I speak with a Forest Service employee today about folks having campfires here, with the fire risk so very high. Alas, there are no regulations so far limiting fires at campsites. This gorgeous canyon could be literally wiped out by one errant spark. A few campers have had large fires burning here at Sunny Flat, and I have gone nuts watching--wondering what kind of folks would even think of starting a fire in any place this tinder dry. The employee said that the regs emanate from Tucson and to please call that office--they apparently listen more to visitors than to employees. I will call--it's a definite concern. Actually, the first move toward regulation would mean only that out-of-campground fires would be curtailed, not others. This is more than insane--it's negligent and criminal.

At home I do a load of laundry in the bucket outside and manage to stick the back of one finger with the tip of a yucca plant. The blood spurting upward is simply amazing. Not such a smart thing to do! Anyhow, the old bucket method works well, and the hot breeze has stuff dry in no time.

On Tuesday we start thinking of leaving the following day and of the need to be getting ready. Our black water tank is full, so it's off to the vault toilet for us now. We start out, though, by taking a walk near Sunny Flat, just to reminisce. We hear the bark of a Trogan coming closer, decide to hang near, eventually see the male on a tall tree, then the female fly in his direction, and together they fly into a side canyon. We go up Cave Creek Road to the bridge, find beautiful Painted Redstarts and say 'bye to them.

It is hard to describe how satisfying these two weeks have been. There is a serenity here, a quietness, a certain respect from campers for the beauty of the canyon. Only once did we hear a generator in the evening. It has been just blissfully quiet. No barking dogs, no loud kids. This is a fantastic place to look at the sky, as well--there simply are no distracting lights in the canyon.

Wed., May 20. In early afternoon we set out for Rusty's Trailer Park just outside Rodeo. We are officially on our way home to MT. The sky is gray--there will be more needed rain. Rusty is accommodating and lively, and her place is fairly new, it has WiFi, it's clean with clean laundry, comfortable, well thought-out, with spacious sites. Her gardens are gorgeous and there is a "duck pond" on the premises. We stay for only one night. We look for some groceries nearby--believe it or not, there is a "natural foods" store a couple miles down the road, right out in the middle of absolutely nothing--but we arrive ten minutes after its closing. No bread for Charley in Rodeo. Oh well.

Thurs., May 21- Sat., May 23. As we leave Rusty's we see on the road ahead a lively Roadrunner and a Scaled Quail with a little white topknot on its head. We so often have special "greeter" and "bye" birds. We drive many miles to Lyman Lake St. Pk. in AZ--up and down and around many mountains--from desert to grass and pinion to tall pine of the Apache Nat'l. Forest. We're close to the AZ-NM border for miles. On the way we make time for connecting to a Kalispell store to order a washer and dryer. We seldom have cell phone availability so have to stop at certain spots. Tammie had done great footwork for us so negotiations were easier. We continue to look for a grocery store but they are evading us. Little towns are showing signs of serious deterioration--but these folks have to eat. Cafes most often look like they're doing an okay business, though.

We slow down as we encounter some jaw-jarring roads--much patchwork, at best. For miles we're on two-lane roads where is no shoulder, no place to pull off, substantial traffic. Much noise inside the mh as contents bounce time after time. A good many miles we go through Navajo land. It is not unusual for sheep to stroll across the road. The sheep are drinking water from the bump strips by the roadside. (Later on we encounter another group crossing--a fair- size group of sheep, goats and small puppies, all looking very much like a family).

Lyman campground is lightly used, it seems--it even advertises weekly and monthly rates. We select a pull-through, take a short bike ride, watch the sky turn jet black, listen to rain on our roof once again. In this area we finally see Cassin's Finches. We also get to observe a substantial packrat's nest on our engine block! It's made of insulation--who knows which part of the car it's from. (A day later, we purchase windshield fluid since our reservoir was empty--and it poured right out again. Hmmm, we think, might our rat "friend" has severed that hose??)

We stop at the town of Chinle for gassing up ($2.60)--and we see a food store on the opposite side of the street. What a snarl we get into in a crowded and congested parking lot with a big rig, poles to dodge, endless lines of cars trying to get out, no traffic light to help--and we have to cross the hwy. against traffic--in the rain. It takes a while. I notice a difference in pace in Chinle--it's slower, no one cares if someone's cart is parked in the middle of the aisle. But that traffic looks pretty aggressive! Early hubbub on a holiday weekend??

Next camping spot is just north of Blanding, UT--Devil's Campground (NFS) which we had enjoyed another year. Our "welcome bird" is a gorgeous Varied Bunting singing on top of a nearby tree. How many thanks-yous have I said on this long trip? I foter some juniper branches with raindrops, some small flowers.

