Rogue’s Island: Last to Join the United States

U.S. Constitution

On 4 May 1776, Rhode Island became the first colony to declare independence from Great Britain and King George III.  The British army surrendered in 1781, and the U.S. Constitution was adopted in 1787.  Ironically, Rhode Island was amazingly slow to accept the Constitution.  It took the threat of federal action to get them to sign on May 29, 1790.  Why so slow?

1663 RI charter

Rhode Island’s Royal Charter of 1663 gave the colony unprecedented self-rule.  King Charles II had no reason to love the Puritans, who had beheaded his father and seized control of the English empire for nearly twenty years.  Rhode Island had been founded on freedom of religion.  Perhaps dismayed by the abuse of Quakers by New England’s Puritans, or perhaps in vengeance, Charles underscored that freedom in his charter:

King Charles II

“Our royal will and pleasure is, that no person within the said colony … shall be anyway molested, punished, disquieted, or called in question, for any differences in opinion in matters of religion … They shall have and enjoy the benefit of our late act of indemnity and free pardon, as the rest of our subjects in other our dominions and territories have; and to create and make them a body politic or corporate, with the powers and privileges hereinafter mentioned.”

The charter affirmed Rhode Island’s elections of governor and assistants, their right to defend themselves and their borders, and their right to fish, ship, plant, and build as they pleased.  Rhode Island also could “ship and transport all and all manner of goods, chattels, merchandises … yielding and paying unto Us, our heirs and successors, such the duties, customs and subsidies, as are or ought to be paid or payable for the same.”  All Rhode Islanders were assured free passage and trade with the other colonies.  No longer would New England’s Puritans be able to bar Quakers.

The 1777 U.S. Articles of Confederation was quickly signed by Rhode Island.  It bound the colonies together, but weakly.  Rhode Island, wary of dominance by more powerful states, must have liked the provision that “Each state retains its sovereignty, freedom, and independence."

George Washington at Trenton

Taxes would pay for the Revolution, but according to the Articles, “Expenditures by the United States of America will be paid by funds raised by state legislatures, and apportioned to the states based on the real property values of each.”  Tiny Rhode Island would not owe nearly the tax levied on Virginia or the other states.  Also, the Articles did not provide any means for compelling the states to provide revenue or troops.  George Washington said that the primary problem with the Articles of Confederation was “no money.”

With the Revolutionary War concluded, the United States Constitution was presented to the new country in 1787.  This document authorized a far stronger central government, and Rhode Island was not pleased.  The state hadn’t even sent representatives to the Constitutional Convention, because it wanted no part of a strong central government.

Enslaved Africans boarding ship

The state was independently wealthy.  Agriculture was important, but the real money came from the deep water harbors at Newport and Providence.  Rhode Island was the Triangle Trade’s American capitol, and sugar, rum, molasses, and trade goods flooded through the merchants’ hands.  Though Rhode Island law ordered gradual emancipation of enslaved blacks owned by its own citizens, that state’s merchants controlled 60 - 90% of the U.S. slave trade (1).

Taxes and duties were owed on these goods.  Great Britain wanted her share, but enforcement was lax, and much of it could be dodged by shady reporting.  After the Revolution, the United States’ government stepped up to demand import duties.

The new Constitution required that: “All Duties and Imposts, laid by any State on Imports or Exports, shall be for the Use of the Treasury of the United States; and all such Laws shall be subject to the Revision and Control of the Congress.”

Rhode Island and its merchants were strongly resistant to those import taxes, and refused to ratify the Constitution.  It took threats of taxing Rhode Island’s exports like a foreign countries’ – and a potential trade embargo and port blockade – to make the state reconsider.

Rhode Island presented a long list of proposed amendments and a bill of rights, including a provision that Congress shall not “lay direct taxes within this state,” but it finally ratified the Constitution on May 29, 1790.

