Bowdie Gypsum 2004
Frustration in SE Utah
Makin' the best of a Great Situation
Epilogue
Ah, to be "stranded" in southeastern Utah with time to kill. The possibilities are endless. Sue and Andy and Susie and I had pretty much decided to head up to Moab and Arches National Park for a couple of nights. Lance and his crew thought that such would be a good idea too. See-everything-there-is-to-see Will, along with Ron and John, decided that they might take a day trip to Moab, but arranged for a float trip on the San Juan for Sunday. Barbara thought she would join the Moab crew, so after a stop at the Blanding laundromat (Sue smiled at the proprietor so he would let us in before the normal opening time), eight of us headed for Moab. It has changed big time since I first saw it over 25 years ago, but so has a lot of America. We found a campground just outside the entrance to the park, with, thankfully, green grass upon which to pitch tents, and HOT SHOWERS. It was a far cry from wilderness, especially in the middle of the night with the trucks roaring by on the highway, but the wine and beer flowed, and it was a good jumping off spot to see some of Arches. Most everyone in our 8 person mini-caravan had never been there before, and for me, 25 years' passage was enough for me to call it nearly new.
We ran into the rest of our crew during our first day at Arches, and they ran into Ray that evening in Moab, so he came out to our campsite and chatted for a while. His cold seemed to be waning, and he was suffering less from the frustration of an aching hip. Our second day in Arches held something special for me: we had decided to eat dinner early, and hike up to the Delicate Arch overview and watch the sunset. The weather was not particularly cooperative, but the sun eventually dipped below the cloud deck, and offered of few minutes of gloriously pink lighting, a high note on which to end the trip.
Our respective vehicles all had a relatively leisurely drive back to Albuquerque, Lance's need for the remainder of the Coleman fuel to insure that he not run out of gas before getting back to Monticello notwithstanding. Pointing out that I had noticed several gas stations in Moab seemed to be met with minimal humor. But seven of us (Barbara had gone back with the other half of the crew) enjoyed a good lunch at the Twin Rocks Café in Bluff. Their Navajo Tacos are nearly as good as those of the San Juan Café in Mexican Hat, and the service was a lot faster. As might be expected, we split up for dinner. I was just tired of running around with everyone, and opted (along with maybe 8 or 9 others) for the Applebee's across the street from where we were staying. Interestingly, both Sue and Susie were refused alcoholic beverage service because they had left their purses back in the room and could not produce ID. The waiter explained that there was a new law in New Mexico requiring "carding" of everyone served alcohol. He was not particularly convincing, and that was the first time it had ever been applied to anyone I was traveling with in the State. It just shows that life is full of surprises.
Looking back over the trip, I keep ruminating on what I might have done differently to insure a more successful outcome. In the case of Gypsum, I don't feel too bad. We got down into Gypsum and our lack of exploration was just symptomatic of the energy expenditure to get to that point. Bowdie is another story. You can study aerial photos and topo maps and 3D renderings of terrain until you are blue in the face, but a 15 foot drop on smooth, steeply sloped rock can stop a group cold without climbing equipment, proper ropes, and the ability to negotiate such. And 15 feet will never show up on any map or rendering. Maybe we are just getting older and are unwilling to risk a serious fall. Five of us were "graduates" of the 2002 Beartooth trip and have first hand experience with the challenges of getting an injured hiker out of the wilderness. It seems pretty obvious that there are easier ways to get into the North and South Forks of Bowdie. It will just take another trip or two, and a whole lot of water cached on the rim, to find those spots. But ponder the complexities of my original plan for this trip, before the water levels in Lake Powell dropped to the point that no chartered boat could haul the hikers up to the mouth of Gypsum Canyon. Similar in concept to our 2002 Moqui Canyon trip, I had wanted to have a boat drop us off at the mouth of Gypsum, so that we could hike up Gypsum and Fable Valley, cross over to Bowdie, and head down to the Lake for a boat pick-up a week later. Faced with the need to have to meet the pick up boat at the appointed time, we would have probably risked the slot that I found. Probably.
© Roger A. Jenkins, 2004