Dating in the dark deanne
The decrepit, fifteen year old Chevy flatbed stake truck I’d been using to haul the company’s rafting gear to and from various wilderness rivers, in various Western states, had left me stranded on the dirt washboard road from the takeout at Clay Hills Crossing, on Lake Powell, for two full sweltering July days, until someone back in Durango decided that maybe there was some problem, and they should look for me, since I was 48 hours overdue.
I’ve been feeling proud of myself for not reaching down and touching De Anne’s slightly sun-burned face, or stroking her auburn mane of hair. The jacket has a beautiful, hand-embroidered butterfly on the back.
I explain that Mike, the owner of our company, will cover the cost of one room, but usually expects us guides to bunk up together, to save money.
The motel owner in Monticello, a good friend of Mike’s, is cool with us guides crashing four or five to a room, as long as we don’t raise hell.
I have learned not to take my eyes off the road for too long in this area, because the tourists driving their huge rented recreational vehicles are notoriously bad drivers, having no real grasp of the dimensions of their air-conditioned rolling mansions, and will routinely drift over the center line, anxious that their right side wheels are going to slide into the soft red sand at the pavement’s edge and they’ll roll their rig.
They prefer instead to hog part of the southbound lane I’m cruising down.
I am very tired too, but I coffee’d up in Green River, and wolfed down a green chile cheeseburger at our favorite cafe, and feel perked up, for the moment at least.
What’s Your Passion Wednesday – One characteristic of autism is to show incredibly focused passion for topics of interest. Sensory Friendly Friday – Autistic people often have a variety of sensory sensitivities. If you’re wondering what these “SBKM play sets” that I refer to are, watch this space!
I do not want us to be part of the carnage, so I’ve slowed down to 40 miles per hour, to enjoy the view of some of the finest desert scenery in the American Southwest.
I have also been working hard not to be distracted by De Anne, the great-looking young 19 year old college student from eastern Colorado, who is asleep and snoring cutely, stretched out on the bench seat of the two year old Ford cargo truck that our river company owners recently bought.
The tourists that swarm to Arches in summer can do the damnedest things, like suddenly entering the road near blind corners, or making slow U-turns behind rises in the highway that make them impossible to see, until some unfortunate comes flying over the rise and obliterates both vehicles so completely that no recognizable vehicle remains, only a debris field of metal and plastic and human remains that the highway department crew out of Moab will come out at all hours to clean up, picking up the body parts with a snow shovel.
I love this area of Utah but detest driving this stretch of highway at dusk, when visibility is fading, but before many drivers have turned on their lights.