(It's not all) Rainbows and Butterflies

Showers. This length of this section is sadly in itself some indication of the shower situation. Few and (fairly) far between, the quest for a hot shower can take many forms.... and after a week of climbing can also be quite desperate. Cycle shops, camp sites, truck stops (actually where I had the best shower to-date), alpine lakes, and friends' Airbnbs have all been sought out with varying degrees of success. As temperatures dropped and the lakes/rivers turned intimidatingly cold, the use of wet wipes and my sun bag shower had to be resorted to more often. But there is still nothing quite like a hot shower and the confidence you garner to walk into any store or restaurant after!

An unwelcomed visitor. It all started with an inconspicuous clue: a few small, brown pellets nestled under the passenger's side foot area. A quick Google search narrowed the suspects to carpet larvae or a small rodent. I cleaned the floor and put it in the back of my mind. Perhaps it had happened weeks ago and I just didn't notice. Or maybe it was remnants from the build-out that had gone uncovered. And besides, I was en route to Montana. Surely the car ride and colder nights would scare away any lingering critter.

Around a week later, while still in Montana, I checked back in on the passenger's foot rest expecting to find nothing. After all, there had been ZERO indication of anything amiss in the meantime. What do I find but an ample more amount of these little droppings -- as if to mock my lack of attention! More Google research not only confirmed the perpetrator to be a mouse, but also indicated that most of these droppings were quite new (you can tell by the color, apparently). Flustered, I made a bee-line to the nearest Home Depot to buy a mouse trap. There, I made what turned out to be my second crucial mistake. Feeling humanitarian, I bought a 'live trap' so that I could release the mouse into the wild if I ever caught it. I baited the trap with a smidgen of peanut butter, put it where the droppings were most concentrated, and waited. And waited. And waited. But after 3 days, nothing! The droppings seemed to have reduced in frequency and I began to think it had run off. So, I started my drive down to Moab with little concern about any mouse infiltrator.

Halfway through the drive my electricity for the bottom cigarette lighter began to fail. An annoyance, for sure, but not vital. Then the second cigarette lighter stopped working a few days later. Damn. But this latest frustration brought out a new urgency and led to my first (mini) eureka moment. The mouse wasn't living near, behind, or on the floor panel... it was living in the dashboard above with the droppings simply falling into the same area!! And it apparently was getting more ambitious if it was starting to make it's way to the electric wiring.

With the new revelation (admittedly feeling slightly idiotic for not thinking of this earlier) I set the live trap presumably where the mouse must had been so effortlessly trafficking. I left for a day of climbing and returned that night anxious to inspect. As I lifted the trap under the full-moon light I was cast with a mixed sense of disappointment and relief. No movement. Nothing. But as I set it down I noticed a dark shadow on one side of the trap. I took out my phone, turned on the flashlight, and AHA! There it was! Squeezed in the corner where the peanut butter was baited, it had blended right in. So smug, yet so innocent looking. But now what? It was well into the night at that point and I couldn't bring myself to want to deal with the pest immediately. So I put the trap outside on the camp table. Tomorrow I would simply chuck the bugger far from camp and let it live the rest of his days in peace and solitude.

The next morning the typical preparations for climbing began. Eggs, green bell peppers, salsa, kale, cheese all coming together for what was sure to be an excellent breakfast. Happy that the saga was over, I picked up the trap to again admire my prize. I turned it once over. GONE. The little f@#$%& was gone. I couldn't help but laugh at how this small creature was continually out maneuvering me. It seemed almost poetic at this point anyways. With plenty of other campsites around and a whole wooded area nearby, I sheepishly hoped that it would find a better life elsewhere or get picked up by a circling predator of the sky.

I went to sleep the following night with little worry (fool me once, shame on you...) only to be promptly startled awake at 3am by the sound of scurrying on my van's kitchen counter. I freakishly kicked the surface, made as much noise as possible, and flicked the lights on. This time it had gone TOO FAR. Little droppings lay all over my counter. That was it. My desire to be a humanitarian victor evaporated swiftly and I swore an unpleasant end to the nuisance that had plagued me for too long.

At this point I had gone back to Salt Lake City to visit an old college friend. Luck have it, he too had dealt with plenty of mice in his old housing situation. Armed with his sage advice I picked up two lethal mouse traps, baited one with cheese and the other with peanut butter, and plotted my revenge. I set all three traps up (including the live trap that was now duct taped to the high heavens) and patiently waited to find the remnants of my issues neatly taken care of. But alas, nothing. As nonchalantly as the mouse entered my life, it exited stage left. A classic Irish goodbye. Days and then weeks passed with no sign and my initial anxiety turned slowly to hope and then relief. I can only speculate what happened to my little mouse companion, but in some ways I wish it well. As with all of us, it was only trying to survive! And who knows, maybe it will find a way to resurface and surprise me once again.

As heard on the road

• "Some people are so poor, all they have is money" - Climber (originally Bob Marley?)

Random learnings

• Olive oil has a low freezing point (42F) making breakfast a frustrating affair after a cold night! Coconut oil is an awesome substitute that I put in almost everything now.

• Carbonated beverages explode in super cold temps (thanks, Stanley ID!!).

• Potatoes, Onion, Kale, Zucchini, and Eggs are all you need to survive for weeks on end.

The people you meet.

Any traveler knows that the people are what make the whole thing worth it. This experience, in particular, I've learned to never assume anything about anyone. Here are just a few short stories from the extraordinary people I've met along the way (apologies if I did not get the story 100%!).

• Loretta. Met in Moab. Former education and grant specialist from Alaska. Left her job and rode her bike across 50 countries and 5 continents. She was living in rural India while training for long distance/ultras while the pandemic happened and got 'locked out'. She bought a van in the USA and is now making her way to Alaska because she wants to own property again and build a circular house.

• John 'the Alchemist'. Met in Grand Junction. Former marine turned gangster? He was given 6 months to live from cancer diagnosis and proceeded to give away $11m in property rights, buy an adventure bicycle, and take his dog on an indefinite biking trip. Along the way he lived in the forest and learned natural medicine. 7 years later he now runs a psychedelics company and is working with a PhD candidate at an Ivy League school researching benefits of psychedelics on PTSD etc.

• Random Sun Valley ski lift-mate. Met in Sun Valley. Originally from Washington State, he went to Sun Valley when he was 18 and knew he wanted to retire there. He then spent the next 40 years working at Safeway and saving up so he could buy a place. He is now living out his life-long dream and working part-time as a resort ski-instructor.

• Jen. Met in Indian Creek. One of the most genuine (and blunt!) people I've met. A practicing lawyer, she lost her husband a number of years ago and now spends her free time rock climbing. At the time we met she was waiting on a case to be shown to the Supreme Court for consideration - then she planned on retiring.

• Anonymous. Met in Indian Creek. 11 year old kid of a well known rock climber who has sixteen '14k ft' mountains under his belt.

Down-time. I can only physically climb, hike, or run for so long. I've found that about once a week I need a day off to rest and once every other week I need a true 'reset' where I ideally do as little as possible and curl up with a good book or movie. Snow days are always a welcomed reprieve as it gives me an excellent excuse to stay in bed - plus my van's insulation doesn't exactly inspire me to want to get up anyways. All in all, it has been extremely refreshing to read almost daily and be actually selective with when I want to catch up on world events instead of being constantly inundated with information and news. BUT it can also be equally frightening to turn on the phone after days without service and be pinged with a barrage of apocalyptic updates.