Day 6 (26-Sep-13) Capitol Reef NP - Arches NP (212 miles)

Having finally been allowed to escape the parallel universe created by Captain Sweatpants and Sheldon, I feel it is my duty to give a more accurate and factual account of today’s proceedings. I apologise for the lack of embellishment, exaggeration, twisting of facts and outright lies, used by my fellow travellers to draw you in to their world of fantasy - and my world of hurt. This may of course, make for less entertaining reading, however, it should provide you with a more balanced report of our trip.

Wake up call was at 06:00 hrs. As I have the pleasure of sharing a room with someone suffering a mild case of the flu, my roommate (also known as husband) nonetheless insisted on attempting to expel copious amounts of phlegm overnight, ensuring neither of us could have a decent nights’ sleep. An excellent start to the day!

Prior to commencing our drive down/up to Moab, we stopped off at a little European style café for a quick breakfast and obligatory wakeup cupper. As no points of major interest were to be encountered en route it was deemed most prudent to have a reliable, yet speedy, driver take control of today’s journey to Moab. I decided that should be me, rather than Captain Sweatpants (a.k.a. “Mother” when behind the wheel) or Sheldon (who really should never be behind any wheel of any vehicle).

Today we were scheduled to meet up with Dave and Kerri Nowowiejski, who were kind enough to make the trek across country from Houston to spend some time with us. Unfortunately, the planned Fiery Furnace tour would start prior to their arrival, which meant we would not be able to have our long overdue reunion until later that evening. This also meant trying to keep Simon safe from himself, and others from him, whilst attempting to enjoy a guided tour through the infamous labyrinth of the Fiery Furnace. A similar area in this region was made famous by Aaron Rolston, who had to cut off his forearm when struck by catastrophe.

To ensure we would reach the designated meeting point on time, we decided to “slowly” make our way through the park and already take in some of the scenic vistas we encountered en route. With Quentin also having visited this park on a previous occasion, we were treated to warnings such as “you’ll really like this one”, “I’m looking forward to the look on your face when you see the next one” and comments such as the obligatory “shot of the day!”. Thus enlightened, we reached our meeting point in good time, barely allowing us a quick restroom stop.

As the members of the group slowly gathered, it became clear that the term “arduous” used to describe the trek surely could not be correct. We found ourselves mixing with people made up of old, young, tall, short, fit and the not so fit. Simon immediately managed to bully some members of our group into conversation and we, as ever, felt obliged to provide a warning as to the risks involved in reciprocating with any hint of politeness - which is seen as weakness by the Interlocutor Troll. However, for some reason, our warnings continue to fall on deaf ears,  possibly because our interjections come too late, with victim's hearing already irreperably damaged. Indeed, some people even seemed happy to talk to Simon. However, it is not until you get to see the blank, startled-deer, look in their eyes that you realise all is not well, and that a means of escape should be provided.

Our tour guide for the day, Ranger Amanda provided a brief description of what was to be expected, and once everyone was aware those taking part would be responsible for themselves, and any children they brought with them, we descended into the canyon. Although constant attention was required to ensure a safe descent, the trek proved to be quite easy, with frequent stops along to the way to provide Ranger Amanda the opportunity to educate us on canyon history, and its flaura and fauna. Three hours after setting off we emerged with all members of the group present and accounted for, and each making a hasty retreat to the safety of their vehicles, out of earshot from Simon. The only person we’d been able to spare the harangue of the Interlocutor Troll was our guide, but that was only after convincing Simon she was vital to our survival, and should therefore not be distracted by, or engaged in, conversation.

As the sun was not its usual self during the afternoon, we were spared the sweltering temperatures that normally prevail in these canyons during this time of year. Therefore, although we felt we should reward ourselves with a post-exercise drink, our retreat from the park was marked by more stops at various scenic points. Once back in Moab we checked in to our hotel, and after reaching Dave and Kerri, made arrangements for the evenings’ entertainment. Simon discovered that Moab would be hosting a “Gay Pride” party at the weekend, so was eager to sample what the town has to offer on special occasions such as this. He therefore decided he should meet in our “local”. I shall not go in to the details of the state Simon was in when we eventually met him in said local. Suffice to say he has now added the addresses of various biker dudes to his Black Book.

We finally met Dave and Kerri on the way to the restaurant, and following warm felt hugs all around, and introductions to (and some quietly whispered warnings about) Simon, we dived in to our old habit of eating and merry drinking.