My sources include:

 (1) http://www.slavenorth.com/rhodeisland.htm

A list of Rhode Island’s modifications to the Constitution:

       http://www.usconstitution.net/rat_ri.html

Images:

1) http://www.usconstitution.net/constkids4.html

2) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Charter_of_1663

3) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Charles_II_of_England

4) http://www.npg.si.edu/exh/gw/trenton.htm

5) http://www.reuters.com/article/2007/03/29/us-usa-slavery-brown-idUSN2831643920070329

6) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Us_constitution

Rhode Island: First to Rebel, Last to Sign

Declaration of Independence signing

Did you know that Rhode Island was the first North American colony to sever ties with Great Britain – two months before the Declaration of Independence was adopted on July 4^th, 1776?  However, Rhode Island was the last state to ratify the U.S. Constitution.  What’s up with that?

Roger Williams and Narragansetts

My immediate conclusion stemmed from the independent nature of Rhode Islanders.  The colony was settled by people who were either ejected from, or voluntarily abandoned Puritan Massachusetts after heated contention over – what else? – politics and religion.  Banished from Boston, Roger Williams beat it out of Salem ahead of the sheriff in 1636.  Anne Hutchinson, William Coddington, John Clarke and their compatriots comprised a mass exodus in 1638-39.  Religious and political tolerance were vital to these people.


Some of them had their idiosyncrasies.  Early Rhode Island was comprised of several towns circling Narragansett Bay, each led by charismatic leaders.  There were quarrels and dissension, but despite their ferocious independence, the various towns of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations united under a single government in 1647.

1663 Royal Charter

In 1663 King Charles II issued a new charter to Rhode Island.  The document reinforced Rhode Island’s freedom of religion, and granted them the ability to elect officers and enact laws – greater powers of self-rule than any other colony.

Gaspee burning

18^th century Newport and Providence prospered as seaports, and Rhode Island became the northwestern linchpin of the Triangle Trade.  The colony had a reputation for shady shipping practices, smuggling, and harboring pirates.  In 1764 Great Britain’s Sugar Act strengthened trade regulations and raised the duty that Rhode Islanders paid for their molasses.  Resentment grew, and in July 1769 the sloop Liberty was sunk and burned in Newport harbor.  The ship had once belonged to John Hancock, but was seized by British customs a year earlier because it was once used to smuggle wine (though apparently not by Hancock).  In 1772 the Gaspee, a British customs boat, went aground and was burned near Providence.

Boston Tea Party

Boston’s Tea Party was on December 16^th 1773.  In response, Great Britain’s Coercive Acts, known in America as the Intolerable Acts, soured relations further by closing Boston harbor until the tea was paid for, placing Massachusetts under direct royal governance, and quartering British troops in Boston homes.

The Intolerable Acts

On May 17^th 1774 Providence’s leaders called for a general congress to resist Great Britain’s punitive policies.  Rhode Island’s General Assembly responded by electing Stephen Hopkins and Samuel Ward as delegates to an anticipated Continental Congress.  Providence held its own Tea Party on March 2^nd 1775, and burned 300 pounds of India tea by “bringing in and casting into the fire, a needless herb, which for a long time has been detrimental to our liberty, interest, and health.”

A month later, after the battles at Concord and Lexington, Rhode Island’s government raised a navy of two ships, 24 cannons and swivel guns, crewed by 200 men.  At the same time, a 1500-man “army of observation” was also created, commanded by Nathaniel Greene.

Rhode Island state house

On May 4th in 1776, Rhode Island’s General Assembly met in the State House at Providence, and became the first American colony to renounce their allegiance to both Great Britain and King George III. Ten weeks later, on July 18, the Assembly ratified the Declaration of Independence.  Perhaps in an act of belated revenge, British forces invaded Newport in 1781, and seized the town’s land deeds, wills, and records.  The records were sunk in New York City harbor, creating endless frustration for historians and genealogists.

The British surrendered in 1781, and the U.S. Constitution was adopted in 1787.  Delaware was the first state to ratify the document in that year.  However, Rhode Island was slow to accept the Constitution, and did not sign until May 1790.  Why so slow?  I’ll get that post up soon!

