Oh, Phillip!

The minute we arrived in Grover, Rachel started worshiping Phillip. She walked right up to him and demanded to be picked up. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


It was great for us! Rachel would follow him around. He'd carry her around, sing songs to her, twirl her around on the rocking chairs. He was the best entertainment she'd seen in weeks, I'm sure!

I think Phillip had a good time, too, because when Matthew showed up, Phillip had to be reminded several times that he needed to spend time with Matthew, too. When we got in the cars to drive to Fremont Falls, Phillip got in the backseat with Rachel. He had to switch to sit with Matthew because Matthew was bummed. I just thought it was funny that Phillip was choosing the company of a 1 year old baby to that of his 11 year old best bud.

On Thursday night (last week, in Grover) we had a marshmallow roast. We hadn't been planning on making a fire so we didn't bring any good roasting sticks and were forced to scavenge the barren wasteland they call Southern Utah. Nothing grows there. We did manage to find a few good sticks, though. I use the word "we" quite liberally, since I didn't really help.

Andrew and his burning ball of mellow

It got nice and dark very fast, with no streetlights around to brighten things up. The stars were beautiful and the moon was full, so we had enough light to see the occasional bat fly by. And of course there were bugs, but surprisingly few. I only got one mosquito bite the whole time we were there. Rachel didn't get bitten once. Andrew, well, he got bitten a few times, but not nearly as much as we were expecting.

"Something just flew into my head!" shrieked Sarah D.

"It was just a bug," someone said.

"It was huge!" she insisted.

"Maybe it was a bat," someone joked.

We all went on trying to enjoy our evening while keeping a lookout for whatever had his Sarah in the head.

We were just discovering the joys of roasted Starbursts (seriously, you roast them on a stick, in a fire, without the wrapper and the outside gets all crunchy while the inside gets all gooey--so good!) when Phillip started screaming and pointing at his leg.

"Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!" he screamed, still as a statue.

Geniuses that we are, no one had remembered to bring a flashlight, so we couldn't see what was on Phillip's leg. Someone managed to knock it off and Phillip streaked off to the cabin, crying.

We wanted to know what had been on his leg, so I brought out the camera and started using the "aim" light to comb the ground. (I don't really know what the light is called...it's the red light before the flash). Suddenly I spotted something twitching.

There on the ground was the biggest, ugliest bug ever.


To give you an idea of it's size, it was at least as long as Andrew's index finger, up to the second knuckle (techincally his minor knuckle, I guess). That's about two inches long! And then this little guy's antena are two or three times the size of his body! Crazy!

After we got a good look at it, Suzy went inside to Phillip and cuddled with him on the couch until he was calmed down. She's such a good sister!

I still haven't figured out what it is. It's definitely a Cerambycidae, but I can't find the actual name for the bug. It looks kind of like a Banded Alder Borer but it's spotted and not striped.

At least we found out what hit Sarah in the head. And Phillip ended up sleeping in the cabin with us instead of out under the stars--not that I blame him. I wouldn't have wanted to be hit with a bug that big, either. We were all a little jumpy that night, though I think it was more Phillip's screaming that shook us up, not the bug.

Sulfur Creek

We have, in our possession, a certain category of clothes that not many people have. Grover clothes.

When we were packing a few weeks ago, Andrew took some of his ruined shirts out and said, "Let's pack these. I never wear them."

"Grover," I said.

"Oh, yeah," he said.

It is quite the gamble to take clothes that you like to Grover. Therefore, everyone ends up in grungy (and sometimes interesting) outfits, suited for the red landscape. You've probably noticed that Rachel has a lot of pictures in that peach-colored onesie. That's because she wore it almost every day we were there. I'd just rinse it out after she was in her pyjamas and put her in it the next morning.

Since we knew that we'd be hiking in a "river of Chocolate," Andrew and I were sure to choose our least favorite clothes when we got ready for the hike. Sometimes the water is clear and you don't have to worry quite so much...but since we'd just had a flash flood in that area we played it extra safe.

We debated bringing Rachel with us, but in the end we decided to leave her back at the cabin with Grandma.

For the first little while, the hike was really easy and we were wondering why we hadn't brought Rachel. It was a meandering course through an old, dried up river bed.

Even when we reached Sulphur Creek, it didn't look all that treacherous. The water had subsided and it was a gentle trickle, not even covering our shoes.

"We should have brought Rachel," said Sister Gillespie. I had to agree with her.

But as we got farther on our way, the water got deeper and faster.

