DEBACLE AT BLUE LAKE

We have returned safely from one of the least pleasant experiences in which I have ever participated. My youngest son is very much a spur of the moment kind of guy. He suggested we go out to West Wendover (no gambling)  and stay at one of the hotels for free for the night, drive to see Blue Lake which is about 20 miles south of Wendover and then have dinner at a hotel. My wife thought would be a nice outing for us, so we agreed to traverse the "beautiful" terrain between here and Wendover. 

 
Part of the problem was that we got started late in the afternoon on Friday.  We did manage to see the wonders of the desert between West Valley and West Wendover.

 We got to the hotel, dropped off our luggage and launched into a run for Blue Lake trying to make it before it was completely dark. Utah 93 is a two lane road that heads directly south of West Wendover. We drove for about 13 miles until we saw the cut off for Blue Lake. 

IT WAS A DIRT ROAD!!!

From the moment we entered the road I was not happy.  The road bed was gravel over washboard ruts which made traveling on it very slow and jarring. I expressed the exaggerated comment that the car was shaking apart and it marked the beginning of a series of comments from the back seat made by my granddaughter Ava who is 4 years old, very verbal, and extremely opinionated. The five or six mile ride at 10 bumpy miles per hours as the sun slowly set behind us was punctuated with her words of wisdom and pleading:

"Is Papa's car going to fall apart?"
"I'm not having fun."
"I don't like this."
"I really don't like this."
"This isn't fun."
"Papa can you turn around?"
"I'm not enjoying myself."
"Let's go back to the hotel."
"I don't want to go to Blue Lake."
"I wish we'd stayed at the hotel and didn't go to blue lake."
"I'm not happy."
"This isn't enjoyable."
"Papa turn around."
"I want to go back."
"I want to go home."

Most of these comments were repeated multiple times filling the entire five mile drive with an air of surreality. Here I was with my son informing me to loosen up and enjoy the adventure, my wife saying every few minutes that maybe we should turn around, Ava expressing her woes, worries and concerns and a white knuckle grip on a steering wheel that was transferring every bump and jolt into my hands and arms. 

We drove for what seemed forever without spotting Blue Lake. Finally I said I would drive to an outcropping of rock in the near distance and if there was no lake in sight we would turn around. 

Just as we reached the outcropping we came upon one of the small lakes that is part of the Blue Lake group of warm springs. I heaved a sigh of relief and we parked the car and got out. My son insisted on going down to the pond to feel the water. I kept warning him about falling into the water. He kept assuring me he could swim. I threw a rock into the still pond and then looked at my arm. 
 
A mosquito lighted on it and began to enjoy itself. I squished it and then realized we were all  being attacked by a swarm of the hungry bugs. The others began to yell and complain about the mosquitoes and we rushed to get back into the car before we were eaten alive. By the time Ava was strapped into her car seat and we were inside the car with the windows closed there were ten or twenty of the little blood suckers in with us. I drove off and we kept whacking at the mosquitoes with hands, towels or what ever we could get our hands on. We drove with the windows open hoping they would fly out. Through the whole Keystone Kops antics Ava was screaming in horror. By the time it was over I personally killed about a hundred.

After things had calmed down and we were on our way in the dark back to the paved road and civilization my wife said that the pond had been kind of beautiful surrounded by all those reeds. Ava  came immediately back with. "Grandma it wasn't surrounded by reeds. It was surrounded by mosquitoes."