Day Seven: ZACK BURNS:FOREVER UNCLEAN
After dinner last night (I caved, lil smokies & veggieson the grill) we collectively decided that it was time as a family to getclean. We sat down to do some hygiene math.
The pay showers cost $2.00 in quarters for fifteen minutes. We had four dollars in quarters among the four of us. It was decided that Petey and I would tag team one shower. We woke up Evan to tell him that he got a whole fifteen minutes and eight quarters to himself. Zack was going to stay back and luxuriate in the shoebox sized RV shower. He reasoned that one person showering would have enough hot water.
“Before we leave this site, I’ll empty the gray water. Itshouldn’t be full, we haven’t used much since I last dumped it.”
In RV speak, the gray water is the water from the showersand sinks and should not have mixed with the sewage water. In theory. It shouldbe shower, dishes, and tooth brushing water.
The three of us set out for the public showers. Petey put the quarters in and went first, while I waited between the shower curtain and the privacy curtain in the tiny changing area. I didn’t have a lot of hope that this would work, since having two people shower in fifteen minutes is an exercise in efficiency that is probably beyond us. Unexpectedly, four and a half minutes later Petey came bursting out of the shower. I’ve never been so happy to see those tiny buttcheeks.
Once we had all scrubbed the memory of the Walter White Parkoff of ourselves we trooped the half mile uphill to the RV, mindful to watchout for centipedes. We clambered in to find Zack sitting at the broken crookedkitchen table, staring off into the distance and paler than usual.
“It just…..it filled with water…..ankle deep. Ankle deepdirty water and there was nothing I could do about it.” He turned on the kids. “You’vebeen leaving the water running while you brush your teeth and it filled thetank. And then I stood in it. I stood in your leftover tooth water.”
I took the same lecture about leaving the water running while I did dishes. (Hot dog water, Courtney. HOT DOG WATER AND COFFEE GROUNDS.)
After he calmed down, I couldn’t help but say it.
Zack Burns: FOREVER UNCLEAN.
We went to bed for the night after another rousing game ofBurns Rummy. We had one extra dose of Benadryl left, which Zack heroically letme take for my first night’s sleep this trip. While I blissfully slept a windstorm kicked up outside, leading Zack to discover that the skylight above ourbed is actually only covered by old duct tape which repeatedly lifted and loweredin the wind. Zack spent most of the night waiting to see if something wouldcrawl through the open hole or not.
Later on, back at the lake, Petey and I waded out in the freezing water while Zack and Evan played catch on the sand. We were joined in the water by a young German couple who made out wildly, oblivious to all of the children. Petey countered by performing her entire hip hop routine approximately eight inches away from them. It must’ve broken the mood because they left just as she launched into this year’s competition solo.
We had a 3:30 tour of Upper Antelope Canyon scheduled which required a 3:00 check in at the store in downtown Page. The young kid at the campground store assured us that a shuttle left for town every hour and the Safeway they dropped off at would be an easy walk to where we had to check in. According to the schedule provided, getting on the 1:00 shuttle would land us in front of the Safeway at 1:35 leaving us plenty of time to explore downtown Page which the internet describes as both quaint and historic.
We settled down at the RV campground pickup location at 12:50. At 1:05 a small bus pulled up and we got on. Climbing in we were faced with an entire bus of young men wearing matching blue Team Lake Powell shirts. The driver looked at us quizzically, then told us that we actually wanted to be picked up at the Resort, which is about a mile away, but if we waited for him to drop off the team he would take us to the resort.
In the twenty minutes we spent on that bus we learned thatTeam Lake Powell is also German. We have no idea what they are competing in orwhy they are here, but they were pleasant enough and all got off the bus at themarina. They driver left us in front ofthe resort at 1:25 with another pamphlet explaining the shuttles and thepromise that the shuttle to town would be there at 2.
