Meet Tuesday. My new adventure partner. Sporting some new shoes, she’s spent the last 900 miles of her young life yearning to enjoy the views found in our backyard. A few hand washes and subsequent detail jobs certainly await her return to civilization but for now she wears her southern Utah red dirt proudly.
Tuesday has two meanings. The first and most obvious one come from the phrase Taco Tuesday. Our first Tacoma, back in the two-kid phase in our lives, was affectionately known as Toy Taco, because even in a modern world such as this one, insurance companies felt it necessary to abbreviate Toyota Tacoma. The second meaning comes from my father-in-law’s Tacoma, that I lovingly refer to as the Sunday Truck. Having two Tacomas in his arsenal, the newer, lifted version spends its life driving around on nice Sunday afternoons. Not Tuesday, though. She’s a truck to be driven every day.
So besides being Tuesday’s first time in four high, four low, in both climb and descend modes, she’s dirty. Being my steed from home to the backcountry this week, she breathed the fresh high desert mountain air while taking in the sights of the various strata that make southern Utah the most beautiful place in the world. Carrying all my necessities to the end of the road that abuts the similarly named wilderness area, our adventure this week is hiking into the airstrip Mexican Mountain, which, at some point this summer, was flooded and left damaged.
Instead of waiting months for the necessary government approval to hire a mule-driven trailblazing team to come in and re-grade the runway back to a safe operating condition, a few brave warriors that I’ve dubbed the UBCP SLED DOGS will join me throughout the week to repair the erosion damage and reopen the airstrip for future adventurers. Hiking in the 2.5 miles into the strip carrying everything they would need on their backs, the SLED DOGS are braving sub-20° weather to make the impossible happen.
Well, we thought we were hiking in. That is, until my good friend Russ came to offer his assistance, and made a few new friends hauling all our water and gear into the airstrip via his helicopter.
A few hours of work today validated this crazy idea Russ, Steve, and I conjured up at the airstrip last month. Loading plastic toboggans with rocks and gravel, the once washed out middle of the airstrip slowly raises to a more suitable, accessible, and safe condition. Tomorrow, Russ has graciously volunteered to shuttle in and out local pilots willing and able to help from a nearby airport, bringing today’s contingent of five SLED DOGS to almost 20. There’s no doubt in our minds that we can restore this airstrip over the course of the week, even if we’re limited to hand tools and non-wheeled conveyances. And with more inbound throughout the week, we’ll certainly have enough to overcome the wilderness challenges before us.
Tonight’s also my first night keeping warm in our Christmas presents from the in-laws. Wiggy’s of Grand Junction makes some amazing sleeping bags that apparently having these two zipped together should keep me warm to -40°. So tonight’s low of 20° or less should be okay. Additionally, tonight begins a few nights having planned to backpack in everything I’d need for five days. Having been away from my tent for too long this year, the return to the wilderness refreshes my soul and invigorates my sense of adventure.
But tonight, as I stay bundled up anxious for the days to come, I’m grateful for Tuesday, who made the trek here not only possible, but a pure delight. Looking forward to many more adventures here soon.