"When Suzy was a baby, we were playing in a stream about like this. I was holding her hand and she slipped and fell right under the water. If I hadn't been holding her hand we never would have found her--you couldn't see anything in the water. It's a good thing we didn't bring Rachel," Sister Gillespie amended her previous statement.


Looking down at my feet, I had to agree with her again. The water was so turbid that, even though it was still just past my ankles, I couldn't see a trace of my shoes. If Rachel fell over in the water, she'd be gone within minutes.

The hike also wasn't as easy as it had first seemed, or as people had remembered it in the past. The river was swifter, hiding the riverbed under a blanket of muddy water. The shore was muddy from the flood; everything was covered in a coat of fresh and slippery silt. We had two options.

The first was to walk blindly in the river, feeling your way with your feet, and risking a twisted ankle.

The second was to walk on the bank of the river, squishing through the muck, and risking losing a shoe (and twisting your ankle in the process).

Both paths guaranteed several slips, no matter how careful you were. For the most part, we chose to walk in the river since it didn't grab at our shoes, but when we were tired of stubbing our toes and tripping over rocks we'd hop out of the river to walk in the mud, only to tire of that after a few minutes and get back in the river.

Everywhere we looked, we saw evidence of the previous day's flood. We were glad to be walking in ankle deep water, instead of wading in up to our waists.

Like my pink socks? They used to be white.

Around the first waterfall, there is a tree affectionately called "The Love Tree." This picture doesn't show it the greatest, but the tree actually spells the word love. Andrew and I are filling in for the O, but you can clearly see the L, V, and E. Well, you could see the E, except that it's kind of cut out of the picture.


The first waterfall was pretty easy to hike around. The second waterfall, though, was much more tricky. This was when I was really glad that we hadn't brought Rachel with us.

Reid and me in the second waterfall

There's quite a big gap between the second and third waterfalls. We were beginning to wonder if there really was a third one at all. Finally, there was. And then I was really, really, really glad that we hadn't brought Rachel.

The easiest way to get down the waterfall is to slide down. Poor Matthew was too scared to slide down and so was passed down the cliff with the help of his mom, Brother Gillespie, Andrew, and Reid. He ended up banging into the side, causing some tears. I couldn't see myself sending Rachel down either way without having a fit.

Me about to slide down the falls

Andrew standing on his tip toes

Three hours later and we limped safely, and sorely, to the Visitor's Center and happily reunited with our baby. We rinsed off our socks and shoes as best we could, finding handfuls of rocks in our shoes and spraying red water all over the place. Andrew ended up throwing away his stylish pink socks, but I kept mine to add to our stash of Grover clothes. I may need those socks again.

Flash flood and Fremont Falls

On Friday, everyone went to hike Calf Creek--well, everyone except for Grandma, Rachel and I. Six hours is a little long for me to be away from Rachel still, and Karen needed to go grocery shopping.

I will let Andrew tell about Calf Creek, and I will tell about our adventures at the cabin.

Rachel and I fell asleep nursing and had a wonderfully leisurely nap. Karen read while we napped and when we finally woke up we left to go grocery shopping.

First, however, we wanted to find out what time church was going to be at on Sunday. We stopped by Slacker's Burger Joint and Karen went to the window to ask the staffers what time church was.

"I dunno," came the teenager-esque response, "I live in Bicknell. I think they're tearing the Torrey building down though and so they're supposed to be at our building but they're not there yet."

We drove by the picturesque chapel--a small, old, redbrick building. The lawn had been allowed to die, the flag was not up, and there was a truck pulled up to a set of open doors. Karen went in to ask whoever was inside what time church was.

The inside of the chapel was all torn up and the worker inside didn't know what time they were meeting, either. He was a little more helpful than the teenagers, however, and directed us to M&D Auto--where the bishop of the Bicknell ward works. He was able to tell us that his ward has sacrament meeting at 11:00, but he wasn't sure what the Torry ward schedule was since they hadn't met at his building yet.

Deciding that we'd spent enough time searching for a forthright answer we concluded that we'd just show up at the Bicknell chapel at 11:00. With that task behind us, we headed off to Loa to go grocery shopping.

While we were in the store it started raining. We could hear it pouring on the sheet metal roof, making Rachel laugh. It was coming down so hard!

We watched the clouds while we were driving, hoping that it wasn't pouring on the Calf Creek hikers or soaking the tents back at the cabin. A half hour later we arrived in Grover, finding our campsite and campers bone dry. The clouds had somewhat disappeared. It looked like we would stay dry.

