Our time in Pergatoiry-- or should that be purgatory?

Pergatoiry River Valley

June 2012

Maddie 11

Kier 9

Cora 6

I hate High-wing airplanes. Joel tells me my disdain is unwarranted, that the reason the two flights in a Cessna were so bumpy is because it was late-June and they were afternoon flights when the hot air is rising. None the less, I maintain my feeling that the wings belong on the bottom of the plane. That way you can look down and see that the wings are still there. At any rate, two of our most bumpy flights took place in a beautiful, near new (leather seats and all) Cessna 152 while the paperwork for the battered Cherokee still sat in insurance purgatory. 

The first such flight was, I kid you not, not more then 20 minutes from take off to landing. Still it was long enough for both girls to toss their cookies, but not long enough that we thought to bring barf bags or extra clothes. Yep, that was a huge oversight!, and so much for those shinny new leather seats! Not only that but a Cessna 152 carries 4 people-- leaving one Shaklee family member without a seat. So this little 20 minutes flight from Centennial Airport in Denver to Rocky Mountain Metro in Broomfield required several hours of planning and driving to get everyone to the same air show at about the same time. We had to pick up food, drop Kier off with our airplane friends, the Lowels, and then drive from their

house (which is significantly closer to Metro Airport) back to Centennial airport. On the other hand, this convoluted method of arriving at the airshow did save us the cost of admission--just don't ask about the cost of plane rental and av-gas-- and allowed us the squeeze in landing between B52s and Japanese Yaks.

A few weeks later we were once again crammed in the 152 (Kier was once again temporarily adopted by the Lowels and their Moony) and bouncing across the sky on our way to Purgatoire River Valley. Seriously, who goes to Purgatoire on vacation! The good news is that this time no one needed the barf bags which we had the foresight to remember, the bad news was that a strong head wind made the trip take forever. And, once we reached the airport in La Junta that head wind became a wicked crosswind across the run way. One thing to know about wind and airplanes is that it pushes the airplane around a lot more then it does a car. So, if the wind is coming perpendicular to the direction you want to travel and your airplane is pointed straight, you are not going to get where you want to go. Therefore the pilot must point the airplane at an angle; they call this crabbing because, like a crab, you end up “walking” sideways-- it's a strange sensation. If you think about this for a moment you'll realize the problem that arises when the wheels of said “sideways moving” airplane hit the tarmac of the “not sideways moving” runway. In order fix this problem the pilot puts the plane in a slideslip as you near the runway. In a slideslip the airplane has one wing tipped up and one tipped down. This changes the airflow over the wings and results in less push on the plane-- it also means that the plane lands on one wheel. As you can imagine its a tricky maneuver. And being in a light plane makes it even trickier. Joel was all over the rudder peddles to keep the plane in the proper “not too much, not too little” angle. And I was squirming all over my seat, because I'm sure somehow my shifted weight makes all the difference in how the plane handles. (No?) We, of course, landed unscathed, but apparently gave our friends quiet the “airshow”.

Once on the ground, the real adventure began. For one thing it was crazy hot in La Junta that weekend. We were tent camping at the near by KOA and could have saved ourselves the trouble of packing those bulky sleeping bags-- we certainly didn't need them. In fact what we really needed was some sort of a tent air conditioner! I'm pretty sure the over night low was still somewhere in the 80s that night. Brett's (Lowell) solution was to take a cold shower fully clothed before entering their tent. The result was apparently a somewhat effective human evaporative cooler in their tent. On the other hand, our family, not knowing this trick, just spent the night sweating it out on top of our sleeping bags.

The stated purpose of this trip into Purgatorie River Valley (also called Picketwire Canyonlands-- although in our collective opinion Purgatorie is a much more fitting name) was to take a ranger led trip into the park to see the largest dinosaur tracksite in North America. According to the Forresty Services website, over 1,300 dinosaur footprints extending over ¼ of are visible in the canyon.

Access to the site is strictly controlled. There are only two ways to visit: 1) hike, bike or horseback the 17+ miles in the scorching hot sun, or 2) take one of the two or three yearly four wheel drive Forest Service guided tours into the canyon. We opted for the ranger led trip-- a decision which turned out to be very wise indeed, given the soaring temperatures that day.

We arrived at the Forestry Service office mid-morning to join the four-wheel caravan of about 10 vehicles that would make the trek into the canyon that day. We had flown into La Junta and, it being a small town that generally doesn't even make it to “dot on the map” status, finding a rent-able four wheel vehicle was a bit of a trick. But, Bret was determined. He had found us a car dealership that was willing to rent us a Suburban for the weekend....as long as we didn't take it “off roading”. We reasoned that we would in fact be “on roads”; they would be dirt and forestry service road, but roads none-the-less. Our conscious almost clear, we set off into the bottom of Purgatorie.

Our tour took us past a cliff wall decorated with ancient petroglyphs, into bottom of the canyon and through the homestead of the pickitwire farm and of course along the bottom of the river where we followed in the gigantic footprint of million year old dinosaur tracks. The day was insanely hot. The car thermometer showed 108 much of the day. The forest ranger reported that his handheld thermometer read 118 at one point-- we were dubious, as that would have set an impressive record for Colorado. But at some point the difference between 108 and 118 is immaterial-- both are crazy, dangerous HOT. Between short forays into the inferno we turned the AC up full blast and guzzled gallons of water. Remarkably, no one in the entire caravan of cars ended up with heat stroke!

The exploration over, we all drove out of the canyon and started back on the dirt road to town. And that is when the inevitable happened-- A flat tire! In the 108 (+?) degree temperatures we all piled out of the rental car to gape at the very flat tire. We were stuck, on a dirt road, miles from any sort of main road, in a car we we not supposed to take off road (although technically we were back on a road by the time the flat tire occurred....) Fortunately for us, we were not the last car of the caravan to make the trip out. A kindly couple in a “decked out to the hilt” jeep pulled up behind us. We have had more then one mishap while four wheeling and I've noticed that four wheel people are always very helpful-- I think it may have to do with getting to use their stash of emergency gear with out having to endure the emergency themselves. What ever the reason we are eternally grateful that they pulled over and had the right gear to temporarily patch up the tire so we could drive (rather then walk!) the rest of the way to town.

But now, what to do about the obviously damaged tire? It was decided that a new tire should be purchased in order to hide our transgressions. The men went off to procure said tire, which took an inordinate amount of time. The women tried to cool and placate hot, tired hungry children with a swimming pool and ice cream. After a dinner of by the slice pizza and pop, we climbed into our steaming hot tents for another night in the KOA before flying out as early as possible the next morning to avoid the heat of the next day.

But strange as it may seem, as we drove across Denver to go pick Kier up from the Lowel's house, I remarked to Joel what an interesting trip it was and that I couldn't imagine sharing that trip with anyone but the Lowel's. And so there you have it, in Purgatorie we learned the value of friends (and that misery loves company ;). Although, a some point Dawn pointed out that her parents used to just have friends over for dinner and cards..... and at that moment, that sounded like a much better idea!