absolutely amazing trails I keep hearing so much about.

With the kennel set up in the back of my Kendall's car, I loaded up Buena, my paintbrushes, and suitcases, we hit the road. The plan was to get to GJ, clean and paint (touch-up) the now-repaired-with-new-plugs-and-wires Godspeed so George could sell it for me. Easy peasy. On Sunday I'd be in BV to get the Cherokee. Then, on Monday and Tuesday I could spend delicious hours rambling a few dirt roads on my way back to Escalante. Maybe I'd even have time to hit the hot springs. For two days, the world was my oyster.

Buena was no trouble on the drive to Hanksville. She'd been listless this past week due to her false pregnancy, something that happens to female dogs 4 - 12 weeks after her last heat. Since she barely touched her dog food that morning, I knew stopping for a Buena-break wouldn't be an urgent matter...except in Torrey where she had enormous diarrhea and just outside Hanksville where she urgently whined at me from the back seat.

We arrived in Hanksville and met Linda at Stan's Burger Shack. Then we ordered some food and sat down outside.

Linda and I talked all the way to Junction. We discussed trails and trips. We talked about children. We acknowledged the recent changes in Cisco. We even talked about dinosaur tracks.

At one point when we were deep in conversation, I confided that I was the worst mother in the world. Soberly, I added, "Both my daughters said so."

"Um...no," said Linda. "I have been awarded worst mother. That title is already taken."

For a few moments we argued about who really held the title.

Then we laughed and laughed.

Pretty soon, Grand Junction came into view and traffic slowed. We got off the Interstate.

At Pete and Linda's house, I tied Buena outside. "It looks like she's lactating," I announced.

"Are you sure?" Linda asked.

I flipped Buena on her back and checked. "Yep. Every nipple."

"You might be having puppies!" She said it with glee.

I hoped so, too, but I wasn't ready for this. When did Buena get pregnant? How was it possible? When I saw all those boy dogs slinking around during herlast heat, I'd kept her inside.

One of Buena's four suitors from June

Linda showed me my room. I hadn't been there an hour when I got a call from Jim, the guy selling the Cherokee in BV.

"Hi, Pyra. It's Jim," he stated matter-of-factly. "I got some bad news on the Jeep. I can't get it started. It was running earlier this week, but I don't know ow what to do. All the mechanics in town are booked out a month or more."

While he talked about what he'd done and what he thought it could be, my mind raced. I didn't want to buy a broken vehicle. I didn't want to have to put more work into it just to get it running. Something told me to run. Away. Run away. Fast.

But to what?

The Godspeed? Parked across the street, George had added new sparkplugs, wires, and an ignition control module. He'd had it out running, and it seemed to be doing fine, but did I really want to risk driving it back to Escalante? Between here and Escalante were long stretches of nothingness. No services for 40 - 80 miles between various small towns. On top of it all, cell service was limited on the outskirts of Hanksville and Caineville. I'd have to take it up and over Boulder Mountain, which topped out around 9000-feet. And then, what if I lost the power steering going over Hogback Ridge? There'd be nowhere to pull off.

I went outside to check on Buena and find Linda. I needed to start verbalizing the plans forming in my head.

"It's the craziest thing," I began, "But I don't think I should sell my RV. In addition, I should probably stay in it tonight...in case Buena has puppies."

Linda agreed.

I told her about not getting the Cherokee and driving the RV back to Escalante.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I think so."

We went inside to cool off, and Linda showed me some of her collection of art, nick-nacks, and craftwork. It was a welcome respite from my heavy thinking.

When Pete called from his four-wheel adventure, he said he'd be home a little later than planned, so we determined to leave for dinner with George. Both George and Linda asked if Mexican food sounded good.

Yes, it did.

We ended up at Tequila's Mexican restaurant where we ate, told stories, laughed, and planned my next moves.

Near the end of the meal, the waiter stopped by to see if we needed anything else.

"Disculpe, senõr," I said. "Yo quiero pagar."

He nodded and smiled. Linda and George looked at me and continued talking over the chips and salsa.

Later, the waiter came to our table with to-go boxes and the check. As Linda and George both reached for the check, but the good senor lifted the black tablet above their outstretched hands and deposited it in my hand.

Linda and George looked at me.

"I'm getting it," I said definitively.

Linda turned to the waiter. "Is her Spanish really that good?"

He laughed and walked off. For myself, I felt proud to have my long hours in lessons come in useful.

Later, I lay in the hot, hot, hot RV, trying for sleep. The temps had been in the upper-90s, so the RV interior was around 100. But, as night set in, a cool breeze blew in through the windows.

I laid my hand on Buena's abdomen. It may have been puppies moving around, or it could have been indigestion from the leftover Mexican food.

She panted and tried to get comfortable.

Was she in labor or did she feel hot inside the RV?

My mind wandered as I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, after running a few big-city errands, I took off for Utah in the Godspeed. Pete and Linda said they would follow me out to the state line to make sure the RV drove okay up that big hill near Mack.

At Rabbit Valley, we beeped goodbye and waved.

Now solo...and on the way back to work...I determined to make the most of the return trip by...

...stopping at some petroglyphs at Sego Canyon to evade the intense late-afternoon sun...

...and by pushing on toward Hanksville to camp at a quiet place...

...and by stopping to play in a river...

...and by stopping at the Capitol Reef orchards to harvest peaches...

...and by stopping to see my friend Adus in Torrey, and eating Indian food in Bicknell, and climbing up and over Boulder Mountain in a rain storm...

...and then--quite suddenly--I found myself back in Escalante and at work: answering phones, taking reservations, stocking the gift shop, making coffee, greeting guests, pulling weeds, organizing room keys, and on and on and on.

It's good to be back!