We enter Moab Saturday AM and it is bustling with people, Jeepers, bikers, arts and crafts exhibits. How this town has grown in two years. More development-- mainly motels; a couple look too fancy for Moab's ambiance. Along the Colorado River (that is quite full and climbing up the trees on its banks) there have been built many more tenting sites and a few needed turn-offs--good improvements--as well as a new bike path from town a couple miles up the river--yes!!

Had to laugh about the street names in the tiny town of Mack, where we turn off I-40. Names like 10 1/2, 0, and 0 1/2! We continue chugging up this mountainous road to Vernal and up 191 some more (not so far from Flaming Gorge) to the top of a hill (mountain?)--it's about 8000'--and this small parking lot is our home for the night. Farther on up a good dirt road are many dispersed camping sites, and they seem pretty full. Our welcome birds are Brewer's Blackbirds.

Sunday AM dawns terribly gloomy, temp in low 40s, fog and tremendous rain pouring down. We get soggy getting bikes into the mh. Good luck to those thousands of folks camping out in dirt (mud) road wooded areas. As we pass through Flaming Gorge, this is the first time we see no police cars at the dam.

Gas up in Rock Springs, arrive in Pinedale just after noon. Park the mh in town, drive to Fremont Lake and find a good site (that will belong to camp hosts in a couple days.) This spot seems to have been Moose Manor--they have left us many treasures, probably a whole winter's worth! Our "greeting" here is a sudden volley of small caliber gunshots quite near us. Shouting and cars dashing about. We are delayed a bit as the NF attendant (not an enforcement person) investigates--and we hear that the culprit received (only) a citation. Campground hosts are keeping mum on this one. On a better note, our bird greeting is from a family of Flickers who have a nest in a nearby snag. Our car is a cake of mud, and after a vigorous cleansing we visit family and eventually go out for pizza.

The AM walk Charlie and I take around this beautiful Fremont Lake campground is so refreshing. The quakies are showing new spring growth, the foliage is cleansed by numerous rains. Birds are singing everywhere, and we see Clark's Nutcrackers, Green-tailed Towhees, Yellow and MacGillivray's Warblers, Sapsuckers, Hammond's Flycatcher more. After another visit with the family we drive up to Elkhart Park, a noted launching spot for hikers, elevation about 10,000'. The top stretch had snow on the road and we had to turn around.

Tues., May 26. One more stroll about Fremont campground to see the birds; the day is clear. En route to Jackson we watch the Hobak River rushing in its springtime race, creating many wetlands by its side. The sun shines on the Tetons' snow--my pics are being taken from the mh. In Teton Nat'l. Pk. We run into road repairs, piles of traffic backed up. In Yellowstone there is much snow up near the Continental Divide--around 7900'. Most pull-offs are not yet cleared, so our planned lunch at Lewis Lake is cancelled. The geysers seem to attract numerous people, as do the critters. We experience a bear jam and a buffalo jam. Buffalo calves have been born recently and are very frisky.

We stay the night at Baker's Hole, a NFS site a few miles north of W. Yellowstone, a place we remember being less than exceptional. This time we are impressed with the sites, and (surprise, surprise for the FS) there are now a number of electric sites. A branch of the Madison River runs through, and as we walk along it we both see flowers we need to foter. Charlie promises me that he'll help me stand again, and I lay on my belly with camera, soon finding C close-by doing the same thing. So fun.

Wed., May 27. Our AM bird is a Sandhill Crane flying across the river. We watch Cliff Swallows and Yellow Warblers near river's edge. Today's journey takes us past Hegben Lake where there is a large congregation of White Pelicans. Only one Bald Eagle this time. It could not be a nicer day to cross beautiful Montana. The rivers flow high, fields become ever greener, some with carpets of bright dandelions. I'm wishing I could take pics out the windows as we go by but bug splats obscure the scenery. Fire danger LOW! The wind picks up later in the day, always making driving more tiring for Charlie. At Clearwater Junction we make use of a trailer dump and soon find ourselves in our favorite site at Harper's Lake fishing access up Rt. 83.

Even on a non-perfect day the view from our mh would be fantastic but today there is not a more beautiful sight than the Blackfoot River rushing by just below us and the series of green hills and pastures beyond. We walk into the woods and willows and down to little Harper's Lake where Charlie sees a male Hooded Merganser. We realize how terribly fortunate we are--and are feeling more than a bit sad that this spring journey is finally coming to its end.

On Thursday we take one more walk around to see the birds and foter more flowers--then turn our thoughts toward home in Whitefish.