Bonnefire of the Vanities (DSG & Co. P.III)

When morning came and the sun turned my tent into a wonderful oven, I thought I could lay there all day. Like a siren, however, Tyler had picked up the guitar and his voice drew me out into the bright new day. His melodies were just the right tone for a camp full of hangovers and even I, at first still hung up on myself, forgot all about my issues and committed to giving the day my all. Oh and how I carpe'd the hell out of this diem.

Since many would be parting from the Gulls today, we had to get a shot at all the bikes in attendance. I'm sure Chance was flattered to stand among them.

 

And with that, the engines fired up to go into town. Before I took off, Chance, the gentleman, asked on behalf of Ali if she could ride with me. I concede to noticing her eagerly looking around for a spare seat earlier but I reckon my obsession with trying to be a badass hindered me from reaching out with an offer. I may have even made an ego-fueled comment about accepting the extra balast to give my rear wheel better traction but I secretly welcomed the company.

Today we planned to tackle the main event that dictated the DSG's choice to camp in Escalante. There was a magnificent waterfall and pool at its base that concludes a scenic hike famously known as Lower Calf Creek Falls. Sitting at six miles round trip and the potential for a swim, we had to get ourselves a hearty brunch. There was a debate at first as to what restaurant could host 24 rowdy youngins but I boisterously chimed in with the initially-proposed cafe, stubbornly declaring they damn well better accommodate us. I proclaimed that the Escalante Outfitters restaurant would be Dead Sea Gull territory for the afternoon.

Damn straight. My apologies-- it was my first time raiding a town with a motorcycle group. In my mind's eye, I was Marlon Brando with my Black Rebels MC. Although the reality was we were all very courteous and mindful of the other patrons of the cafe, I still couldn't help entertain a boot-clunking strut around the joint. The wannabe-rebel in me left with a belly full of pizza, leaving a decent tip but a mess of crusts

While hanging out in the parking lot I hesitently asked a question I had been wondering ever since I met them at the swap meet. "Are you guys... Hipsters," as if their affirmation would cause me to hitch up my bike and ride away. They all just laughed at the honest question. I really didn't know what a hipster was but from what I gathered from jokes, they try so hard to be independent and obscure in lifestyle to the point of conceit. Then, with my own unassociated independence, it always got under my skin for people to think of me as one of such masses, ironically enough. Jordan tried to entertain an answer but admitted it was hard to even say what a hipster was. Mike, with his professedly marijuana-inspired wisdom chimed in, "Everybody's all hipster."

Brad and Jeff soon made their goodbyes, and rode west out of Escalante, leaving the remainder of us ride east towards the falls. A quick pitstop was made at the Desert Doctor but he was out towing someone in. It was still a treat for those who hadn't seen his place yet!

The portion of Highway 12 east of Escalante is undoubtedly the better half with commercial-worthy twisties and scenery. When we finally came to rest, Ali commented how beautiful the ride was and I replied how entertaining the road itself was - truly from Venus and Mars respectively. I jest - frankly the hairpin turns, drop offs and narrow canyon walls on either side had me focused entirely on the lines on the pavement. It was a shame I forgot a mount for the camera!

Despite only taking up a parking space and a half, the ranger still charged each vehicle the fee. Boo. That's how motorcycle clubs become motorcycle gangs - show some love, why don't ya? Waiting for everyone to lotion up and get into their swim gear, I kicked myself for forgetting my swim shorts yet again but my briefs seemed to do the job just fine with the last venture into the water. We marched onto the trail in my staple hiking look: shirt, jeans, boots, and satchel.

Near the trailhead was some runoff from the falls miles ahead. Giving himself a sneak preview, Nickolas dove into the water and emerged without looking blue. Surely the pool further up would be just as warm!

The hike, though scenic, was often detracted by the heat whenever not in cover. Even these paws found the sandy trail too hot to bare!

