It was about this time that a couple of families arrived and began scrambling over the hoodoos. Watching them, I was reminded of my time growing up in Arizona. Like we had been, these kids had no fear of heights and were taking turns posing in the middle of the thin bridge of rock that I’d been shooting earlier. I was impressed by both the careless bravery of youth and the strength of the bridge of stone. As we headed back to the car we saw photographers beginning to arrive with their tripods to capture the arch and hoodoos during the golden hour before sunset. We needed to head back to town since our plan was to camp at Escalante State Park.
As we left the parking area, a light on the dashboard indicated a tire pressure issue. We stopped and checked the tires, sure that the offender would be the left front. I banged on the tires and they seemed fine. I jumped in and decided to proceed with all due haste toward Escalante. I turned onto Hole-in-the-Rock Road and drove as rapidly as seemed prudent. Probably 50 to 60 mph. We had 16 miles of dirt and probably another 10 on Rt. 12 before we made town. I was setting a pretty good pace so you can imagine my surprise when a white Dodge pickup appeared out of our dust trail and passed us! There was a dirt bike strapped in the bed of the truck as it was flying by. Musta been a Hemi.