Helpful links:

http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/rhode-island-declares-independence

http://www.usconstitution.net/rat_ri.html

http://ric.libguides.com/content.php?pid=133950&sid=1240751

Rhode Island’s 1663 charter: http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ri/state/richarter.html

Images:

John Trumbull’s Declaration of Independence: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trumbull%27s_Declaration_of_Independence

Roger Williams and the Narragansetts: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roger_Williams_%28theologian%29

1663 RI charter: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Charter_of_1663

Gaspee: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gasp%C3%A9e_Affair

Boston Tea Party: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_Tea_Party

The Rape of Boston: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intolerable_Acts

Modern old State House: http://www.rihphc.state.ri.us/

There be Witches Too Many

Witches in 1493

I recently had a book signing for my novel, Rebel Puritan, and I was asked whether my historical fiction is based in Salem during the witchcraft frenzy.  Though my novel takes place in 17^th-century New England, it occurs mostly in Rhode Island several decades before the Salem tragedy.  However, I get many such questions.

I am now writing the sequel to Rebel Puritan, and my real-life protagonist, Herodias Long, apparently lived until 1705.  I admit that I searched through Rhode Island’s records for a case of witchcraft to use in Herodias’ story.  After all, fine Salem witchcraft tales, such as Kathleen Kent’s The Heretics Daughter and The Afflicted Girls by Suzi Witten, have attracted many readers.  Why not borrow some for my sequel? 

Rhode Island let me down.  Though there was a 1647 death penalty for witchcraft in Rhode Island, there were no executions.  There was not a single trial.  Not even an accusation!

Bringing a witch to justice

Witchcraft is as old as humanity, but I confine this account to colonial New England.  The Pilgrims brought Europe’s beliefs with them, and when they wrote a code of laws in 1636, one of the five crimes for which a person would be put to death was “forming a solemn compact with the devil by way of witchcraft.”

Puritans arrived ten years after the Pilgrims, and they also had stern witchcraft laws.  In spring 1647 John Winthrop, governor of Massachusetts, wrote in his journal, “One ___ of Windsor [CT] was arraigned and executed at Hartford for a witch.”  One year later, three Massachusetts women were convicted and executed.  As John Palfrey wrote, “These cases appear to have excited no more attention than … any other felony, and no judicial record of them survives.”

A Puritan witch

Margaret Jones was one of the executed women, and Governor Winthrop described some of the deathly evidence against her.  She had a “malignant touch” and persons whom she “stroked or touched with any affection or displeasure … were taken with deafness, or vomiting, or other violent pains or sickness.”  She used herbal remedies such as aniseed, which should have been harmless, yet had “extraordinary violent effects.”  And thirdly, Margaret told people that if they did not use her remedies, they would never be healed, and her predictions often came true.  Considering that doctors of the day used such dubious ingredients as mercury and snails, and relied on bloodletting, it’s amazing that anyone survived.

John Josselyn’s book, New England’s Rarities Discovered, was published in 1672.  He comments that in the region “there be witches too many … that produce many strange apparitions if you will believe report.”  Notice the date: Josselyn’s book appeared two decades before the Salem witchcraft accusations.

Bridget Bishop's 1692 hanging

Witchcraft accusations, trials, and hangings occurred in the Puritan colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Hampshire on a near-yearly basis.  The accusations came to a horrific climax in 1692 when 160 persons were charged with witchcraft.  Nineteen were hanged, and one was crushed to death in a futile attempt to make him plead guilty.

It didn’t take much to be suspected.  In 1656 Ann Hibbins was hanged in Boston, Massachusetts as a witch (contrary to popular belief, witches were not burned in America).  She met a pair of neighbors, and accurately guessed that they were talking about her.  Incredibly, that was enough to get her tried and executed.

Ann Hibbins’ husband died a year before she was tried.  That alone imperiled Goodwife Hibbins.  A goodly proportion of accused witches were middle aged women or elderly widows.  Festering ill-will often broke to the surface after a quarrelsome woman’s husband died.

