Tuesday, June 10
Today I make preparations for leaving in the morning. What does that mean? Mostly cleaning and putting things where they belong.
Some time shortly after noon the county’s road grader goes by.
His name is Ted, an amiable guy, interested in RVing to Arizona during the winters when he retires.
“Were you here last year?” he asks. “I think I saw you.”
“Yes, I was. And I bet that was you I saw working up there,” I reply, pointing to the road above us, where it slices diagonally across the mountain.
Later the crew and I go down the mountain to the Ephraim post office.
I pick up two copies of the August 17, 2013 issue of the Arizona Republic sent to me by a very thoughtful reader. I hadn’t seen the article written by Scott Craven about Rusty and Timber moving into their home.
On the return up the mountain we stop to investigate forest roads.
At the first stop, I let out Bridget and Spike. We walk together searching for campsites in the event we visit Badger Mountain again. We find two, one of them presently occupied.
The sky darkens as a rainstorm approaches.
I cut our walk short and continue the drive up the mountain. I bring down my window to let in the cool breeze. Along with the breeze comes a bee which hits me on the collarbone and immediately stings. Of course, we’re on a steep incline when this happens.
I hold the brake pedal with my right foot and push the emergency brake with my left.
By the time I get the damn bee out of my shirt it has stung me on my collarbone, shoulder, and neck. Oh well, almost three years of camping and this is my first bee encounter. I’m doing okay. That works out to one bite per year.
I lock the crew in the PTV and walk another forest road.
The road soon deteriorates to the point where I wouldn’t drag the BLT over it. The next road, however, leads to two campsites.
One is in a large, grassy clearing.
Lots of sunshine for the solar panel.
The other site is more secluded and shady.
Very picturesque with a tiny stream a few feet from the campsite (second photo above). There’s a magic-forest charm to this site. Clean, woodsy, fairly level, nice!
The tracks are very deep. I’d have to drive it with one wheel on the center hump and the other wheel on the outside edge, close to the bushes. I could do it. It wouldn’t be easy and I’d have to go very carefully, but, man, that site would be worth it. It wouldn’t be good to camp here until after mud season . . . .
I don’t know where we will camp tomorrow.
Many forest roads in this part of Utah lead into narrow canyons where internet signal is difficult to pick up. If I seem to disappear, don’t be concerned. I’ll do my best, though, to find a camp with good elevation.
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Spike naps after hiking along the North Fork of Cispus River, Randle Washington, August 2013