The sound of rushing water growing in the distance excited the trekkers to no end. Courtney, especially. As soon as the falls came into view he somehow was already out of his clothes and submerged in the water before I could document the act. My yelling for me to go first because he warned that he planned to pee fell upon drowned ears.

Basking in the sliver of light on the other side of the pool were the rest of the gang who reached Calf Creek Falls first. They were all shouting that the water was freezing. Surveying the many tourists simply lounging around the bank, I thought having come this far, I would be the judge of its swimability! Again, even with a sprint to psych myself up, no amount of adrenaline prepared me for the chill that enveloped my body once I dove. It wasn't as bad as Posey Lake, though, as I managed to entertain a few seconds of an attempted swim.

As if being initiated by the pool, I earned my grassy warm spot on the hill to soak up some sun. Ali, who took a dry route over welcomed me with jerky - a man's drink (inside joke from the first time I was ever intoxicated). Like a bunch of hippies, we drank, smoke, and relished in nature.

Mike catching trailmix with his mouth.

Mike recreating Michaelangelou's "Creation of Adam."

Either I was high or just being myself but I really wanted to get back in that water. Proposing another go at the pool was met with lethargic no's. To the rescue was my goto guy, Dan, who just arrived with the remainder of the gang. He wasted no time stripping to his briefs and joining me for another thrilling swim!

With the two of us thoroughly satisfied with the cold dip, we made our way back to shore only for Jordan to come running down demanding company for his belated baptism with the gods of madness. Just then a couple boys who were originally sitting hesitantly with their unobliging parents at the banks asked me how cold the water was. Dan and I exchanged a smirk and assured them it was just fine and that we'd even partake in sharing in one more hurrah. Here we go!

Now more than happy I climbed back onto the hill. This time I earned myself an oyster on a trisquit from Jared!

Then, Tyler and his company announced their parting. He came over to give me a confident handshake and an earnest best wishes in finding whatever I've been seeking on this two-wheeled quest. I took it to heart. A piece of the puzzle was already starting to unearth itself.

The Gulls and company followed suit soon after. Still rather jazzed about being out there, I was in no rush to return so I penned the straggling cluster as the Take Our Damn Time party. It consisted of Jared, Kimmie, Rachel, Jordan and myself. They were the last to show up to the falls to begin with having actually picked up a trail guide, reading it at every historical point of interest along the way! Bummed I missed out they were generous enough to give me a synopsis the entire hike back!

The Take Our Damn Time party inadvertently took a long time. I half expected everyone to be gone from the parking lot when we arrived but to my pleasant surprise, many were just hanging out, even my passenger. Jared threw out the idea of doing the Upper Calf Creek Falls hike and I jumped at the proposal! Yes, it was late in the day but there was still much of it left to be seized! The smart thing to do would've been to head back to camp and many did but the few who saddled up to continue up and east were gold in my book!

Four bikes carrying seven badasses rode on to the higher step of the falls. Jared warned it was only one mile but more like a vertical mile with practically no obvious trail.

He wasn't kidding! Thankfully he and Dan had once camped here a couple years go, vaguely remembering the path. Also, past hikers were thoughtful enough to leave interesting trail markers using all sorts of stones.

I got Life Aquatic vibes from Ali's spontaneous epic pose. Shortly after she would admit to being a Wes Anderson fan. Be still, my heart.

The short hike downhill took us to an arm of the creek. In the distance beyond the edge of the cliff before us we could see where the highest step of the waterfall was, sitting nearly a hundred feet up releasing the creek to free fall into a pool below that would subsequently drop again to the Lower Calf Creek from earlier. Jared then pointed out some curious holes in the rock in which one couldn't see the bottom of. A stray dare made it to my ears and instantly I demanded to know if they were connected to provide me with my first spelunking experience.

For better or worse, I did not dive for an alluring story that Jared was telling as he continued upstream was tugging at my ears like a leash. Referring to the last time they had camped there, the pool up ahead appeared to have no bottom and devoured a prized bottle of white wine that likely still sat at the bottom.

