Trapped in Another World!

Observation:
The reason this is updated so poorly today (and hasn't been updated very recently) is that I spent the entire day today playing Magic: The Gathering. For anyone who doesn't know, this was a rather fun and, dare I say, important activity for me through high school. I haven't played since then, except for some very casual games in the dorms once or twice. It was excellent to go back. It is as addictive as ever. My observation, though, concerns what I call the world of Magic. Yes, it has a fantasy setting, but no, that's not what I'm referring to. What I'm talking about is what occurs when you walk into a shop. An instant change sweeps over you. Females no longer exist, for one thing. It is all men. Correction: it is all overweight, rather unattractive men with too much time and or money on their hands, engaging in banter and name-calling. And it is awesome. If you're prepared for the environment and can jump in and shoot the bull with the guys, you can spend (as I found out) twelve hours in this world without noticing.
And another thing. The people haven't changed. It's the same core group of guys that was there when I stopped, they all still play similarly, and the hierarchy is undisturbed. Perhaps the most amusing thing was the fact that not even the music had changed. I don't know what radio station they have coming in, but it's the same song selection to the point that, while I don't like the songs (and actively dislike many of them), I know all the lyrics. I don't even realize I know all the lyrics until I catch myself anticipating the next line. It's crazy. And for that reason, the fact that I was sucked into another world (a la Alice, but a bit more voluntarily) I don't have a full-fledged post for you today. But I had a great time. My next post will talk about some more cycling stuff and will hopefully have the creative components I don't have the time or energy to include here. Thanks so much for bearing with me.

Me:
Saturday dawned, and we packed up the tent. The plan was to hike in the Needles area of Canyonlands and maybe go to Arches if there was time. However, it turns out that Canyonlands is awkwardly huge, and we were on the wrong side of it, making it way easier to go to Arches for the day. At the entrance we bought an annual pass for the national parks, knowing we would go through enough on this trip alone to make it worth the eighty dollars. We went straight to the northern end of the park and started hiking. We hit all the major arches, and I realized that these rock formations are much less interesting the third time you see them. I think it has something to do with the fact that they are so individual that you remember each of them perfectly, making revisiting something a bit droll. And there are only so many ways you can see them. The vantage points are the same every time, and as an obvious result, the view is identical to every photo ever taken of them. So while this park was one of my favorites, it has lost a bit of its magic.
We hiked the Devil's Garden trail and the Delicate Arch trail, drove through the sights around the southern end of the park, and realized that there wasn't really anything else to do while we were there. And Rebecca had looked up a swimming hole near Moab she wanted to go to, so after tracking down some allergy medication for some odd symptoms she was experiencing, we made our way to Mill Creek. As we were pulling in, so was an ambulance. And a firetruck. And some police cars. I was unsure that this was the place to be at the moment, but we were blocked in by the emergency vehicles, so we headed up the trail.  The path ran along the creek for a couple of miles before heading into the water. It was moving pretty fast, so we crossed and headed up a left fork (as was described by the internet as the way to the swimming area). Along the way we found a deeper, slow section, and Rebecca took full advantage to combat the heat. Eventually we pressed on a bit and found the spot we were looking for. I could keep writing, but it's probably easier to show this video of Rebecca jumping in (note that she is not the first person we see plummeting from above).

Unbeknownst to me, there were many people on top of the cliffs. Not wanting to go back up amongst the crowd, Rebecca decided we could go. I, having no interest in jumping or getting wet in general, thought that sounded fine. We made it back to the car and got some ice cream from a store that appeared on my phone as Kaleidoscoops. Unfortunately, that was not the name of the establishment when we arrived, but they did have ice cream, so we got some anyway, despite the disappointment brought on by the less-awesome name. We looked at a map for a while and departed, heading for the Needles District of Canyonlands, and more specifically, a campground just outside it called Hamburger Rock. It was a pretty long drive in, but luckily it was also a pretty, long drive in. The branching canyons and sunset-lit rock formations looked nice, and we were hoping vigorously that one of the six spots advertised at the campground would be open. So eager were we to find the campground that we drove past the entrance, turning instead into the Needles Outpost campground. This turned out perfectly, as things sometimes seem to for me. You see, we had really hoped to have our first campfire, but it turns out that particular dream required some firewood. Needles Outpost had some, making us happy, but still anxious to find the campground for which we had set out.
When we came to the park entrance we knew for sure we had gone too far. We turned around and drove back the way we had come, looking at the odometer to estimate where the turn should be. Of course, the turn was labeled from the other direction. It wasn't really our fault for missing it after all, since there wasn't any sign from the direction we had originally traveled. We made the turn, and when the pavement turned to gravel, I started apologizing to my car. It was worse than the normal washboard-style backroads usually encountered out west. There were huge rocks jutting up through the road's surface, threatening to rip out the underside of my car, and the disparity in elevations caused my vehicle to pitch and roll with every section.
Having made it to the campsites, we quickly ascertained that we were the first ones there. And since it was already getting dark, it seemed like we were destined to have it all to ourselves. Which was awesome at first. The campsites are situated inside rock formations, and it was beautiful. I made the fire (much to the surprise of my companion, who seemed to have some doubts as to my ability to accomplish this feat), and we ate some hotdogs and s'mores. It was at this point I made an excellent discovery. See, the chocolate "bars" we had taken along were no longer really worthy of the term. They were packets of liquid. After opening one and attempting to scoop the chocolate onto the mushy mass (and having it run all over everything in the process), I realized they could just be treated as giant condiment packets. I ripped the corner open and squeezed. Dare I say genius? It worked brilliantly, and we enjoyed quite a few delectable delights.

Then the fact that we were alone in the middle of nowhere set in. It didn't matter too much obviously, but I couldn't help having it run through my mind that were we to be beset by something (a bear? I don't know), we would have no help. If it's true there is safety in numbers, we were not very safe. So I slept a bit nervously. One idea I had was keeping the car key readily accessible so I could hit the alarm button in an attempt to scare away anything that seemed out of place. Of course, nothing like that happened the entire trip, but it reassured me to have a contingency plan (albeit an untested, perhaps ineffective one).