Wednesday, February 16, 2022

Peanut M&Ms Before Noon

 


Greetings from Panguitch, Utah, where Opus and I are riding out below-freezing temperatures and a probable snow storm on Day 10 of Beagle’s Winter Adventure. 

The original trip was going to be just four nights at Red Rock Canyon Campground outside of Las Vegas, and three nights out of Beagle, at the ultra-comfortable Chez C&K, to prepare for- and watch the Superbowl before returning home.  But plans change.

Red Rock Canyon Campground turned out to be a delightful winter stop, a BLM campground surrounded by slightly elevated and challenging hikes.  Opus and I hiked thirteen miles in three days, including a leg-buster up Turtlehead Peak which started at 4,000’ and climbed to over 6,000’ in a mere two miles.  It was grueling with plenty of places where I had to dig my fingers into the rock in order to hoist myself up and over.  (Opus, off leash for those spots, bounded up and down and up and down multiple times.)  The view from the top is not what I am used to from the Sierras (spoiled), so I just enjoyed the fact that I made it.  This was taken along the way up...



Then the aforementioned three nights at Chez C&K, where I placed my first “prop” bets, reveled in a Van Gogh immersion, and enjoyed time with family.
  After losing all my bets on the Superbowl, the ski slopes were calling me and, since I was so close to Brian Head, Utah, I thought about heading that way.  When C&K graciously offered to keep River, the trip became certain and even expanded –I had been worried about her arthritis in the freezing weather.  Plus, after three days at Chez C&K, she started to follow C around rather than me.  Terriers!

Excuse me for a minute while I watch the snow fall outside and change into my cashmere lounging sweater. 

Ahh, lovely.

Leaving Las Vegas, at the recommendation of a friend, I spent my first night at Snow Canyon State Park, just outside of St. George, Utah.  A lovely place with miles of trails (the most interesting of which are not dog friendly) and a strange campground.  I had booked Site #3, I think because it was the only one available, at least I hope that’s what the reason was because the site was horrendous.  Horrendous!  It sat so close to Site #4, it was worse than an RV park. 

So, firing up the Kitness, I ventured into the office to see about changing pitches.  The charming man behind the counter was eager to help and moved me to the much-preferred Site #25, the only neighbors being sage brush, red rocks and a couple of squirrels.  When Mr. Charming ended with a wink and, “I am in Site 18 if you should need anything at all...anything at all”, I thought maybe the Kitness was set a little too high.

We hiked that afternoon and again in the morning before starting the short-mileage but long-duration drive to North Campground in Bryce Canyon National Park.   We were heading into elevation over 7,000’, with nights down in the teens and, scariest of all, the rookie mistake of not arriving before 3:00 PM to a first come campground.  With first come sites, it’s best to be there around 12:01; three o’clock was foolish.  I was feeling nervous; I have my new batteries but they get squirrely when the temperature drops below 25, plus the late arrival, plus the altitude…I did what any self-respecting person would do, I phoned a friend—one on whom I can always count to place a vote for adventure and provide some good, logical advice.

That conversation was no different; I left it feeling excited and brave and ready for anything.

Arriving at North Campground a little after three o’clock, I was fortunate to have my pick of about ten pitches.  I chose Site #6, up on a hill (my favorite) with lots of sun shining down on my solar panels--which I knew my batteries would need were I to survive more than one night.

Unhitched, site registered, and Opus walked (I did break the rules and let him run off leash in the snow for a bit—dogs just love that so much), I drove out to some of the look-outs and gazed in wonder at the scene.  Pictures do not do it justice and I cannot believe I have never spent any time here before.  It being winter, there were very few people and I marveled at the crowd-control devices in place for the more popular overlooks (one-way walks, etc.); thankful that I was not visiting during the high season.




But what a first night!  My heater turned on at 5:00 PM when I entered Beagle and did not stop running (despite being set at only 40) all night long.  Well, no, it did stop at 3:30 AM when I discovered the system had turned itself off and was flashing an error code.  Did I mention it was 3:30 AM?  And around ten degrees outside?  With the thought that Beagle’s pipes could freeze in about ten minutes, I frantically Googled the error message and, after a couple of clicks, learned that the system had over-heated and needed to cool.  So I let it do it’s thing and after about fifteen minutes, it righted itself and started pumping out the heat again.

I did not get much sleep.

In the morning, my lovely lithium batteries had only lost 20% but were down to 50% (having started at 70% in case you didn’t want to do the math.)  I knew without a lot of solar generation, I would not make a second night but the day dawned bright and sunny so I left the solar charging, layered up, and headed out for a morning walk with Opus.  And what a delightful morning walk that was!  From the campground to Sunrise Point and over to Sunset Point, we got in four miles (a very fast four miles as it was well below freezing still) before arriving back at Beagle. 




My plan was to check everything at 3:00 PM then decide if I had enough battery power to go another night.  If it was at 60% or above 13.4 Amps, I would stay.

As I was making my second breakfast, the wind picked up and the sky filled with clouds—there went any hope of solar.  I turned on my inverter to make some toast and, despite my meter saying the batteries were at 49%, it started beeping an alarm and the monitor started freaking out.  (These are the exact words I texted to CH, my installer and ever-ready technical support, who by now can interpret “freaking out”—whether displayed on a machine or coming from me, quite easily.)  The monitor suddenly dropped to zero percent and less than 13 volts; there was no way I could ride out another night in the teens.  Even if I managed to get the batteries to charge more, the thought of that alarm going off at 3:00 AM was enough to start me packing.

I hitched up in the freezing wind as the first snow flakes began to pelt my face.  Opus had long since retired into his crate in the back of the warm car.  As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen his eyeballs in about three hours.  Dogs know what to do in a storm.

Just after leaving the park entrance, I broke open a bag of Peanut M&Ms, it was 11:48 AM.

And so we are down in Panguitch, Utah, at Henrie’s Hitch ‘N Post RV Park (yep) which, despite its location adjacent to Highway 89, is delightful.  I am plugged in, my monitor is no longer freaking out, the heater is blasting almost as hard as the wind is knocking Beagle around.  To keep life simple, I’ll stay here three nights and just day trip back up into Bryce (tomorrow) and then try my hand at skiing Brian Head on Friday.  Providing, of course, that this storm passes as it should.

At some point I do have to return for River--whether she likes it or not.

-K


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