I read this interview with Conrad Anker, and in it he described the three types of fun. Type I fun is something that’s fun to do and fun to talk about afterward, like going to the movies. Type III is fun while you’re doing it but not afterward, like drinking too much and having a hangover the next day.
Type II fun is when you’re not having any fun while you’re doing it, though it’s fun afterward.
Most of our day was Type I fun. The Type II part (which is what I call an “adventure”) didn’t begin until the evening. Ready?
After taking in all those stunning views of Valley of the Gods and driving the Moki Dugway, we took a series of back roads north towards Blanding. It really is beautiful area, southeastern Utah. As we’re heading back towards Blanding, we passed this dirt road and Michael hit the brakes. “I bet there’s something awesome down there,” he said.
And there was. The road went on for a while – getting narrower and with low overhanging tree branches, making us concerned for the bikes on the topper – before ending at a big campsite with a huge fire ring… and a trail that went up the hillside. To this:
It only took us about 30 minutes to hike up there, and Michael got some awesome pictures with his phone.
Stalagmites and dripping water sounds… it was amazing up there.
Coming back down this easy dirt road, we saw a turnoff I’d missed earlier. Clearly labeled by the BLM, the stake on the side of the road said “more difficult.” The road was also clearly labeled on my map, and it rejoined a big dirt road in what looked like about 4-5 miles. Well, what the hell, right? We’ve got 4-wheel drive. (Famous last words, I know). So we made the turn. Because in the beginning, the road wasn’t bad.
But it gradually got worse.
You can’t see it in this picture, but there’s actually a nice, steep dropoff to one side.
Still, Michael didn’t seem worried, so I wasn’t worried. OK, I wasn’t outwardly worried. Michael grew up in Arkansas, he used to own a Jeep. (CJ series and everything!), and he loves this kind of thing. I’m a suburbia kid, and as we all know suburbia kids are worthless. But that’s another story.
The trail continued to get rougher. Eventually we came across two guys on ATVs who were coming down the trail. They pulled over for us, so I asked them how much further until the trail rejoined the dirt road.
These guys were dressed for the occasion – no helmets, body armor, sturdy boots, and handguns. Yep, both of these guys were doing the whole “open carry” thing. They looked at us like we were the biggest idiots on the planet, and politely suggested we turn around.
It was only a couple more miles until the trail rejoined the dirt road, they said, but the trail got considerably worse over those two miles. Plus, remember that steep dropoff on one side of the trail? One of the guys said there were two cars at the bottom of that dropoff. And one of them was pretty recent.
We turned around. They helped, since we were on such a narrow spot.
Well, now, we joked. That was an adventure. Singed a bit?
But the real Type II fun was still to come. We took our time getting back to Moab, arriving around 6pm or so. Still a coupe hours of daylight left. But it was 6pm on a Saturday. In Moab. Every restaurant had a huge line. We knew if we stood in that line at Milt’s we’d be there until dark. So we headed over to the grocery store. Slim pickins there. But we did the best we could and started out looking for a campsite.
We headed to a specific area, one Michael said should be empty. A local once told him nobody uses this area.
It was full. Every site was full. And those people we passed, setting up their tents or drinking in their camp chairs gave us this wave accompanied by a smug smile that said You should have got here sooner. Shit. Anxiety was rising as the sun went down. We kept looking, grimly considering our options. Keep in mind that neither one of us had eaten since… oh, maybe noon. Now it was going on 8pm. Our best bet was to get farther away from Moab. There are dozens of dirt roads on BLM land out there, and we’d just have to find one we could set up shop on. In the dark.
But then, we found a site. At least I think it was a site. It had a fire ring and it was pretty level. It wasn’t right on top of anyone else. Good enough. We set up the tent in the dark. We had cold food for dinner – when you’re that hungry, hard-boiled eggs and Lara bars are delicious – and I climbed up into the tent. I was done.
What Conrad Anker calls Type II fun, I call adventure. See, adventures are not fun while they are happening. But you get these great stories to tell later. And Michael and I will always be able to tell the story of Searching For A Campsite In The Dark On A Saturday Night In Moab.
Moral of the story – we should have just stayed in the kick-ass campsite under the cave.