Rachel and I woke Daddy up from his post-hike nap so that he could come to Fremont Falls with us. He was reluctant, but wanted to see Rachel at the falls, so he got up anyway. We made a stop at The Goosenecks to look down on Sulfur Creek, the hike we had planned for Saturday.

There's a short path to a lookout point. Rachel loved that hike. We let her get down and walk for a little bit even though she kept falling over. She's not very good at walking in shoes. Or on an incline.

Hiking with Grandpa

We looked over the edge of the lookout, down 800 feet, to Sulfur Creek. It was absolutely torrential--muddy water was whipping angrily around the bends. It looked dangerous. It looked difficult. It looked like it wasn't going to be like a lot of fun to hike.

Rachel and me at the lookout

"We're hiking that?" we asked.

We had been told a lot about the Sulfur Creek hike. It was an easy hike, following the path of the river, down three waterfalls. That afternoon, however, it didn't look like we wanted to even attempt going down those waterfalls.

My beautiful baby

"This is the highest I've ever seen the river," answered Andrew's parents, "We'll stop by the Visitor's Center and ask if this hike is still open."

It was.

Still wondering if we wanted to battle the river, we headed on to Fremont Falls, noticing that the water was clear and calm.

"Strange," Karen remarked, "I thought that Sulfur Creek fed into the Fremont River..."

Rachel was all too eager to follow Daddy into the water. I was a little more reluctant--it's a little cold for my taste--I prefer to get in slowly, inch by inch.

Let's do it again, Gramps!

At first, we were letting her wade in the water still wearing her onesie, but she was persistent, so we stripped her down and let her go all the way in.


She had only forded the river a few times when a man wearing a forest green shirt and binoculars (and pants, of course) came sprinting down the hill. He looked rather offical, and slightly out of breath.

"There's a flash flood coming!" he announced, "Trees, debris, muddy water!"

He took a few deep breaths before continuing, "It should be here in 10 or 15 minutes. Very dangerous. I would move to higher ground."

Not wanting my baby to be swept along with a bunch of logs and mud, we packed up and went to the top of the hill to hang around and wait for the flood to come. The flood took a lot longer to come than we thought--we started to think that the man hadn't really come to warn us, but had come to clear us out of the river so that he could take pictures or something.

Waiting

We waited and waited and waited. Rachel went on several walks with different people, played with Phillip (whom she adores), and found some wonderful sandstones shaped like blocks. She banged them together, just like she does with her blocks at home. When she discovered that they made sand, she started licking and biting them, making horrible scratchy noises with her teeth. It was quite disgusting.

Banging her rocks together

Yummy!

A family from Denmark, touring the states in an RV, got impatient and drove upstream to check things out. They returned in a matter of mintues, a lot sooner than Brother Gillespie, who had run upstream for the same purpose.

The Danish father jumped out of the RV and exclaimed in his thick accent, "Zere is big river of shocolate coming zis way!"

Within a few minutes the river had risen a foot or two. Then we saw the debris. And finally, a gush of dark, muddy water gushed around the bend.

Before

During

After

It was quite an experience to watch it happen. When it finally happened, it was rather flash-like, but while we were waiting for it it didn't feel that way. We waited for about 40 minutes, and the flood happened about 5 hours after the rainstorm in Loa. Apparently it takes a while for the water to work its way into the river's system. When it started coming, though, it was rather fast and forceful.

We went back to Fremont Falls on Saturday after successfully hiking Sulfur Creek. The water level had gone down quite a bit, and the color went from a deep chocolate to a bright pink, keeping the color of the landscape.

Most of us in Fremont Falls

It was hard to believe that we were in the same place we had been in the day before. The water was the exact color of the ground...and a little deeper than before.

But still just as fun!

Horseshoes

I had never played horseshoes until last week. It's actually a lot more difficult than it looks.

I watched Phillip, who is 11, play against Reid, who has been playing for years. They made throwing those horseshoes look so simple. And then I got onto the platform.

The first several of my attempts were absolutely fruitless. I didn't even make it near the pit.

We had to switch to lighter horseshoes. Then I kept overshooting. It was terrible. I certainly did not inherit my Grandpa Conrad's aim.

Going in for the kill

I played against Andrew and he won, 11:1. My only consolation is that when I played against James later in the week, he beat me 11:10, so even though I still lost I had obviously improved some.

Fore!

Rachel loved to sit in the camping chairs and watch everyone play. She was my personal cheerleader, clapping every time Mommy threw a horseshoe, and sitting quietly through Daddy's turn.

Go, Mommy, go!