Just over one more hill and there she was - the fathomless pool. His tale of caution left me as quickly as my clothes. Yet again, Courtney would be first to go (he must have tear away pants), then Jon, Jared, and myself. The jump was higher than expected and as soon as I hit the water the camera in my hand was instantly dislodged! Before even surfacing for air I was more concerned about my brother's camera than I was with the cold!

I treaded water for a while processing what just happened and contemplating the reality of a less-than optimally documented rest of the trip. A moment of denial provoked me to try and open my eyes in the water but just an inch below the surface and I could barely see my own hands. The rest of the party did their best to look from above the rim but due to the constant stream entering the pool, the surface was too reflective and from my angle the kicked up sediment, too turbid. I swam out to a point where I could stand and catch my breath. There I noticed the long shadows of the day and thought it a bad idea to keep my companions any longer in the cold and imminent dark. A genuine declaration of cutting our losses for the day was declared and I started to make for the water's edge to climb out. Just then, one of my empathetic friends shouted seeing what could be it! About face and right back into the deep end I went, revealing that I was actually a lot more attached to the camera than I wanted to lead on.

Besides being a loaner, it had the entire weekend with the DSG on there that hadn't been uploaded yet! All the pictures you've seen so far! Oh-- did I just go and spoil the exciting conclusion? Well, the rescue wasn't without effort! I hadn't done any diving since my days in the swim team! Dan and Jared did their best to position me like a crane arm in one of those claw machines. The first dive took my all to try and fight my natural bouyancy to reach the bottom. Yes, there was a bottom! Blind, I reached around for whatever I could only to grab a large rock which I rushed arm held high to the surface, reminding my friends my sense of humor was still intact. Their cheers quickly turned to laughter as I chucked it. Jared threw his waterbottle down with the idea of using it as a shallow mask to look through but again, the water was too murky. At this point I noticed the water didn't seem that cold at all and did what I could to be still, squinting my eyes to peer down. In my peripheral something glinted in the setting sun! Everyone atop leaned off the edge a little, anxious. Once I felt I had the right spot, I dove once more and...

(skip darkness to last 30 seconds)

How elated we all were! The fact that it was filming the entire time made the event that much more epic. Oh man, we were hooting and hollering for quite some time! I shouted to Jared that we should attempt for the sunken wine so we could really toast to good friends on misadventures! Unfortunately with the lack of daylight, we didn't have all day to celebrate. I jumped out and we all ran uphill to dry off in the sun which was moving quickly across the rocks.

The hike back, though strenuous with the incline, could have been less tolerable. The events of the day just made me feel light on my feet. I thought about what I had said before jumping in and losing my camera and smirked. "Famous last words: Leap first!". It was the first thing that came to mind. As mentioned in the beginning of this chronicle, it just happened to be the name of my last journal five or six years ago before I seemingly lost touch with myself. There was something I buried back then and it was coming back to the surface today.


Thighs sore and throats parched, we, well, I crawled back to my bike. Dan shared a celebratory beer he had been saving with everyone but I went straight for the bottle of water I had left by accident. We still had a lot of road to cover before reclining to the warmth of the fire and good company. Seeing how drained we were after two eventful hikes, he mentioned a decent gas station and restaurant up the road a ways to which we all nodded in agreement. Ali and I tailed him and Kimmie then Jon out of the dirt road but when we reached Highway 12 and looked behind us, Dan and Courtney were nowhere in sight. Jon elected to turn back but just then, a headlamp emerged from the trees and rattled its way to us. They had fell due to the soft dirt. No harm done - or so we thought.

