Final day of our five day five park tour.
And it’s raining.
Like constant rain.
Just all damn day.
And I don’t know about y’all. But driving into a canyon during an all day rainstorm feels…sketchy.
Like, perhaps we shouldn’t be provoking the universe like that?
But we’re nothing if not the sort of dumbasses to provoke the universe.
So in we went.
And pretty immediately. Mark started telling us about Zion’s propensity for flash flooding.
Like, he wouldn’t shut up about it.
And even threw in a fun little anecdote about some Californians who got swept away.
And. Like. Died.
No no. That’s solid information to have, Mark. Thanks.
And we had a reeeeeally long time to listen to Marks flash flooding anecdotes. Because Fall Risk had turned into a 96 year old woman. Behind the wheel.
And there are tunnels.
Did y’all know there were tunnels?
Rogue knew. She’s been here. And she didn’t tell us. During the hour long video messenger love fest last night.
(And by love fest, I mean me drunkenly telling her, repeatedly, how much I miss and love her. And maybe I offered some demonstrations of some stuff…
“I’m certain your Airbnb host has a camera in your room.”
So should I do a sexy move.
“No. Because your sexy move will look…*sigh* like that…”
…yeah, that’s fair.)
So flash flood warnings. During a rainstorm. In a canyon. In a fucking tunnel.
Like, look at this shit.
There’s no light at the end. There’s supposed to be light at the end.
The fuck is that???
The fuck are windows doing in the middle of a fucking tunnel????
That’s just one more avenue for the water to collect. Inside of the fucking tunnel.
This is also probably the point at which I should mention that I did not actually have my eyes open at any point during the 1.1 mile tunnel.
I just held my phone up to video it to experience later.
From the safety of a dry house.
Don’t judge me.
This entire trip was Fall Risk’s trip. I was just along for support.
She was fine.
Because we made it to the bottom.
To the visitor’s center.
And I’m not sure what, exactly, we thought we were gonna do.
But we hopped onto the park bus.
Where we saw this.
Yeah, we didn’t follow a damn one of those directions on Monday during our near-death Utah desert introduction.
Seemed kind of fitting that our Utah outro should be a near drowning.
And the level of danger was just increasing. By the minute. As more and more areas were closing off.
But we jumped off at the last stop anyway.
Mostly because they made us.
And I think the original plan was to do the hike at Temple of Sinawava.
But as soon as we got off the bus. We saw this.
And a few minutes later. They shut it down.
No no. This is fine.
You know, they have all these warnings about flash flooding. But they don’t offer any direction on what to do if you’re caught in one.
I assume you just…die.
So we hopped back on the bus.
Made our way back to the car.
And made the slow climb back up out of the canyon.
So anyway. All of these photos were taken from the car. By me hanging my arm out of the window. For the entirety of the trip in and out. Of the canyon.
Not quite as breathtaking as the last four days.
But honestly. I get overstimulated easily. So this anticlimactic finish was really for the best.
And it also gave us plenty of time to make a stop on the way back to the Airbnb.
It was a struggle to get Fall Risk out of there. But luckily, she forgot her allergy meds. So the threat of anaphylactic shock eventually beat out her kitten addiction. And we were able to leave.
And get back to the Airbnb. Where Airbnb dude made us cookies. And called us sad, lonely, middle aged cat women.
Which is apparently his target audience.
It’s good to be a target sometimes.
Tomorrow we go to Vegas.
To fly home.
Which seems like not what you’re supposed to do in Vegas.
Unless you’re two introverts at the end of a seven day trip.
Then escaping back to the safety of home is the ONLY option.
Especially when my eldest child makes some shit like this and now we’re all weepy in fucking Vegas.
Fucking kids, man.