Accusers and accused: witchcraft was a peculiarly female provenance.  Out of 116 persons on a list of accused witches, 37 were male.  79 of them were women, most of them elderly or middle-aged. Witchcraft accusations gave women a public voice they rarely possessed.  They accused and gave depositions, and acted out their possessions in court.  Ministers, governors, and judges treated them with respect, sometimes with deadly results.

A Monstrous Birth

Puritans were superstitious folk, and they examined every unusual event for its divine meaning.  An earthquake, bad storm, or a deformed newborn was a sign that God was very displeased.  It was up to them to figure out why.  If a witch was the reason for God's wrath, she would be dispatched, and quickly.

In contrast, look at Rhode Island, which was not Puritan.  Though over 300 persons were accused of witchcraft in17^th century New England, only 3 of them were Rhode Island residents!!  Those three accusations weren’t even made in Rhode Island.

The 1640 accusation against Anne Hutchinson and two men of “Aquiday Island” widely cited online is merely a slanderous suspicion. John Winthrop, Massachusetts’ Puritan governor, wrote in his then-private journal that a Mr. Hales was so taken with Mrs. Hutchinson’s heresies that “it gave suspicion of witchcraft.”  If Rhode Island’s government was aware of Winthrop’s notion it took no notice.

So, why was Rhode Island immune to the witchcraft hysteria?  The people who lived there in the first 70 years were the same Englishmen who lived in Puritan Massachusetts and Connecticut.  They grew up with the same belief system and superstition brought over from England.  Where were Rhode Island’s accusations?

Anne Hutchinson's heresy trial

I suspect that the reason lies in Rhode Island’s origins.  Providence was first settled in 1636 by Roger Williams and a handful of followers who were ejected from Massachusetts as heretics and troublemakers.  In 1638-9 an influx of refugees arrived after Anne Hutchinson was convicted of heresy in Boston.  She was excommunicated and banished.  Several of her followers were also ejected, and many opted to escape Puritan persecution.  Nearly all went to Rhode Island, where they founded the towns of Portsmouth and Newport.

Rhode Islanders knew what it was like to experience baseless accusations and discrimination.  Tolerance was not just a notion – it was a way of life.  Quakers, Jews, Catholics, and Hugenots were welcomed in Rhode Island.  There certainly were disputes between neighbors in that tiny colony.  Thankfully they did not erupt into deadly accusations of witchcraft and Satan-worship.

Here is an incomplete list of witchcraft investigations from 1651 well into the 20^th century:

http://www.spelwerx.com/timeline1651_today.html

History of New England  John Palfrey 1878

The Witchcraft Delusion in Colonial Connecticut  John M. Taylor

Entertaining Satan  John Putnam Demos 1982

Images from:

1)      http://ebooks.library.cornell.edu/w/witch/

2)      http://www2.iath.virginia.edu/salem/generic.html

3)      http://www2.iath.virginia.edu/salem/generic.html

4)      http://womenshistory.about.com/od/salempeople/p/bridget_bishop.htm

5)      http://uh.edu/engines/epi603.htm

6)      http://www.buzzle.com/editorials/8-30-2006-107048.asp

A Modern Look at 17th-Century Boston

Here is a link to an article from Archeology Magazine about the unearthing of some of Boston's most significant sites, including the home of John Winthrop, Boston's first governor:

http://www.archaeology.org/online/features/boston/index.html

Boston in 1649

Winthrop's home was located on the main east-west road, almost due north of Corn Hill, to the left of the word "Boston." 

Modern Boston with Big Dig

To the right is a modern map of Boston, with the Big Dig shown (image from http://www.futureboston.org/mapoverlay.htm.  This image is rotated about 45 degrees from the 1649 map.  The leveling of Corn Hill and other Boston hills, and a great deal of wetlands fill has altered the outline of Boston's peninsula.  Winthrop's home was located near the lower/southeast end of the red Big Dig line which runs diagonally across the peninsula.