Carrying on eastward to what we dreamed of was a heated restaurant and equally hot food, the road got pretty hairy with seriously tight turns shouldered by complete drop offs. Jared lead the way to a dark building off the side of the road at the bottom of the hill. I hoped this wasn't it. It was and it was closed. Still, it was the least of our worries because the Harley was straggling behind again. We waited a bit longer then started to suspect the worst with those technical roads. Jon headed back first and then Jared and Kimmie. Gearing up for another night ride, I actually made use of the goggles that were only meant to be on the ornament that was my spare Captain America helmet. Ali and I made our way back up the twisty mountain and right around the bend was our group of bikes with everyone huddled over Dan's.

The bikers and their ride seemed to be intact. Apparently on the downhill portion of the ride Dan noticed he had no rear brake! With those white knuckle turns heading down into the canyons building all that momentum, he was lucky to be able to stop and pull over without flying over the handlebars! When we happened upon them, the resourceful owner was already working on the best ghetto rigging on the camping trip thus far. Since his brake lever was damaged in the drop earlier, it hung lifelessly without a way of engaing the brake line. He had bought some cheap, silly throwing knives from a gas station earlier and was attaching it in a most charming way to the braking system.

That was the last picture taken of the trip with my camera who's battery had served well. Before long, all of us were on two wheels again with Dan and Courtney taking point to set the pace and allow us to keep an eye on them.

The ride back to Escalante was beautiful to say in the least. The occasional corner would wake me from my trance but most other times I was mesmerized by the black and violet scenery surrounding us. The improvised playlist I created for a night ride was hit and miss but I still had a pleasant time. The bikes sputtered into one of the only lit places in town - a burger joint that was open for just a few minutes longer.

Those hard working cooks behind the glass did their best to squeeze in our orders and even take on other late night stragglers behind us. Food after misadventure always tastes so good to me. While I shoved the burger down my throat I watched as Dan almost tripped over a transparent wire separating the food joint's parking from the gas station's next door. He joked he would tell that story at the campfire as the most epic highlight of the day. Jared emerged from the gas station as well with some can of beans that would serve as the true climax to the day.

Back at camp, everyone welcomed us home and sighed with relief. Angie joked how initially they were worried but then thought that if we were in trouble one of us would have at least had the sense to come back and muster a rescue party. Then she scoffed thinking how futile that would've been considering how high or drunk they already were!

Excited to hear of our evening, I let Dan tell his stories first while uploading the video to my iPad. He even set up the stage for what they were about to witness. David opened a chair for me at the fire and everyone gathered around as I held my digital journal up for all to see much like a storyteller taking a break from the text to show everyone the illustration. I didn't know what to expect seeing as how it would be my first time seeing it too. We all got a laugh at seeing me swim towards the surface just as the camera floated down to the bottom like a leaf. Aww's were the next reaction to go all around when the lense landed face down and we listened to what seemed like submarine ambiance for some time. I skipped forward cautiously trying not to spoil the end when it came as a surprised that it was still pitch darkness. Then the sound of water moving quickly and the bright light of the day cleared the view to cheers. The crowd gathered around erupted as well! They couldn't believe it! Just when everyone's laughers took a moment to simmer down and the video concluded...

A horrific explosion occurred behind them all and everyone jumped! Nickolas was quick to ask if everyone was okay. At first I thought Jon had taken advantage of the distraction to throw his fireworks in the bonfire but the culprit was none other than Jared! His can of beans exploded because he forgot to poke holes in it! Oh dear, half of us were laughing, the others catching their breaths and color back in their faces. But poor Ali somehow got the worst of it - beans everywhere from her favorite coat to up to her hair. Beans weren't the only projectile, however, as some ashes from the fire managed to singe Tera's neck. Chance made light of it all by thanking me for saving everyone from a disfigured life! Apparently had everyone simply been sitting facing the fire and not huddled around me with their backs to it, we all would have looked like Two Face from Batman. The camera rescue footage gained legendary status that night.

I was passed a bottle of bourbon, I believe, and Tera spoke up to tell me that tonight I should get wild! Feeling the collective excitement from everyone there, I chugged that bottle and another side of me was released.

