Read Part 1 here.
The youngest planned this trip like she does most everything-did her research, shopped around, and made good choices. We were scheduled for a slot canyon tour Thursday morning before we left Page, Arizona. I learned that a slot canyon is formed when water rushes through the cracks in the rock. It’s quite narrow inside. We had to walk single file through much of it, light filtering down through the deep crevice, giving the walls a warm orange glow. There are more popular tours, but the one she found for us included an ATV ride through Navajo Nation with about thirteen other people. Our guide told us about the canyon, suggested which filter to use on our phones to get the best pictures, then let us explore on our own, following behind to answer any questions we might have. With the small number of people, we got some great pictures and had about an hour to look around. It was a unique and beautiful place.
After lunch, we headed toward Zion National Park. The Welcome to Utah sign read, “Life Elevated” and the countryside began to change from grassy rolling hills with mountains in the distance, to steep red-orange rock formations. Our drive that day was only a few hours and it rained intermittently the whole way. We decided that sleeping in the car was a good option if it was pouring when we got to the campground, but it let up by the time we reached our destination. We checked in, got a fire started, and put hobo meals on to cook while we set up camp.
Kent was an RA counselor for years and he’s made sure we’re all good campers. Hobo meals are one of his specialties. If you cut up potatoes, carrots, and onions, add hamburger, salt and pepper, and a dollop of cream of mushroom or chicken soup on a square of heavy-duty aluminum foil, seal it, then place it directly on the coals of a campfire, turning it every twenty minutes for about an hour, you can split open the top and experience wonderfulness. We had to eat them in the car because it began to sleet when they were almost ready, but they were everything we hoped they’d be. By the time we finished dinner, the sky had cleared and we were able to make S’mores on what was left of our coals.
As we ate our S’mores, we noticed two college students in the next campsite trying to get a fire going with wood that had been left out in the rain. Another Dad trick that our youngest knows is how to start a fire, so we walked over and offered to help. While she arranged their wood, we struck up a conversation. When they realized we were mother and daughter, they were interested in how our trip was going. I jokingly said, “She invited me along, but said I couldn’t bring up anything controversial until Utah…Wait! We’re in Utah!” Their eyes widened and they quickly glanced at her to see her reaction. “What kind of controversial things?” they asked, wide-eyed. She continued arranging their wood and calmly replied, “Oh, you know, politics, religion…” They weren’t quite sure what to say next, but we laughed and they relaxed. We enjoyed talking with them. It turned out they were brother and sister traveling together. We never managed to get their fire started. I think they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.
We turned in and slept through a windy night, convincing ourselves that the snuffling noises outside our tent were from the deer we saw in the campground when we arrived. Friday morning, on the advice of a friend, we caught the 6:15 shuttle to Angel’s Landing trailhead in order to beat the crowd and hiked up the two miles of steep switchbacks to Scout’s Lookout. Angel’s Landing is another half mile further on and the youngest told me, “If you’re uncomfortable with anything, just say. It’s okay.” A year or so ago, I’d have scaled the slanted bare rock face covered in loose sand next to the 8,000 foot drop-off, but, well, I’ve got two grandkids now and I want to have adventures with them one day, so I turned back part way into the trail. She gave me her blessing, kept going, and got some great pictures while I had a snack, fought off the man-eating chipmunks, and waited for her to return. Then, as a ranger suggested, we continued on West Rim Trail, hiking a total of 11.5 miles up and down two mountains. We saw deer, snow, a cross-country runner, and some gorgeous scenery. We were glad to crawl into our sleeping bags that night.
Next day was Bryce Canyon National Park, about an hour and a half away. We had to get up early to get a good campsite since they are first come, first served. It was a beautiful blue-sky kind of day. We were so sore from our hike the day before, that we decided to take our time and only hike one trail. The highlights of Bryce Canyon were the hoodoos (tall spires of rock), throwing snowballs at 9,000 feet elevation, and getting to take a shower at the camp store.
My youngest’s “No controversy until Utah” mandate reminded me of a trip I took out west with my own parents years ago and how differently from this trip it turned out. I was pregnant with her older sister. Mom and Dad were going to make a road trip to Wyoming to visit friends and invited me along. Dad was in a summer science institute in Colorado and Mom and I flew out and met him in Denver. We were planning to make a loop through Salt Lake City, the Grand Tetons, and Yellowstone, then circle back to Denver where I would fly home, leaving them to take their time driving back.
Kent warned me, “You sure you want to do this? That’s a long time together in the car.” “I know,” I replied optimistically. “But I’ve never been out west, it’ll be fun. We’ll be okay.” By the time we reached Wyoming, tensions were so high Mom told me, “I wish you hadn’t come.” I called Kent from an outdoor restaurant in Jackson Hole and tearfully said, “I will move to the other side of the world, to Laos (nothing personal to Laos, it’s just the furtherest-away place I could think of at the time), before I will ever move back in with my parents.”
Don’t judge, you know you’ve been there. Family relationships can be wonderful, painful, and amazing all at the same time. One thing I took away from that trip was the realization that I wanted to give my own children the freedom to disagree with me, the understanding that disagreement is not the same thing as disrespect. Through the years, we have not always seen eye to eye, and there have been times I have called them out-and vice versa-but I have tried to pick my battles wisely “speaking the truth in love.*” I wanted to teach them that peacemaking involves honesty in addressing problems in an atmosphere of mutual respect and love, and that spirited discussions can be windows into each other’s hearts. I’ve tried my best to raise them to talk about the hard things while building bridges instead of barriers, and to acknowledge that every family has issues, how we handle them makes all the difference.
As we wrapped up the first of two camping segments, two-thirds of the way to Washington, we had one week remaining on our trip. I made up my mind to savor every second of it. Salt Lake City, Grand Tetons, and Yellowstone, here we come.
*Ephesians 4:15
