Kaulbach's Modern World

Ok, so we checked with NP at Fruita before we took off. They never say this but the rangers gave us a 100% assurance of no rain. The absolutely perfect day for slot canyons, novice style.  Consulting three maps, notes of a reliable biology teacher and tour guides, we pulled off onto Hole in The Rock Road and proceeded to navigate the 26.1 miles of straight dirt road to nowhere. Every write up assures that this is a rough paved road. By rough, they mean, no pavement. Our rental Kia jostled along without complaining. I eyed the 6 gallon reserve of water in the back seat and crossed my fingers as we passed a broken down jeep with a flat. We waved enthusiastically when a Ford pickup flew by with a tailgate of young bucks. It even lightened the mood when the road hump was hit dead on and the boys bounced up and into each other with great whoops and yeehaa. Devout Mormons built this road and it intrigued me from the moment I read its name. It does dump into a river but let's faced it, it...

Somewhere,enroute to Moab, I began to breathe easier. not only because the air is purportedly clearer but because the open sky, the long ribbon of highway gave me the perspective that, once again, my collected problems were small. The world is a big place and zipping 80 mph through Spanish Forks to Price, Utah helped remind me of this. 8 days of camping was a gift I could give my family. I worked for a week in Salt Lake City grading essays for the Collegeboard to pay for the trip. Other graders wondered if they should take on a similar venture next year. I say, go for it. We drove nonstop to Moab but camping along the Green River or in Price appeared tempting. Vermont friends on a similar trip two days ahead did not enjoy their campsite on the Green River but I still would try it if driving at night was a problem. Price was greener and less crowded, yet Moab was calling. We only drove the last 20 miles in waning light at 9 pm, heading right to our air conditioned cabin. Air conditionin...