Moab

Moab was beginning to sound like the promised land.  We were going to stop at the MIC (Moab Information Center) and they were going to give us more information than we could ever want.

Our first test was actually finding it.  I was sitting forward on my seat through town to find it.  Like I said earlier, NOTHING happens quickly with a 38’ rv with trailer in tow.

Government signs got us to the vicinity and then lead us down the primrose path.  Indeed there were RV spots available.  RV spots that could accommodate a 38’ rv, but not the trailer in tow.  So we just let it hang out a bit.  After all, who’s going to argue with something the size of a locomotive?

It. Was. Crowded.

We ran in, got our information and were heading back out.  Looking around, just ready to pull ahead, cut to the right and snake our way back out when. . .another woolly mammoth entered the parking lot and totally blocked our escape route.  The woman jumped out and ran into the MIC.

OK, well can’t blame her for that.  Husband assured us they would be on their way as soon as she returned to him.

LIAR.
She returned and in the meantime they had apparently met someone who was bound and determined to give them every piece of information he possessed about the area.  Sheesh, seriously.  I’m the patient one and I wanted to staple their lips together.  Again we approached them to move along.  “we’ll be just a minute.”

Right.

Nightfall was approaching in a few hours, we didn’t have all night.  Well actually we did, but didn’t really want to spend it in that parking lot.  There was water to be had!  I wanted to make sure I got my second shower of the trip in.  My hair was getting a bit greasy and I had plans to shampoo, condition and rinse with warm water!!  My heart sang!

After much, and I mean much maneuvering to leave to the left since Mr. and Mrs. Gabby were still flapping lips with Mr. lonely planet over there, we were almost out.  Then the Gabby clan decide that they were also leaving and now had to wait for us.  Oh I loved that part.

Back out onto the road we were headed for the RV park to fetch our WATER!!!  I happily slapped down my $5 bill to fill our tank to the brim.  I might have even obtained TWO showers out of this deal before the end of the trip.  Could barely hold me down at that point!  We wove our way back to the designated spot with the stress level building with each lurching moment.  Again the 38’ made us shutter and stress, only to recall that our water hose was back in the van in Prescott.

Buggah!

I was totally deflated.  There would be no shower.  No marvelous cleansing droplets rinsing the dirt and grease off my body.  ARGH!!  So we turned the beast around and headed out of town.  None of the camping spots close to town would take this dinosaur.  Finally, about 20 miles out of town, we slowly descended a hill that was so steep I wondered if we would be able to get back up. The first campsite was the Group A site.  It was empty.  I was hoping a bonafide “Group” wasn’t going to come in in the middle of the night.

I didn’t care.  Between the traffic, the days of dust and grease, and the stress of being pent up in that beast with a crazed pilot, the only thing I wanted at that point was a stiff drink.  BARTENDER!!!!!

Fortunately, Ye doubles as a pretty darn good bartender too.

So as I was sucking down a bubba-keg full of a mighty-fine mixture of attitude adjustment, Ye unloaded my dirtbike and took off in search of information.  Sometime after he came back, I heard the voice of what sounded like a 6 year old squeaky voice calling, “Hello?  Hello?”  By that time I had dragged my stressed-out body to the bed and was lying face down; I had decided to totally ignore the voice.  It wouldn’t go away, but Ye saved me by responding.  Some woman and her bicycling chum wanted to know if they could camp with us.  Well it was a big spot and we were alone. . .so, yeah, OK.

I was hoping we weren’t going to have to listen to the “chatty cathy” all night, but she quieted down and by morning they had packed up and left.  Good.