Day 7: Homer Takes Over
With the constant flutter of bat wings and bat
noises interspersed with the low level earthquaking of Homer's
snoring very little sleep occurred on the last night on the
houseboat. Except for Big Ed. He slept soundly on the roof,
undisturbed by all the bats and falling guano. So, as soon as the
sun began lighting the canyon we got up and begin to get the boat
ready for our return to Bullfrog.
But when Big Ed went to start the engines the left
engine would not start. The Simp Twins immediately went into high
tension mode. Big Ed tried a few different things in the cabin. He
checked the wiring, wiggled switches. Durango read the manual. Homer
kept up a constant patter of pointless babble. Something about he
should put some DuraLube in the engine.
And then an amazing moment of Simp Twin weirdness.
Durango interrupted the Twin babble for a second. And Homer, Mr.
Never Gets Anything Right, Mr. Dumb Question, had the loopy gall to
indicate to Durango that he should be quiet and not dare to interrupt
the all-knowing Simp Twins from their twisted Gooberness.
As Big Ed continued to fiddle with the wiring
Homer marched to the rear of the boat, as if he was on a mission and
began to take off the engine cover, like we were supposed to think
he knew what he was doing. Just about then Big Ed remembered his AAA
card was in his wallet, I mean, he remembered to follow the proper
starting procedure. The engine fired up. Big Ed was quickly told
that Homer was in the back tinkering with the engine. Big Ed knew
the seriousness of that malfeasance and quickly ran to the back of
the boat, everyone fearing he wouldn't make it in time to stop Homer
from pouring in some of his ever present stash of DuraLube*
So. To make this long story slightly shorter. We
got back to Bullfrog. It was a relief. It was not annoying. We ate
at the Anasazi Restaurant. When the waitress asked us where else we
were going on our road trip she told us to buy potato skins and
nachos with velveeta from her friend who works the saloon at Stove
Pipe Wells in Death Valley.
We crossed Lake Powell on the ferry, heading
towards Mexican Hat. As we drove across the high mesa heading south
Durango could hear a bizarre Simp Twin conversation taking place in
the back seat. It started with Homer's daily variation of the
Gigabee's should have flown to Vegas litany. And then Homer told Big
Ed that the route we were taking was a stupid way to get to Grand
Canyon. Durango was appalled. Apparently in all the months in which
the itinerary of this trip was well-known, Big Boob Homer had no
awareness of the reason we were going this particular route even
more Booby the Super Goober
had no awareness that the only other route to Grand Canyon from
Bullfrog would have meant backtracking our steps through Capitol
Reef. Yeah. That would have been a good plan. It is just because of
the quality of such Boob Input that Durango has such an aversion to
pointless endless itinerary discussions.
Durango had some apprehension about the Moki
Dugway. He felt all had been well warned and informed as to what it
was. When the NO RVs Beyond this Point sign appeared it was obvious
we were nearing the edge of the escarpment and the treacherous
multi-mile switchbacked road following an ancient Anasazi Trail.
There was great concern as to how the Gigabees would react, with
their pronounced acrophobia.
And
then the Moki Dugway came full into view. And it even scared
mountain road seasoned Durango. A road that looked like something
made up for a movie. The steepest, most curvy, convoluted, narrow,
ugly stretch of road any of us had every seen. Durango was greatly
pleased, as if a prayer had been answered. He had hoped the Moki Dugway
lived up to its reputation ever since he vowed revenge on Jack for
sneaking up on him on the houseboat and squeaking like a bat while
flicking Durango's face. And revenge Durango got. At the sight of
the Moki Dugway Jack was reduced to a quivering spineless jellyfish.
Lulu was quivering almost as much when they slammed their brakes at
the start of the first major descent down the Moki Dugway. I can't
do this, poor shivering Jack stammered in full shaky quaky Aspen
mode. How about if you have a driver, Durango asked? OK. But who?
How about Homer? He's the best I got. Durango thought to himself,
Part 2 of my revenge, Homer is sure to do 
something
inappropriate and at just the worst time, not realizing that the
diaper soiling Gigabees are truly terrified. And sure enough, we
later learned Homer delivered. When Homer got behind the wheel and
Jack dove into back of his van to slug down an emergency ration of
liquid courage called whiskey Homer pulled forward toward the edge,
just far enough to send the Gigabees to total hysteria. They
screamed necessary invective at Homer. Homer made up some lame
excuse that he was just pulling ahead so Durango could get by.
Homer's defense did not match anyone else's memory.
After a slow descent we reached the floor of the
Valley of the God which Homer later asked of Durango if that was
Monument Valley. Does the word 'map' have no meaning for this boy?
Or is there just some daily quota of dumb questions he must ask? And
does he ever think before he blathers?
The check-in at the San Juan Inn went smoothly,
except for the bizarre, once more Homer, incident where Homer asked
Durango if they had already paid for this motel. Durango thought to
himself, how hard can it be to remember this stuff? And Durango
thought to himself, geez, you were standing right there when Wanda
paid for it you dumb putz. Homer persisted. Later Durango found out
that Homer was confused because the clerk has marked his initials
'N.C.' on the receipt. Of course, Homer, with his amazing
imagination just to the conclusion that N.C. meant No Charge.
Homer continued to be totally wacky. Perhaps the
Gigabee Moki-related tongue lashing had affected him aversely. We
were barely in our rooms when Homer took off, alone, hiking back to 
Mexican Hat to a trading post. He was not seen again for hours.
We like the San Juan Inn. The Navajo Restaurant
and Indian Bread. A big thunderstorm and a cat visiting our rooms.
Durango and the Gigabees went out for a late night snack. We sat and
speculated that Wanda could possibly be a saint. Or a glutton for
punishment.
We slept good that night in the San Juan Inn in
Mexican Hat. Tomorrow's destination is Grand
Canyon. With points in between...
*DuraLube has since been fined by the
FTC for making false claims.
Homer still uses the product.