It's exciting to see such places as Winthrop's home come to light, after being buried for centuries by more recent development.

Seven Bad Decisions, and We Lived to Tell the Tale

1995 landslide at Zion NP

I have been totally jammed up with decisions about my Rebel Puritan ebook, so while I finish a post about New England witchcraft, here is a travel tale:

Our friend Jerry said we were crazy to take a road trip above the Arctic Circle in the Northwest Territories. “You could have broken down and been stuck for a week.”  Since then I learned that you don’t have to drive 24,000 miles to get stuck.  It can happen much closer to home.

Friday, April 14^th 1995:  This was an El Nino year, and southern Utah had 24” of rain by mid-April.  On the 14^th we learn that there is a huge landslide at Zion National Park.  A swath 200 yards wide dammed the Virgin River and buried the road.  When the river overtopped the earthslide, it tore out both the blockage and the road.

Smithsonian Butte, Utah

We come to Zion anyway, and head for a favorite primitive campsite on Smithsonian Butte.  It’s beautiful red-rock land, used by mountain bikers and ranchers.  The rugged access road climbs over 1,000’ from the Virgin River, most of it in a half-mile that leaves me holding my breath.  This Horrible Hill is narrow, rocky, and rutted, with a long drop on the passenger side.  Signs warn that the Smithsonian Butte road is impassable when wet.

Solar halo

The evening sky is the color of skim milk, and there are two glowing rings around the sun.  I have never seen two haloes before – or since.  Later I read that a halo is caused by ice crystals in the atmosphere.  Lots of ice; caused by loads of moisture and very cold air aloft.  One halo is a fairly good indicator that rain is on the way.  To me, it is very pretty, and no more than that.  Now I wish I’d taken a photograph.

Saturday:  We are overjoyed to find that hikers can take the temporary road into Zion’s inner canyon today.  Richard and I have never experienced Zion Canyon without constant vehicle noise (though private traffic is largely barred now).  The swollen river’s roar dominates the canyon, and reflects weirdly from roadside boulders.  Warblers, grosbeaks, and flycatchers are migrating, and their songs fill the air when we get away from the river.

Angels Landing

Richard and I promenade down the road, watching Angel’s Landing get closer.  He can't resist climbing to the top of the Landing, so we trade his down coat for my lighter sweatshirt, and off he goes.

At the base of Angel’s Landing I munch my lunch and watch for peregrine falcons.  The clouds are thickening and a few light sprinkles dot the road as I turn back.  A ranger on a bike tells me that I should head back quickly because the temporary road is washing out.  At the landslide I am instructed to stay near the cliff and don’t stop for anything.  It’s another half hour until Richard returns after his 12-mile hike, with a 2,500’ climb thrown in.

The forecast calls for rain over the weekend, but we carry plenty of food and water in our pickup camper, so let it rain!  It’s supposed to turn sunny and warm on Monday and stay that way for the rest of the week.  Believing that optimistic forecast was our 1^st bad decision, and we bounce up Horrible Hill to Smithsonian Butte.

About 10:00 pm we hear heavily amplified guitars and drums nearby.  Public lands are often used for target practice or loud parties, but this is the first garage band we’ve heard.  We joke for a while about the Rockville Rockers’ lack of talent, but if we want any sleep we must move.  A couple of miles deeper into the back country we find a level spot.  We can still hear the band, but we get to sleep as the first raindrops patter on the camper roof.

Sunday:  We stay in camp and I write several pages of manuscript for Rebel Puritan.  Despite the forecast of sun on Monday, it begins to rain late in the afternoon and continues most of the evening.  No problem – we stay warm and dry in our little camper.  This proves to be our 2nd bad decision: we didn’t leave when it started raining and we could still get down Horrible Hill.

Doesn't this look like fun?