It took many swigs for me to relinquish all my self-imposed inhibitions. I vaguely recall apologizing several times at my behavior, reassuring my now captive audience that this was not me. But then in the blur of firelit faces, I clearly saw Nickolas' as he said something along the lines of... Ah! I cannot remember! I'm writing days later and it still eludes me! Damnit, but what I can say is that the seeds of an epiphany were planted. The next memory between me singing Don Quixote's Impossible Dream and the theme song to the Gummi Bears kid show, throwing my shirt into the fire, declaring a mild infatuation for Ali, being restrained from playing with Jon's fireworks, referring to Mike's fancy drinking backpack as a camel dick, revealing my brother's and my plan to liberate Hemmingway's belongings from Cuba, getting on a tirade about how sneezing in public was ungentlemanly, cooking a rice crispy treat with my bare hands in the fire then serving it to everyone as a Eucharist, tugging Nickolas' beard and many other antics that can only be recalled by the most sober of bystander, I was invited away from the bonfire where all became witness to my initation as a member of the Dead Sea Gulls.

I vividly remember tears welling in Nickolas' eyes as he gave a proud and sincere speech about the character of his brother and sisters. For a beautiful moment, I calmed my fiery spirit and listened intently to his honoring words. Then, I was given the bottle again, told to hold two shots worth in my mouth and to brace myself. As tradition goes, initation into the DSG demands a fierce slap to the face without spilling the alcohol or else a repeat of the entire process was necessary. This bearded man's slap felt more like a stinging punch but I locked my eyes in his and took it stoically. Cheers exploded all around and with an embrace of compassion, my new brother declared that he'd take a bullet for me. I was really touched, even in my fucked up state, for lack of better expression. Jon would join to, having been long overdue for membership. He ended up taking two - one missed the cheek, causing him to fall on his back but not spilling a drop. Drugs, alcohol, and unruly behavior aside, I was among men and women of the highest caliber when it came to character.

I stayed awake all night around the fire, slowly coming off my intoxication. I would listen to both Jon and Jordan play the guitar, Lyuba and Nickolas to recite their respective styles of poetry, and most other times stand in the silence, simply appreciating one another's company. Before I knew it, the sun was rising and the remaining handful - Mike, Lyuba, Courtney and I were performing sun salutations and other yoga poses. Soon after, I crawled into my tent and passed out on top of my sleeping bag with my boots still on.

Only half an hour would pass before the warm sun got up on my feet again, feeling as if I had the best sleep ever on this camping trip. The camp was still quiet and so would I be all throughout the morning. Everyone seemed to be suffering hangovers except I who was once again, simply hung up over myself. Part of me felt ashamed for the night before but another half was trying to get my attention to which I continually brushed off.

Back in town we seemed to cling to this camping trip, doing whatever we could to extend it whether over breakfast at the cafe, washing our dirty bikes at the gas station, or even killing time at a thrift store.

But we all had miles to face and our lives to return to. Mutually and almost unspokenly accepting of this fact, we all exchanged good byes, many pointing their tires north towards Salt Lake City, east to Colorado, and west to Las Vegas.

 

And me? I stood there on the side of the road for quite some time. I remember there not being a single vehicle passing by for the duration. Once the engines of my new friends disappeared, the quiet left me to only my thoughts.

I wondered if I should ride on today and then a yawn hit me. The kickstand finally raised up and I rolled into the motel just down the street hoping to see Paige. She wasn't there. I got a room anyway, the same one with the painting of the cowboy and his horse resting at a lake. My reflection loosely bounced off the painting's glass and I remembered just there and then that I had strained to find an piece of the bigger picture in this very room last week. Rushing up from the murky depths of integrity-lacking years and self-erected social barriers that had been inspired by layers of substance-less values of a society I only took comfort in but never sincerely wanted to be a part of, was my revelation. Just as it came to consciousness for me to embrace...

I fell freely onto the bed where slept soundly.