Hayduke Day 48

Memories from November 20, 2018.

I woke up in the artificial blackness which is experienced when you pull your beanie down over your eyes and hide deep in your sleeping bag. After burrowing out of the mess I discovered a weak sunlight shining uniformly on everything it touched. This is different from most other mornings on the Hayduke where you have to wait for the sun to rise over the canyon rim or trees.

Getting direct sun quickly helped thaw my frozen water bottles.

In just a few miles of flat walking I was at the highway and hitched in to Colorado City. I was picked up by a nice fellow who was making a complicated offer to help take care of all my resupply needs when he interrupted himself and said that sometimes he means to help people but it doesn’t turn out that way. His reasoning for wanting to help me had to do with there being Mormons in Colorado City and asked if I knew about Mormons. He meant a particular cult, noted for it’s polygamy and insularity, which branched off the mainstream Mormonism which is practiced by several friends, neighbors, and coworkers of mine. With a few recommendations for hiking in Zion NP we parted ways at the gas station.

The mapping app on my phone guided me trough a few industrial blocks to a location which was definitely not the coffee shop where I was hoping to eat a second breakfast. However there was a large building nearby which said Dairy Store on its pitched roof. I wound up resupplying in the equivalent of a minimart if it were stocked by hipsters and staffed by women from 70+ years ago.

En route to a my next choice for a dining establishment I ran across the cafe I’d been looking for originally. Despite having passed a school with children in the yard dressed in formal, traditional clothing from a bygone era, the cafe was quite hipsterish with WiFi, overstuffed chairs, pumpkin spice waffles (delicious though not filling) and daycare themed decorations. As seemed to be happening in Escalante, it seems like there’s a younger generation moving out to small town America and putting down roots which contrast sharply against but ultimately integrate with the more traditional folks who would otherwise be left in a dying town.

With the assistance of a power outlet and my phone, I was able to locate a nearby hotel. Multiple inquiries with locals had not uncovered despite it being adjacent to the high school. From there the typical resupply pattern took hold and I toddled off to my first shower in over a week sick to my stomach with eggnog and waffles.

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