Ryan Barton
English 2010
Memoir
Jessica Frogley
Thieves of Solace
I watched the pavement close to the Jeep. At first it was clear. I could see the vivid features of the asphalt. I could almost pick out, each piece of oil covered gravel. The traffic light turned green and the vivid distinctions quickly evaporated into a blur as the jeep gained speed bombarding up the onramp. My excitement matched the jeeps speed growing more intense with time. We were on our way to our spring break adventure.
My excitement was short lived. My persona transformed into boredom as the mile markers passed. Three and a half hours seems longer when sitting in one seat. Heidi slowly moved closer to me resting her head on my shoulder. A single strand of blonde hair teased me by softly tickling my nose. For a moment I forgot we were in the back seat of a jeep traveling 80 mph down a desert road. This is all I ever wanted.
Panic! “Ryan, where do we go from here?” Trevor (the driver) managed to enter into my paradise. We were fast approaching a fork in the road. I scrambled around the tight space I called my own, searching for the directions. Quickly scanning my poorly written directions, miraculously I found it. “Turn right” I declared, and not a moment too soon. We flew around the bend at an alarming speed. It seemed that Trevor was as sick of driving just as much as we were of sitting. Or maybe he was pressured at the thought of putting up a tent in the dark. The sun was setting low in the west and it wouldn’t be long until it would hide itself behind the red cliffs in the distance.
The once smooth gliding of the Jeep turned into a bumps and jolts at the transition of asphalt to dirt. The campground wasn’t far. Before leaving I had looked at some satellite pictures to map some place to camp in the vast B.L.M. land before us. Still going faster than necessary we past the empty parking lot where A.T.V. enthusiasts would park their trailers in the summer. We continued up the windy dirt canyon road, passing the natural beauty of the red rock dancing in the glow of a setting sun.
I was surprised to see so many campers. We thought we would be alone in this vast expanse of land. It still was relatively early in the season for tourists. It was our goal to camp far from anyone and find solace in the desert. The road became more treacherous as we climbed the mountain looking for our destined spot. Large white rocks jutted out of the red road looking like broken bones piercing out flesh. The jeep wouldn’t be able to continue much longer if the road continued to in its ragged deterioration.
At last we found the place we were looking for. Forces of nature had painstakingly formed this spot for millions of year. The red rock formed a U shape around a level sandy surface overlooking the valley below. In the distance Red white and orange plateaus’ lined the horizon. For one searching for solace this was paradise. We scanned the horizon looking for anything that clashed with our natural surroundings. We were alone. We had the isolation we were looking for.
Opening the door to the Jeep we were welcomed by the warm aroma of fresh desert air. One could decipher the hint of dry sand on the tail end of the calm breeze that greet us to our temporary home. The small sun seared trees seemed tired from enduring many harsh summer months and yet happy as they swayed with the breeze. The five of us stood quietly taking in the sight of grandeur before us. With the sunset upon the valley, the mixture of red light and red rock turned the entire landscape into an inferno of hot color.
With the threat of darkness upon us we set up our tents in at a rapid pace. Standing back to admire our work, we stared at the awkward fabric that imposed on the once natural beauty of nature. It seemed so out of place in this environment. Just like us. City kids in the middle of desert. We had no business being isolated away from the loving care of our mothers.
As the sun hide itself from the traumatic injustice of our tents, the night cold set in. Pulling the box of wood from out of the jeep we attempted to build a fire without matches. After a few minutes of failure we gave into the modern day breakthrough of matches. With a slight flick of the wrist we created fire.
The fire burned Big and hot. Our camp chairs slowly migrating away from the flames as the coals grew hotter. The sound of laughter, and storytelling were drowned out by the silence around us. Silence has its own therapeutic features which soothe the soul. As I sat focusing on the flicker of the flames and the endless silence of the desert I was swept away in relaxation.
Suddenly without warning light filled the darkness on the road below us. A group of three vehicles was pummeling into our sanctuary. Soon the laughter around the fire turned to silence as all of our party noticed the uninvited guests approaching. The three off road vehicles stopped in front of our camp site. There was enough room for a couple of more tents, “but really?” they wouldn’t dare camping in the same spot as us. My thoughts turned into words as I spoke with our camping party who were all afraid of the same thing.
Our fears were lightened as the convoy began their journey further up the road. But the relief was short lived. The first vehicle broke new ground, blazing a new path to the rocks above us. The two other vehicles followed their leader just as a sheep would follow their shepard. They stopped in a half circle 50 yards from our campsite. The roar of their engines died. The sliver of silence was shattered by doors flinging open and kids, so many kids jumping out of the vehicles. “Noisy good for nothing campers!” Our silent conversation was broken by our disdain for the newcomers. Immediately we began planning on what we should do in order to make them leave. “Shoot the guns and act like we are drunk” was the first of our genius plans.
Hours passed. We had many ideas but none had taken effect. No one wanted to leave the warmth of the fire. All we wanted was the sounds of yelling kids to go away. The silence that once surrounded us was consumed by the children at play. Our peaceful solitude had turned into a raging summer carnival. The yells coming from on top of the hill were distinctly audible so much that we could hear their loud conversations with every annoying audible.
The hours passed, along with our attempts at formulating a plan to rid ourselves of these unwanted guests. The children had begun to play hide and seek which inevitably led them into our camp. The infiltration of the visitors caused us to retreat to a tent for some phase 10. Within the flimsy walls of the tent we realized that we could not hide from our foes. The tent seemed to illuminate their endless banter. As the hours slowly moved towards midnight our speech and dislike for the campers grew more intense. Screaming at times "SHUT UP!” which seemed to do nothing but humor our constituents.
We were not alone in our annoyance. It seemed that the Earth itself had enough of these guys. Shortly after midnight the wind began to blow. While safe in our little nook, the wind on top of the hill seemed that of a roaring jet engine. Filling our neighbor’s camp with cloud after could of dusty tumble weeds. After hours of scheming we were unable to silence our foes, but within moments of the galactic burst of air, our neighbors were silent. All we could hear was the melodic hum of the wind above us.
As we retired to our tents nature had again taken over its home. The wind blew in uneven bursts creating a melodic lullaby that nurtured us to sleep. The tent moved inwards and outwards with the gentle spray of wind that entered our protected cavern. We laughed to ourselves knowing that fifty yards away on top of the hill, the wind raged with all of its ferocity. Our unwanted guests were given a taste of their own medicine, an unprecedented amount of unwanted annoyance which seemed to be completely out of their power.
