Torrey area

I couldn’t wait to get inside the truck this morning. Like waiting in a theater to see your favorite band play a show, I was eager to see Rex’s nocturne painting from the night before. From I could see, I really liked the composition but it was difficult to discern if the values reflected the almost full moonlight.

Nocturne painting

When he pulled the 9×12 out from the cardboard box, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It is stunning and is one of my favorite paintings of the trip so far.

Day Inn Camp, again

After the show, Rex got another painting in before heading out to our final Capital Reef area camp spot—Days Inn. One more night of showers, flushing toilets and connectivity before winding our way to Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. We knew there wouldn’t be much in the way of services for the next week or so.

Our visit at the Days Inn in Torry wasn’t quite as glamorous as the last hotel stay. The shower was hot, but the internet was slow and spotty. Dinner was made with a microwave, and the TV channel overload made us lazy and on edge. Rex and I tittered, while I made slow progress uploading new blog posts. But I was grateful for the brick and mortar roof, as the day and night were full of high winds and thunderstorms.

Mirror Lake

After coffee with Miss Moose, we packed up camp and made for water. Our second public event was a clean up walk around Mirror Lake in the Unita Mountains. We arrived a few hours early to get some painting and writing in before we gloved-up to scoop up discarded litter.

Our clean-up crew of two soon arrived, and we proceeded to the lake’s shore. Despite being a team of only two, our participants were eager to clean up trash abandoned by hundreds.

Just a few steps in, a retired threesome noticed us collecting rubbish and asked if we were part of a group. We explained our project and mission, and they thanked us for our work, before jumping into their own stories of art. The husband talked of the elite groups called Cowboy and Cowgirl Artists of America, while his wife described their own collection artwork.

“Oh, the story behind how this one cowgirl artist learned to paint is a great one, but I will give you the two-second version,” he said.

He proudly described her humble beginnings learning to paint with paint by numbers exercises.

His wife tittered, “you know we are proud of our collected art when we’re telling perfect strangers about it.” But Rex and I smiled and thanked them for their stories, and for their love of art. Later, Rex highlighted that it was fantastic how the couple were bragging about their art collection and not vacation houses or sports cars.

As we said farewell and continued down the path, the wife commented to her husband and friend, “it is so nice seeing young people carve out their place in the world.”

My 41-year-old ego latched on to their word young while my spirit beamed. In our current world, you need to carve out your place and purpose, otherwise, someone else may try to do it for you— society, your boss, or the bully. The placeholder can be anyone with good or bad intentions for your path. But engraving your place is not easy; it’s not a paint by number exercise. It takes gumption, guts, and grit.

As we inched our way around the lake’s edge, we spotted bits of trash, some tiny and some substantial. In certain spaces, I couldn’t walk more than a few steps without spotting shiny candy wrappers or plastic straws.

Top Five Items Found

5) Dirty diaper: Only found one, but it was fully loaded. Fix: Dump at the many garbage cans nearby.

4) Plastic bottle tops: Mostly water bottle tops. Fix: Use reusable water bottles.

3) Candy wrappers: Most discarded wrappers—Starburst and gum. Fix: keep a drawstring cloth bin bag for small garbage.

2) Bread ties: both plastic squares and twisty ties. Fix: Take ties off bread before heading out, or stick the whole loaf in a reusable container.

1) Public enemy number 1—fishing line and hooks. Mirror Lake is a beautiful place to fish but please responsibly enjoy the landscape. Long tangled fishing lines and sharp rusted hooks are incredibly harmful to both humans and wildlife. Fix: Pack out your line, and scoop up any you find the area.