The sky clouded over during the night, and I woke up hot and had to unzip my bag. By morning the clouds were low and threatening, and the wind was starting to pick up.
I decided to use up some of my leftovers and make an omelette for breakfast. An onion, tomato, mushroom, pulled pork, blue and parmesan cheese omelette, eight eggs cooked in butter. And boy did it hit the spot.
This turned out to be a good move later in the day.
We hit the trail early in Devil's Garden (the trailhead is right next to the campground) and we were soon all alone among the sandstone fins and rocks. The wind was intense, the sky low and grey; threatening. We hiked back through the arches, climbed up a couple of sandstone fins, looked down on Landscape Arch, posed in another arch with the horizon off in the distance. In spite of the cold wind, the sand whipping our faces and getting stuck in our teeth, and the grey skies, it was a beautiful hike.
About noon we got to the Fiery Furnace trailhead, and headed in. We felt lucky: only 15 permits a day are issued. We walked the sandy wash bottoms, got onto the slickrock, and clambered about, finding an arch, a hidden amphitheater, wiggling up several dead end slot canyons and exploring massive rock formations.
When I was tightly wedged in one slot canyon, I looked back and suddenly realized the horizon had disappeared in an ugly brown haze. The storm that had been threatening us all day was here, and it looked like it was really raining.
So we retraced our route as fast as we could, and got out just as the first drops started hitting us.
We headed out of Arches as the brown rain (mixed with the dust from the strong winds all day) picked up, and turned north towards Green River, thinking we might be able to drop lower and camp somewhere dry and warm.
Well, we did eventually find a dry warm place to sleep: in the Rainbow Casino in Wendover, Nevada.
What happened is the wind storm turned into a wind and rain storm, into a full downpour (we are in the desert, mind you. It rains how many days a year here? Two?) the downpour quickly became a snowstorm and the next thing you know we are driving in a blizzard. Over the pass (full on blizzard), we got to Salt Lake City (rain and snow) headed west on I-80 (rain and high winds; the kind of wind that when you pass a semi the sudden loss of wind causes you to swerve towards the truck, and as you pass the sudden gusts hitting you almost push you off the road) and as we kept heading west we noticed the Bonneyville Salt Flats had turned into Bonneyville Lake with whitecaps!
We decided to call it a day and pull into a hotel type camping spot. We weren't alone. So here we are, about eight hours from home, after a full and adventurous week.
We had sandwiches for dinner; I am drinking wine and writing while Dennis is in the casino trying to pay for the trip.
Phew.
I am exhausted just writing about today.
Day 8 cookie count: 4 Trip Total: 91
Neither of us could sleep well indoors, so we were up, out the door by 5:30am, grabbed coffee and gas, and on the road.
It was snowing as we pulled out of Wendover, and it increased as we headed west on I-80, pushing 80.
Munching cookies, listening to the tunes, drinking coffee; fighting the wind and mesmerizing snow, the sky slowly opened up, and as we crossed the Pacific Time Zone line and gained an hour back on our youth, the sun started poking through the clouds and the snow stopped.
Up, up over a pass, to gaze out at five, six, eight snow-covered mountain ranges. Visibility had to be at least 100 miles.
As we sped on, the gathering fury of the sun warmed us as we hit the California border; burst across it and headed up I-5 towards home.
The storm had swept the sky clean, we could see Mount Shasta from 170 miles away, at Arbuckle.
All too soon we were stopped, 2400 miles after we started, and as I walked in the door my ears hummed with the sound of the tires and wind, and I wobbled slightly, still in motion, heading towards that receding horizon.
Next year, Dennis plans the trip.
Day 9 cookie count: 18 Trip Total: 109