Kiva, Kale, and Canadian

Our drive back from Calf Creek was punctuated by two much longer stops then they needed to be.  My hunch is that they were done that way so we would give Kale (more than just a superfood, but also a good guy who ran an awesome camp) enough time to get set up for our return.

The first stop was at what might be the most beautiful coffee shop setting in the world.  Kiva Koffeehouse is perched high on a bluff above the Escalante River, with sweeping views of the valley surrounded by high cliffs.

The poor cashier was someone’s aunt, and it was her first day.  Having a dozen people show up at once was more than she bargained for.  The painfully slow service was made up for by the incredible views out the windows.

(Sorry, this is NOT going to be a “painfully slow service” rant – just an observation that when you order the chocolate chip cookie and a San Pellegrino, you should not have a ten minute wait for the water plus being given a ginger cookie instead.  The cookie was good, and not worth asking for a swap – that would have blown auntie’s mind.  I kept my mouth shut, ate my cookie, and gratefully drank my bottle of water once it finally arrived.)

Anyhow, we sat around for a while, tired and wanting to get back to camp for a shower.  (By “we” I mean me, although I got the sense from some others they were wanting to go as well.  Okay – I got that sense because they told me, so there is probably something to it.)  Finally we left.

Then we stopped at the Visitor’s Center for a half hour when 15 minutes would have sufficed.

The shuttle bus rolled into camp precisely at 5pm, and we stumbled out.  Kale had warm Epsom Salt foot baths waiting for us, and it was like a miracle cure.  My feet felt beat up, and the relief of taking off my hiking boots, smelly hiking socks, and putting them in the water changed my modestly cranky mood instantly.

The shower made me feel like a brand new man.  The water temperature was just right.  The only mistake I made I left my new camp towel in the tent, so I dried off using my dirty hiking shirt.  That’s the lazy man’s way of dealing with a forgotten towel.  At least it will be clean for my next shower at Zion camp!

Dinner was a beef stew made by Kale, and kale made by Chance.  Chance’s kale was good, but you would think that a guy named Kale would have nailed it.  Leaving nothing from Chance, but if your name is the same as the dish, you should. . .well, you get the idea.

There was also plenty of polenta.  It was all good, but I was not as hungry as I expected.  I did have room for dessert - strawberry shortcake with Canadian vanilla ice cream (honestly, I’ve never heard of “Canadian vanilla” as a flavor.  It tasted fine, but I did detect notes of Canadian superiority complex – a blend of “national health care,” “Tim Horton’s,” “high tax rates,” and “no humidity during our three weeks of summer.”)

Just asking for a friend – isn’t “Canadian vanilla” a repetitive phrase?

Okay, Rod, I’m done gently mocking Canada, so you can calm down now.

We sat around the campfire, drinking wine or beer till we peeled off one by one.  I was one of the first to bed, turning off my headlamp around 9:05pm, hoping to make up for the previous night’s lousy sleep.  It was a good day.