I'm thinking the Sean Penn reference must mean something about you getting caught in the bathroom since you had to go 10 days without sex. Or something.
Anyway, glad you're back and the scorpions didn't eat you.
Hot, I know.
I arrived in Marble Canyon, Arizona on Saturday night, more than two full days before Tuesday morning's scheduled launch of our eight-day river trip through the Grand Canyon. I came early because Roger, the uncle who arranged for me to swamp on his trip, told me we were to begin preparations on Sunday at noon. Seeing as how it's a seven hour drive from Salt Lake City, it made sense for me to be there the night before.
As I opened my car door my instant thought was, "Holy JESUS, it's hot here". I have felt the heat of the desert southwest many times but it never fails to surprise me with its stifling heaviness. A few of the locals would later tell me that it's actually noticeably cooler than last year at the same time. I guess the six degrees between 104 and 110 must be significant. At this point, to me, they weren't. All I knew is that it was hot and I wasn't optimistic about spending several more days working in this kind of heat.
I saw some hustle and bustle at the appointed place near the little airstrip near the motel and started to ask around for Roger. I figured he'd be around waiting for me to arrive. You remember my uncle Roger... you know... the reason I'm even on this trip... my uncle... the one I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with this week... that uncle.
"Oh, you're early", the perky older woman with the clipboard said, "Didn't Roger call you?"
"Wuh? Call? About what?"
"Roger got sick from the heat on the last run and went home this morning. You'll be running the river with my husband Claire as your boatman."
Guh-reat. I'm sure I don't need to point out that Claire is not my uncle. The whole situation had just dramatically changed.
My heart sank and I felt like crying. I realized at that moment that I had a very long several days of working my ass off for a total stranger ahead of me. But I wasn't bloody well heading back to Salt Lake at this point. I had come to run the Colorado River and, by damn, that's what I was going to do. But I also knew this was not going to be at all the kind of experience I had bargained for.
It was during this same conversation that I was told that I wasn't needed until Monday morning. I had come at least a full day early. I was welcome to make myself at home with the other boatmen at the warehouse and I could even sleep there if I wanted but that I didn't need to hang around there all day Sunday. Clair would be around on Monday morning and he'd put me to work prepping the boat then.
After working out the details of the schedule I called Roger on the phone. I wanted to make sure he was feeling OK. Once I was sure that he was going to be just fine, I threatened to kill him. He told me to stay positive and try to enjoy myself. Afterall, I was getting a free trip that most folks have to empty their 401k accounts to take. He was right, of course, so I asked him for some tips on making the best of my experience.
"Yah, tonight, go throw your shit up on the tongue of that boat trailer and sleep up there... where the scorpions can't get you."
Good tip. Avoid the scorpions. Thanks.
Filed under - Photos | TravelI'm thinking the Sean Penn reference must mean something about you getting caught in the bathroom since you had to go 10 days without sex. Or something.
Anyway, glad you're back and the scorpions didn't eat you.
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Sean Penn, Sean Penn, Sean Penn? Let's get to Spicoli! "Hey...Mr. Hand..."
Sorry, this is good stuff but I am bit impatient.