So we went down to the wilds of Sanpete County and camped a bit. Well, it seems that a huge amount of Utah's population did the same thing. On our treks for firewood, there were whole communities of trailers and fifth wheels and all kinds of recreational homes parked among the aspens in all directions and not just among the paid sites provided by the US Forest Service that we took advantage of. There was a veritable city among the trees, each site with its own campfire this Pioneer Day weekend. And each campfire was attended by at least two or three ATVs. ATVs are the bane of regular campers. They mostly ignore posted speed limits and each one coats the camp with an additional layer of dust. The forest on each side of every dirt track road is coated with many layers of photosynthesis-blocking dust for ten yards on both sides.
Okay, here is a new one in my experience. Joe and I went fishing down Gooseberry Creek. We played our flies and got nada. We went back to camp to find that the Squidbillies had moved in next door. All of the adults of the troop were trashed and there were beers aplenty to be thrown in the lake. Apparently there were children aplenty to be thrown in the lake, too, because that is exactly what happened. The boyfriend of one of the Squidbilly daughters threw her two-year-old son, from some other father, into the lake. The kid folded up like a lawn chair and started to sink until the toothless grandmother plowed into the lake to save the sinking child. Of course the girlfriend and her sister dutifully beat the boyfriend with fists and fishing poles and called all kinds of names. The drunk boyfriend just kept saying that he wanted an answer. Answer to what the fuck?
Was it an answer from God? Was it an answer from the Lady of the Lake? What was the answer he was seeking? Was there more beer back at camp? Does God want him to throw more infants into lakes? Even drunken Grandpa just sat there with his fishing pole until the consensus among the Squidbillies was to abandon their position on the lake and return to camp, dunked kidlet in tow. The drunk boyfriend was left to walk up the road without them enduring the dust of passing vehicles and ATVs until he reached the keg of camp.
The uncle of the tossed child did approach me and offer an apology for the drama that we all got to witness. He said that this boyfriend of his sisters only had made his acquaintence that weekend and they did not know anything about him. I advised him that the child might have fluid in the lungs and needed to be seen at an emergency room. Well, Joe ran into one of them up in the trees when he was up gathering water at the cistern tap above Gooseberry Lake. TRASHED! Trashed! trashed! I hope the kid survives, but if the kid does not survive, it will be a grand example of Social Darwinism. Parents too fucking stoooopid to have kids. Poor little guy!
Okay, well back home now. Old Ulysses made some messes, but I have them all cleaned up now. Waiting for a monsoon storm to cross the valley. XOXO