Monday:  We wake to a surprise: 6” of snow.  I finally get up about 10:00 to build a snowman on the hood.  We spend much of the day under the quilts, working on respective writing projects.  The sky slowly clears and we dry our damp clothes on the hood.  By late afternoon the road is passable, but we decide to stay.  This is our 3^rd bad decision, and by evening we know it.  It rains while I cook spaghetti and hot tea, and continues through the night.  Now we are both anxious about getting out tomorrow, because the road surface will be more like Vaseline than mud.  Neither of us get much sleep.

Tuesday:  Though it stops raining before dawn, the sky is choked with by dark clouds.  Richard walks the quarter-mile to the road.  A couple of vehicles go by and he thinks we’ll have no trouble driving.  Now we make our 4^th bad decision: we decide to stay put because it’s supposed to be sunny for the rest of the week.

We have a NOAA weather radio, but can’t reach any station.  At 2:00 we idle the engine to charge the battery and listen to the only radio station we can reach; pop rock from St. George.  They have a new forecast – lots of rain and snow.  Really alarmed, we make bad decision #5 and decide to drive without checking the main road again.  We are fooled by the spur where we are parked, which is covered with bits of shale and quite drivable.

There are two ways to go when we get to the byway – Rockville is only 4 miles away, but we have the muddy Hill From Hell to navigate.  Not a great idea without a Sherman Tank.  The road south is a much longer drive – about 15 miles of gentle hills and flat sagebrush before we get to the paved highway – but it’s better than sliding off the Hill.

Our home for three days

We turn south and we fishtail through greasy mud.  Then we reach a dip where water has puddled, and the clay hasn’t dried out at all.  We slide uncontrollably to the low side of the road.  Putting branches under the tires for traction doesn’t help.  We aren’t dug in, but now we are stuck on a bad slant.

Now it’s clear that the “impassable when wet” signs are absolutely true.  The Hill From Hell is only one of the hazards on Smithsonian Butte; the other is fine volcanic clay that covers much of southern Utah.  It absorbs water like crazy and when saturated the locals describe it as axle grease or “slicker ‘n snot.”  At its worst, even 4WD vehicles come to a standstill

A local guy offers to pull us out, but this is our mistake #6.  His own truck can barely move, and he merely drags us 15-20’ further into the bog.  Our back tire slips over the edge of the road just as his improvised tow rope snaps.  Now only a blob of greasy clay the size of a watermelon keeps our truck from sliding down a 3’ embankment.

Our would-be savior offers to drive us out, but we decide to stay.  We have plenty of water and food, and don’t want to leave our truck to be stripped by looters.  He will come back in a couple of days to check on us, but casually mentions that he’s concerned about getting through “The Big Mudhole” ahead.  He will tell the BLM in St. George that we’re here, but there’s not much they can do, short of sending a helicopter.

With a folding Army shovel we dig water diversion channels around the truck.  The clay sticks to our feet in huge clods, and we stagger like drunks on ice skates.  The driving rain and sleet changes to snow; fat Christmas-card flakes which pile up fast.  The St. George pop station gives us another light and fluffy forecast.  A bit of rain today, but beautiful weather will arrive soon.  We also learn that they are selling tickets for a charity baseball game, and apparently don’t want to discourage fans.  We no longer believe the optimistic forecast and I cry while snow builds up on the windshield.

We stuff mud-caked footwear into bags and crawl into the camper, which slants footward at a ridiculous angle.  I build a shelf of laundry and spare clothing so I don’t roll down onto Richard.  We move cautiously, fearful that we could slide further off the road.  However, our last look out reveals stars among patchy clouds, and hope sends us to sleep.

Now this is fun - right?

Wednesday:  Richard finds a rock slab to use as a porch.  We stand on it to take off our boots, and stash our trash under a nearby bush to get it out of the way. Next we get the truck back onto the road.  While I hunt for flat rocks, Richard digs through the churned-up slime to drier, more solid ground. The clay won’t fall off the shovel so he scrapes it onto nearby bushes.  We shove sticks and rocks under the tires, then I drive and Richard pushes.  On the second try we get our rear tires on solid rock.  We build ramps, but only have enough rocks for a couple feet, so we drive, dig out the rocks, build more ramps, and drive again.  Soon we are back on the road and much more level.

