Utah Road Trip - Part 2

Remembering the Utah trip made me think about what makes a vacation cross that line from being fun to a disaster? Is it one adverse event? Does it need to be a catastrophic event? Is there a series of events? Is it an event that you still can't find humor in years later?

I'm not really sure, but despite having some unfortunate incidents on other trips, I think of all of them with at least some fond memories (and some stories that entertain friends and family). Yet the Utah trip is pretty much remembered as a disaster. I'm not sure why. I guess the fun I had visiting and hiking through spectacular national parks didn't outweigh some of the things that went wrong.

Starting the trip with car problems, and then experiencing them a couple days later, set the tone for the trip. I was always a little paranoid that the brakes would die again - and since many of the roads were fairly steep and curvy, it was a bit nerve-wracking!

One unfortunate incident happened once I arrived in Moab. I decided to take an off-road jeep tour through Canyonlands National Park. The tour consisted of a guide, me, and a family of four. There were two boys (approx. 10 and 12), and two high strung, type A parents who thought they knew a lot more than they did. Throughout the tour, this couple sniped about nearly everything. We had to go up a fairly rocky, steep trail called Elephant Hill, which was a technically difficult drive for a 4WD. The ride up was painstakingly slow. The entire time, the dad kept shouting at the driver to drive faster, and that he paid for a 4WD adventure and he wasn't getting his money's worth at 3 mph. The guide tried to explain that it was a difficult trail and you needed to go slow or we would all die. The dad kept whining and the mom joined in.... until the front of the jeep was pointing downward. Then she shut up and told the driver she needed to get out. She whined that she would rather walk than die in the jeep, since she was conviced he was going to roll it (even at 3 mph).

The excruciating jeep ride finally ended (I think both the guide and I had a splitting migraine by this time) and the hike started. The guide started describing rock formations, and the "know it all mom" kept correcting him. Her corrections were incorrect. As we were hiking the trail from Chesler Park to the Devil's Kitchen, the guide was talking about the different spires and grabens. The mom kept correcting him and telling him that the correct word was "garblens". He tried to assure her that they were called grabens; the dad joined the argument - and complained that he paid good money for a guide who never even heard of garblens!

As the hike continued, the trail practically disappeared, and was marked by cairns (piles of stones marking the trails). The dad thought it was prudent to race his sons to the next cairn, and then the winner got to kick it over. The guide instructed them not to touch them, since they marked the trail, but the dad again pointed out that they "paid good money for this tour and could do what they wanted!" At this point, I was done. I needed to get away from these horrible people. I told the guide that I needed to turn around. He offered to assist me with the rest of the hike, but I made it clear that I wanted to go back - unassisted - and he could take as much time as he wanted with the other people. His eyes pleaded for me to take him too, but I couldn't do that. After all, the horrible people paid good money for their tour and they wanted every minute of it!
The hike back was actually quite nice once the nasty family was out of ear shot. I spent time watching birds and lizards, found a few interesting bugs, and started naming rock formations. I called this one "Turtle Rock" because it looks like a big turtle to me. I had about an hour and a half of peace before I could hear the family returning - and then, I could hear their whining for a half hour before I actually saw them. Thankfully, they were tired and fairly quite on the way back. That was until we entered the town of Moab again. Then they started up with their whining about what a disappointment the tour was and how they were going to speak to the manager and demand their money back. I was sitting in the front of the truck with the guide, and we just kept rolling our eyes at each other and shaking our heads. Once we got back to the tour office, the whining family went in the office to complain. The guide offered to buy me a beer to make up for the bad tour, but since Utah only served watered-down "near beer", what was the point? After that day, I needed something MUCH stronger!