At Sinkhole flat, not only did they run out of gas, they hadn't brought any extra. When they go up to the property they don't wheel as much as we did and they have spare gas up there. But luckily there was enough spare gas around camp to get them running again and then Sunday morning they took a trip to Green River to refill.
So, Jason got off work early Friday and we were on the road about 1:30. Mom and Dad weren't getting off for a few more hours and Uncle Eric thought they could meet up along the way and caravan together, however, Aunt Leslie got off work early too. But Mom and Dad wouldn't be very far behind and they had the map and directions.
Well, with all the construction going on in the Big Shitty, I-80 was a parking lot and it was a few more miles of sit-&-go traffic to even get near the on-ramps. Getting directly on I-15 would be better, or so they thought. I think it took them half an hour to get to an on-ramp that wasn't closed. By then it was rush hour, on a Friday.
We were sitting at camp, not the one my parents had the map and directions to because it was already taken, and Abriana asked, "When are Grandma and Grandpa going to be here?! I want to see them!" Aunt Leslie made a stab-in-the-dark, "Maybe they stopped for dinner, so I'd say they'll be here in...oh...about 35 minutes." 10 minutes later the van pulled up. Mom was driving, there was no trailer and no Dad either. They blew a tire on the trailer about half an hour from camp, didn't have a spare and Dad was sitting with the wheelers.
Uncle Eric had a spare and Jason went to rescue Dad. Mom started getting a little nervous when they weren't back yet and I told her I'd drive her down the road if she wanted. Just then we saw headlights. It was Dad and Jason but still no trailer; the spare went flat 4 miles from camp! Dad had hammered the fender back in place after the blow out and he even spun the tire around to make sure it wasn't touching. But, in the dark and cold, he didn't think to make sure the tire wasn't touching when he took the trailer off the jack. Oops! But again, Uncle Eric came to the rescue and pulled a tire off his trailer so my parents could get everything to camp.
With everyone finally at camp, the party began, and Eric and Cameron tended the fire. Those two love a huge fire; if it's not 6 feet high and blazing hot 10 feet away then it's not a fire.
Sophie thinks she is a parrot and could not be comfortable unless she was perched.
Mom and Dad took off early Saturday morning to make the hour or so drive to Delta to get some new tires. They were able to replace the blown ones, but the tire place didn't have rims for them to get a spare. At least it was better than nothing and they would be able to get home.
When Mom and Dad got back it was off to explore. We went up to one mine where there were the prettiest purple rocks.
You can't really see the color, but those holes are entrances that go down. I walked over there with Chey and she got a little nervous, "Mommy, careful, fall." (which means: be careful, don't fall). There's also a large hole on the left that goes down about 50 feet and is about 25 feet across. Everyone else had been down in that when they went in the lower mine, I was in the jeep with a sleeping little one.
After we explored that mine, we went looking for another, but couldn't get the jeeps through the gate so we went wheeling. It was a nice sunny day and we ended up childless; Abriana was riding with Grandma, Kayla with Uncle Eric and Grandpa had Chey. It was so relaxing to spend some time with just my hubby.
When we got back to camp, the kids still hadn't had enough of the wheelers, and Cheyenne and Ian had become quite the little buddies. They would go from wheeler to wheeler and "bive." They followed each other around and had a good ol' time playing.
The next day everyone was eager to look for rocks and stones. You just gotta when you go all the way to Topaz. Cameron knew a guy that gave him permission to rock hound on his claim, but first we checked out an area we thought might be good. I got a pretty good sized one with the help of...everyone. Jason first started hammering but, earlier he had saved a huge stake from crashing into his knee as it was rolling down the rock, and in the process smashed and peeled his finger. Every time he swung the hammer blood literally squirted, it was kinda gross.
On the way back to camp we ran into a lonely antelope that posed for pictures.
It was another great weekend, and I really enjoy the fact that my parents love to do what we do and join us on our adventures. And you know, they weren't the only ones with problems that trip; Uncle Eric's motorcycle quit running, Cameron seized the engine on his motorcycle and his scrambler and Eric's motorcycle was giving him fits.
Until next time...no plans yet until Memorial.
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