Thursday:   It miraculously remains dry all night and we have a sunny morning.  The road is still very boggy where we have walked, but 30 yards ahead the surface is solid.  I tell Richard, “Hey, let’s get out of here now.”  He is oddly reluctant, and I argue that it’s insane to wait any longer.  But Richard’s back is sore, and he fears getting stuck in “The Big Mudhole” we heard about.

He won’t yield, and that’s probably the worst bad decision #7 of this entire debacle.  I wait in the front seat until time to turn the engine on and listen to the radio.  At 11:30 big gray clouds swoop in from the southeast, the ceiling lowers and a few big drips plop onto the windshield.  I grip the steering wheel as I stare ahead at the beckoning road.

The 12:30 forecast is horrifying.  The next major winter storm will get here this afternoon, with very dangerous conditions, especially in the high country – exactly where we are sitting.  The giggly DJ has “lost” the extended forecast but she’s sure the weather will be great on the weekend for the benefit baseball game.

I tearfully tell Richard that we are leaving now.  I can’t stay here another week and we’re getting low on water.  We decide to move a few feet to see how hard it will be to get out of the churned-up mess that surrounds us.  Out comes the shovel for more rock ramp work.  It’s drizzling, and there is heavy rain off to the north and east.

I drive, Richard pushes, and though we slither another inch toward the edge, we gain two feet and the road is getting firmer.  On our second try I find enough rocks to build roadway for both front and back tires.  We gain another three feet, and specially angled ramps move us another foot away from the edge.  Our third set of ramps reach the end of the slimy zone, and Richard cautions me to drive only to the end of the rocks.  However, one of the tires bounces over a rock and the truck lands rolling.  We effortlessly bound twenty feet toward freedom, as though our Ford is also anxious to get out of here.

We whoop in delight, collect shovel and trash stash, and heave the biggest rocks off the road.  I lived in upstate New York where 100” of snow is considered an “easy winter,” so with my bad-road experience, I do the driving.

At the crest of the first hill we look anxiously into the dip, wondering whether we can get through the puddle at the bottom.  Splash through easily, and on to the next dip.  The puddles get bigger but I get more confident, and barely pause for a look at the third dip.  We aren’t sure which is the true Big Mudhole, but it gives us no trouble.  This is getting to be fun!  Still, I am nervous enough that I’m sweating and ask Richard to dry my eyeglasses several times.

The last section of the road crosses a sagebrush plain, and proves to be the most treacherous part.  The truck fishtails like a fire hose with nobody holding it.  We stop at cattle guard with monstrous puddles on both ends.  A slip here could leave us hung up or bashed, and we want a good look before driving over.

4WD truck stops behind us, and the driver promises to pull us out if we get stuck.  There really is a bottom to the ponds on either side of the guard, but I slip and slide worse than ever trying to keep up with our savior.  I don’t want to lose him, no matter what!  Ahead we see the Promised Land; paved highway with cars and trucks rolling along free and easy.

Free at Last!

We finally hit pavement just as it starts pouring.  Behind us the sky is blanked out by hard rain.  If we had delayed another 30 minutes, we’d have been there another week, drinking muddy meltwater from the ditches.

People get stuck on Utah’s back roads all the time, sometimes with fatal outcomes.  While Richard and I were bemired on Smithsonian Butte we were uncomfortable, bored, annoyed, and occasionally frantic, but we were never in serious trouble.

Whenever we travel in the backcountry, we always carry eight gallons of water, enough canned food to last a couple of weeks, and our Army shovel proved invaluable in 1995.  We always have more than enough warm bedding and clothes.  But now Richard and I pay better attention to weather forecasts and don’t believe everything we hear, especially from radio stations trying to sell baseball tickets. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halo_%28optical_phenomenon%29

Photo Credits:

Personal photo collection

Halo - http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/halo