At 2:15 there was no shuttle in sight and my feet weresweating like we were in a horror movie at the thought of missing our tour soclose on the heels of the Mesa Verde disaster. Sick of watching me pace around,Zack told me to just call the number on the pamphlet. The operator was surprisedto hear the shuttle was late and swore it would be along soon.
Ten minutes later a van rumbled up, driven by a tiny womanin a giant safari hat. We climbed in as she shoved piles of trash from thefloor next to her into the passenger’s seat. Hearing we were worrying aboutmissing a tour, she vowed to get us there…..although there was no explanationas to why she was so late.
That tiny woman straightened her hat, cranked up Jump Aroundby House of Pain, and squealed out of that parking lot. Every time sheencountered a car she erupted in yelling and honking until they got out of theway.
We arrived at check in a 2:40. Somehow.
“You have time to get a snack!” she yelled out the window atus.
We asked if she would be back at 5:35 as the brochure saidand she gave us a thumbs up that felt like an empty promise.
Arriving at the tour check in we discovered people everywhere. It was a tiny United Nationswith tourists crowded in and screaming at each other in different languages. Istudied the rules on the wall in an attempt to not make eye contact withanyone. Every time we’ve been on Navajo land this trip there have been rulesposted about scattering ashes. Apparently people really want to scatter theashes of their loved ones out here and the Navajo really do not want them to dothat, threatening fines, an escort out, and a lifetime ban. Antelope Canyonfelt just as strongly about the remains of our dead, but also had a surprisingsign forbidding the taking of nudes in the canyon. Taking nudes would result inan escort out, fines, and confiscation of your camera.
I have some questions. A lot of them actually.
I mean, rules don’t become rules until someone does somethingstupid requiring the rule. And I would assume that for a rule to publiclyposted it must be something that happened routinely enough to be posted. Who isout taking nudes in Antelope Canyon?
Furthermore, you cannot enter the Canyon without an escortfrom the tribe. The guide takes no less than ten people with him and there area minimum of a dozen guides out there at a time. Who is out taking nudes inAntelope Canyon with a herd of spectators?
Eventually we were all herded onto terrifying open airtrucks and driven down a dry river bed to the entrance of the canyon.
The canyon is majestic; pictures don’t do it justice. Ourguide was awesome, a photography buff who clued us in on how to set up lightingwhen he wasn’t trying to teach Petey phrases in Dine, the Navajo language. Theonly thing keeping it from being perfect was the literal swarm of people. Think about trying to squeeze through anarrow hallow. Now picture it with the average size crowd of tourists trying tocross a street on the Vegas Strip.
Between that and the steady stream of sand being poured onus from the canyon opening, I am also now forever unclean.
Realizing that downtown Page is neither quaint nor historic, we headed straight for our pick up spot in front of the Safeway once the tour was over. Walking up to the store we saw that two distinct camps had formed out front. Roughly one hundred senior citizens wearing Happy Trails nametags milled about on the right side. The entire Page, Arizona homeless population camped out on the picnic tables to the left. Not wanting to pick a side in this bizarre West Side Story, we took the middle and debated if the shuttle would show up.
While we stood there watching the Happy Trails folks loadtheir bus it began to rain. The rain was a nice break from the oppressive heat,until we remembered our fake duct tape skylight flapping in the breeze aboveour only place to sleep.
At 6 we gave up hope on the shuttle driver and called for acab. The rain let up as we straggled back to the RV so I could make dinneragain. Hamburgers! Again!
Tomorrow we are off to Sandy Hollow, Utah for the last legof this little trip. There’s no need to mourn this trip coming to a close,because it is looking like we will have a battle with the Irishman that willsurely provide a few more weeks of fodder.
I’m ready to get out of Page. It’s hot and there have beenzero dogs to pet since we’ve arrived. We are nostalgic about the friendlierlands in Kingman and Prescott. In the meantime, we will hope that thethunderstorms that are forecasted for tonight are actually a joke.
Fingers crossed!
Number of dogs pet so far: 17 & 1 desert tortoise &1 office cat