Rachel decided that she should get in on this horseshoe-action, herself, and scored a ringer on her first try.

It's a ringer!

Actually, I might need two hands for this game.

There, that's better.

Zesty!

In addition to horseshoes we played several rounds of Zilch, Hand and Foot, Mexican Train, and Nertz. It was nice to be able to tuck Rachel away in the cabin after she had fallen asleep so that we could play out in the pavilion and be as loud as we wanted. She was a real trooper and slept through most of the nightly comings and goings of teeth brushers, mattress grabbers, and game players. I think that's due in part to her playing herself out during the day...

Dirt don't hurt

Last year we missed out on the Grover camping trip because of Rachel. She was born the day before everyone came back. Andrew phoned his family the day she was born and left them a voice mail telling them so.

They called back, questioning his truthfulness. He told them that we were in the hospital right then. For real. With a baby. I don't think they believed him until they heard her cry. Then they rushed home, showered, and came to meet her.

This year we took her to Grover with us. Andrew hasn't been to Grover since before his mission--it's been five years too long for him. And, I must admit, I enjoy Grover as well.

We weren't sure how Rachel was going to take the whole thing since she was afraid of the tents in Grandma and Grandpa's backyard. Grandpa tried to convince us that we should borrow a pack'n'play and stay in the cabin.

I wasn't too sure about this since the cabin is a little scary (read: mice). I would rather stay in a tent without mice than in a cabin with mice.

We ended up borrowing a tent from my parents (thanks, Mom and Dad!) and a pack'n'play from Heather (thanks, Heather!) so that we could decide on what to do when we got there.

Turns out, Uncle Raymond and his brother, Big Bob, have been working hard on the cabin and they just finished a loft. It was brand new, bright and airy, and essentially mouse-and-spider free.

We claimed it as our home and took Rachel out to play.

I've got a stick, hey, hey, hey, hey!

The first thing she did was find a stick. Then she went around banging everything she saw with it...and no one stopped her. Then she got into all the tent supplies...and no one stopped her. Then she face planted in the dirt...and no one stopped her to wipe off her face. She was, quite decidedly, in baby heaven.

Auntie Em, I think you need this pole next.

What do you mean, "Where are the pegs?" I left them in the bag!

She loved being so messy and touching so many new things. Everyone let her help with whatever she wanted to help with because there was no risk involved. What was she going to do, make the dirt dirtier?

I'm a good helper, Mommy!

When the tents were almost all set up, Andrew and I decided that we should take Rachel for a walk so that everyone else could actually get some work done. Daddy wanted to show her the forts that he (and his siblings, cousins, and friends) would make in days gone by, so we hiked up the hill south of the cabin.

King of the hill

That is where Rachel began her love affair with rocks. Previous to Grover she had enjoyed rocks. She liked to pick them up and put them in her mouth and throw them, but she had never before had such opportunity to so completely surrounded by rocks. She loved it.

Grandpa asked if I brought any toys for her.

"Sure," I answered, "They're in the cabin."

"Outside toys," he clarified, "Like her shovels and things."

"Oh, no," I said, "She didn't seem to enjoy them much at the beach so we just left them home this time."

I think that was a good call on our part. Does this look like the face of a child who needs a toy?

She used the rocks as blocks, drums, hammers, and chew toys. She probably would have taken the rocks to bed with her if we had permitted (we draw the line at whisks).

...and we have here our "rock sandwich."

Mmmmm...Delectable!

The rocks down in the Waterpocket Fold are so fragile that Rachel can actually bite pieces off of the rock. The sound of her teeth grating against the rocks is spine-tingling. She didn't mind the sound, but I think she found the texture to be a little off.

Too crunchy, a little too crunchy!

It was fun for me to watch Andrew and Rachel play together, although I did feel a little leftout. Andrew was reliving his childhood memories with Rachel and Rachel was making her own little memories. I was just holding the camera and trying to make sure that neither of them choked on pieces of sandstone.

Making memories

Rachel could have played up there all day. We had quite the task on our hands to convice her that her life wasn't over just because we were dragging her away from her beloved fort. We promised that she could come back again. We told her there were rocks down by the cabin. We tried to distract her with trees and birds and other rocks.

She screamed the whole way down the hill, and then she kept on screaming.

Only when I showed her the rockwall surrounding the pavilion did she stop screaming.

Now this is more like it!

My sweet little baby turned into a lean, mean, dirt-magnet machine the minute we arrived. We were only a few short hours before bedtime and Rachel was already in dire need of a bath. And it was only our first day...