It was high time to see the cousins again, so we agreed to meet in northern Utah at a yurt on the Ashley National Forest between Vernal and Dutch John. We succeeded in finding the Lynips in the Firehole country, not too far from Rock Springs, Wyoming. We caravaned as far as we could and then loaded everybody into the Chev for the long, hard road to the yurt. It was, as you might have predicted, a disaster:There was the mud; the back to back to back thunderstorms; numerous failed mouse trappings; a swan dive from the top bunk for Ellen at one in the morning; and finally my loss of patience with the hunters driving through our camp. We were lucky that the cousins didn't demand to go home.
On the other hand, we had a beautiful trip to Dinosaur National Monument, some good conversations, a slumber party, a few great meals, and several hours for Bluie and Pinkie the horses to work with their wrangler.
It was tough to say goodbye, but by dinner time on Sunday we were camped along the banks of the Muddy just south of Ferron in our kind of country, big and empty. We made it home early on Monday and started planning for next year's trip to North Fork, Idaho.
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