Is that who I think it is? I heard what I thought was Mark's voice. My dog, Coffee Girl, perked up her ears. She too caught it. But where were they?
We were resting at the high spot of a dirt road that our friends were taking from their RV park (blush) in Virgin, UT. We had biked from the other end of the road, where we were dispersed camping.
It was dead calm, so maybe a human voice really could carry through all that hum-drum Zion scenery.
You can see the road in the left semi-foreground of the photo. And here they come: Jim & Gayle, Bobbie, and Mark, raring to summit on this road.
It was fun to watch the gang coming to us on the summit. Better yet, the "incompatibility" of boondockers (me) versus RV-parkers (them) has been turned into an advantage.
I was promising to take them down a secret canyon, and back to the main road. It would be the first time for me, too. But I cheated a little the previous sunset, and had walked up the canyon from my dispersed campsite. When I found the ATV road out of the canyon, and up onto the mezzanine of the mesa, the sun was setting. We got back to camp at deep dusk.
There was something symbolic about the voices that I heard. They were the voices of camping/outdoorsmen friends, lost in a vast scenic area. Regardless of how scenic it was, it would have been empty without them, just as my 16 years of full time RVing was emptier than it should have been because I didn't have a tribe like this to share the good times with.
We were resting at the high spot of a dirt road that our friends were taking from their RV park (blush) in Virgin, UT. We had biked from the other end of the road, where we were dispersed camping.
It was dead calm, so maybe a human voice really could carry through all that hum-drum Zion scenery.
You can see the road in the left semi-foreground of the photo. And here they come: Jim & Gayle, Bobbie, and Mark, raring to summit on this road.
It was fun to watch the gang coming to us on the summit. Better yet, the "incompatibility" of boondockers (me) versus RV-parkers (them) has been turned into an advantage.
I was promising to take them down a secret canyon, and back to the main road. It would be the first time for me, too. But I cheated a little the previous sunset, and had walked up the canyon from my dispersed campsite. When I found the ATV road out of the canyon, and up onto the mezzanine of the mesa, the sun was setting. We got back to camp at deep dusk.
There was something symbolic about the voices that I heard. They were the voices of camping/outdoorsmen friends, lost in a vast scenic area. Regardless of how scenic it was, it would have been empty without them, just as my 16 years of full time RVing was emptier than it should have been because I didn't have a tribe like this to share the good times with.
Comments
Box Canyon
Gayle