I awoke the following morning to Patt unzipping the inner portion of our tent, sticking her head in, looking around and pulling back out. “What’s up?”, I asked groggily. “Our clothing bag including the camera has been stolen.” “What?!” I exclaimed. “How did that happen?” “I don’t know.” she replied with some distress. “I am sure I locked the car last night, but it’s gone.”

This news brought us back to the reality of humanity, the fact that there will always be some bad eggs out there. I felt especially bad for Patt. She had recently purchased this camera and it was a nice digital with a high quality lens. One of my bigger concerns during our travels is the possibility of the computer, camera, wallet, etc. being stolen. I immediately checked for the computer, knowing that it had been out the previous evening while we were sitting round the campfire. Fortunately, noone had tampered with our items.

We were not the only victims. The thief had apparently scoped out several campsites since others were complaining of their losses as well. Patt and Bob located their bag and the clothes within, but the camera was nowhere to be found. I felt especially bad for them since they had only the previous day decided to stay an extra night at the camp.

This disturbance had been the first reminder since beginning our travels that the human animal is often the most destructive. Patt and Bob left quickly, an otherwise grand adventure now marred by the selfishness of another.

The kids and I proceeded to pack for our last leg of the journey. Our destinations today were Fort Laramie National Historic Site and ultimately, Dinosaur National Monument. We were closing down on the end of our maiden voyage and were anxious to get back into Utah.

Fort Laramie was another surprise to me. I had grown accustomed to thinking all forts were defensive forts and was surprised to see the open arrangement of the fort. Their Junior Ranger program contained a treasure hunt, a good way to methodically take us through the fort. The walk around the barracks, stockade and various officer houses casted a more genteel appearance to life at the fort. Of course, the bachelor officers barracks I imagine were fairly rowdy most of the time. The difficulty always in viewing relics is the inability to truly see, smell and hear the daily activities of a place.

The kids completed their program and we proceeded through Wyoming to Green River. Expedition Island, the launching site of Major John Welsley Powell’s voyage down the Green and Colorado Rivers was a welcome stop and a great point of reference for the kids by tying Green River, Wyoming to Green River, Utah and later the Colorado River.

A small park with fountains in which the kids could play was near the island so the kids had a few minutes to blow off steam and race through the chasing geysers. I wanted to get to Dinosaur National Monument before dark, so I hustled the kids into the van and off we went.

We had just crossed into Utah, leaving the small town of Manila when a minor disaster struck or I should say, we struck it. As Kira likes to describe it, two deer decided to stand their ground in the middle of the highway. I spotted them too late and a sickening lurch and crunch signaled our personal opening to deer season. I was mortified and the kids naturally upset. I envisioned therapy session #47...”and then there was the time Mom killed Bambi AND her mother”. As I apologized profusely to the kids, I pulled off to the side and surveyed the damage.

As the saying goes, it turned out much better for us than it did for the deer. A doe and her fawn were the victims. I proceeded to drag them off the road in order to prevent further harm coming to any other motorists. I tried to convince myself the dent was not so large whiile I wandered back down the highway to pick up the various ornaments which had dislodged from the front of the van.

While pondering my next move and berating myself for looking right and not left when the deer made their fatal decision, a local sheriff pulled up. He was very pleasant. The doe was, unfortunately, still alive and I asked him to put her out of her misery. I pulled the van forward to hopefully make the whole bloody scene less traumatic for the kids. Good luck at this point.

The van was drivable and after filling out an accident report, the sheriff agreed to follow me for about thirty miles. I stopped once to find out what the two new warning lights now lit on the dash meant and decided that they were connected to the two now disconnected wires at the van’s left nostril. I looked into my owner’s manual and decided they were not of immediate concern. Because of the delay, the mountain was now dark. Somewhat shaken, my nervousness was enhanced by extra glowing lights on the dash plus three cows, two deer and one elk crossing the mountain road as I headed for Vernal, Utah.

Of course, calling Steve about this latest incident was a barrel of monkeys. I had told him only a couple of days previous that the windshield now sported a top-to-bottom crack due to being hit by a large rock. The deer snot now unceremoniously spread across the hood and side view mirror along with the large dent were added enhancements.

A hotel was probably a more sensible option but why stop while you are on a roll. Something inside of me wanted to push on to the campground at Dinosaur instead. I pulled into the campsite after 10pm. Not having the heart to wake the kids, I proceeded to set up our tent myself.

For some inexplicable reason, I had decided to wear a casual skirt that day, so setting up the tent in a skirt with no additional help acquired a Keystone Cop absurdity. I was happy for the cover of darkness in order that people could not witness my subsequent Charlie Chaplinesque flailing with the tent.

Miraculously at about midnight, the camp was neatly arranged. I awoke the kids long enough to settle them back into their sleeping bag, thinking of Scarlett O’Hara and deciding that all of my good fortune could be better considered tomorrow.