LLV Day Three, Part II: Limping to the End

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Just when it seemed that we were doomed to spend the night in Beaver, some of my relatives came to the rescue. (Not that I have anything against Beaver, it just wasn’t exactly in our plans, you know?) My Uncle Scott and my cousin Boyd offered to come down from Park City to pick us up. So we figured between two crew cab trucks and a van, we should be able to get everyone (and the luggage for 17 people) up to the rented house.

This meant that we would have to find somewhere to hang out for at least three hours more. Boyd was running a little later, so some of the group wouldn’t be able to leave for four hours. So according to our newly established tradition, we located a little city park and began the shuttle process. This time was a little different though, since we first had to unload EVERYTHING from the motor home and take it with us. When my turn came to get dropped off at the park, I was greeted by a huge pile of suitcases, play yards, blankets, bags of food, etc. under a large pine tree. Terence was sitting in a lawn chair holding a very patient K, while some of the kids were playing on the playground. (In a strange way it reminded me of going to YW Girls’ Camp back in the day, when we’d arrive at the departure spot and just dump all our bags in one big pile before wandering off.) There was a quilt spread out on the grass, so I headed directly for it and sprawled onto the ground.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” cautioned Terence. He then explained that there were gigantic red ants swarming in the grass even if I couldn’t see them. For those of you that know Terence, you know he loves to try to pull the wool over your eyes, so for a moment I was tempted to ignore him.

“Look, you can see them on the tree,” he pointed out. My eyes followed his gesture to the tree, and sure enough, the tree trunk was covered in lines of vicious-looking ants. So much for resting on the grass.

It was an eternal three hours.

We ate dinner, trying to eat as much of my mother’s store of perishables as possible. Nothing was going to survive much longer; even though we tried to eat as much BBQ beef and pulled pork as possible, some of the food still had to be thrown out. The good part was that some of the candy prizes for Saturday night’s bingo game were starting to melt so we had an excuse to eat peanut butter cups and chocolate-covered toffee. Mmmm! Our wait was enlivened a little bit by a visit from a backpacking drifter who had just hitchhiked from Zion NP. He thought we were having a yard sale. Too bad I didn’t have anything I wanted to get rid of. At least we could have made some money to help pay for the unexpected motel costs. (Though where in the world was he planning to put anything? On his back????)

A little more excitement came with B’s accident. This park still had one of those old merry-go-rounds, the kind that have long since disappeared from anywhere else (surely because of lawsuits.) It was pretty much the main focus of the kids, since they had never ridden on one before. However, B managed to fall off and get her head whacked by the merry-go-round while Terence, of all people, was spinning the thing. I spent the next hour with B’s head cradled in front of me on a pillow of ice. She had a mammoth bump on the back of her head and road rash down her legs. Just a little more fun to add to the mix. . . .

At last Uncle Scott arrived, heralding the end of my stay in Beaver. First, we took some of the group back to the Comfort Inn to wait for Boyd. My dad had volunteered to spend the night alone in Beaver and drive up the replacement motor home the next day, so they were going to camp out in his room for an hour. My luck was to go with the babies in the truck this time, so I left in the very first wave. The drive to Park City was long crammed between two car seats, but the babies slept almost the whole way so it was actually quite refreshing. We reached Park City about 11 pm and found the rental house with no trouble.

I have never been so glad to reach a place in my life. (Well, except that time we reached Las Vegas after a five hour ride in the front of a tow truck—but that’s a different Beaver story. Beaver is bad luck for me!!!)

We were so relieved that the ordeal was finally over. Amy and I explored the house and found that it was four stories, with the bedrooms on the bottom two stories. Since the front door was on the top story, that meant I had to lug all our luggage down four flights of stairs. Yippee. Needless to say, it was exhausting and I wanted nothing more than to drop into bed.

However.

When I pulled back the comforter to my bed, there were no sheets. I checked the other bed in the room. No sheets. Amy and I made a pilgrimage through the entire house. Not a sheet or a pillowcase on any bed, not a single towel in the whole darn place. Seventeen people with no sheets and no towels. Seems we didn’t leave the bad luck behind in Beaver after all.

(Still To Be Continued)