Epiphany 2.0

Second note to self: you are a city girl. Doesn’t matter that you grew up in a small town, know how to build an A-frame fire and have a level 5 river canoeing certification (okay, expired, but anyway). You’re a soft pampered child of modern technology and God help you if the Apocalypse comes anytime soon and you survive it. Because you’re not going to handle it as well as Tina Turner, that’s for sure.

Well. Day 2 was interesting, to say the least. I should’ve known there would be problems when I overslept. I had to be at the Totsonii Ranch by 9 a.m.; woke up at 8. Jumped up, scrambled into clothes, performed a rough-guide toilette, shot through the breakfast buffet at the speed of light, and then started out for the ranch. After a drive down the longest, meanest dirt road in creation — for which my compact-size rental car was most assuredly NOT adequate — arrived at the ranch, which was little more than a barn and paddock full of horses. Some of the horses wandered around outside the paddock, too, pretty much free to roam wherever they wished. Several had colts (squee!), which boldly came up to the gate to be petted while their mothers looked on more warily. I was freezing; the temp was 51 degrees but a biting wind was blowing. Still, I barely noticed, I was so excited. The farm hand gave me a saddlebag to take the place of my backpack. I was to ride a beautiful creature called “Blackie”, who was, uh, black. He (wasn’t sure of his gender at first, then he treated me to an impressive display of his equipment) was a sweetie. I’d brought an apple, but he wasn’t interested in that. Did scarf up a granola bar, though. The farm hand got him saddled for me, and I got up on him to test things out, and then our guides arrived. Found out the full 8-hour tour wouldn’t be available; the region recently had some unseasonable snow, which has caused flooding in the canyon, and the far end of the canyon is now inaccessible unless I wanted to get really wet. Given that I was already cold, I said no. So we prepared to do the 4-hour tour instead, which would at least go to Spider Rock. Then we discussed payment, and I realized what I’d never thought to ask — they accepted cash only. Or checks, but I never carry around checks in these debit/check card days.

No problem, I thought. I’d just go back into town, get some cash, and come back at 2 in time to do the 4-hour ride. Might do a second 4-hour ride the next day to catch what I missed the first time around. The guides (including Levi, a real hottie who I was very much looking forward to having as a guide) were nice about it, and we made all the arrangements. So I left.

Things went downhill from here.

Got into town, went to an ATM, and realized I couldn’t find my debit/check card. Panicked. Retraced my mental steps and realized the last time I’d used it was in Boston. At the ATM. Where I suspect I left it.

Stayed calm. Tried to call the bank, but of course my cell doesn’t work out here. So I had to go back to the hotel, where I called the number of my Bank of America credit card and asked them to connect me to the people in charge of the checking accounts. They did. Took 20 minutes for me to realize that the reason they couldn’t find any data about my account was because the frakwits had connected me to the BoA in California, which has no connection to the BoA in Massachusetts, go figure. So asked them to connect me to the BoA in MA. They did, and the phone line went dead. Tried again; ditto. I called the front desk to report the problem. “Oh, yeah, that happens out here from time to time. Just give it awhile.”

Stayed calm. Went online and tried to access the BoA website, in hopes that I could report the missing card there, or at least find out the location of a nearby BoA, where even without my card I could withdraw money from my account. But apparently neither was possible on the BoA website.

Began to lose a little calm. Tried the phone again. Got through, reported the card missing, ordered a new one. Progress! Then went to the website again to check the balance on my BoA credit card (unaffiliated with my debit card, or so I thought) so that I could do a cash advance. Surprise! BoA FROZE MY ENTIRE ACCOUNT. Credit card, bank account, savings account, everything. I called back; turns out it’s standard procedure whenever a card is reported missing. Now the only way I could get money was to go to a BoA location.

Fine, I said. Where was the nearest? After 20 minutes of searching, the customer service rep told me: 1.5 hours away, in Gallup, New Mexico. Closes at 1. The time when I hung up the phone? 11:30.

Lost substantial calm. To the Batmobile much-abused rental car!

1.25 hours later, reached Gallup. COULDN’T FIND THE BANK. Finally arrived there at 1… only to find they’d locked the doors. I tried pleading through the door, looking hangdog, etc.; they didn’t even glance my way.

Calm shattered entirely. Threw a small tantrum on the steps of the bank, before realizing that could get me shot or something.

At this point it was 1:30. My cell still didn’t work even in the relatively large town of Gallup, which told me the problem was T-Mobile — clearly they just don’t have service out here. So I found a McDonalds and called the Totsonii Ranch to tell them I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time.

So stopped and had lunch (not at McDonalds). On the way back, contemplated the situation. I had about $100 cash on me, plus one credit card unaffiliated with BoA which I keep for emergencies, but for which I’d never bothered to get a PIN number (yes, I kicked myself about that many times). No way to get more cash without going to some kind of bank or financial institution, and of course there were none of those open on a weekend in a three-state radius. So… no horseback tour.

I almost cried.

Didn’t cry, but did sulk. Got back towards evening, headachy and tired, and went to my room, where I napped and lay around and generally moped for a few hours. Finally pulled myself together and went down to the front desk to inquire about other forms of touring the canyon — forms which hopefully accepted credit cards. Luck! The folks with Canyon de Chelly Tours ran tours on a daily basis. I had a choice of Unimog or jeep. (”What’s a Unimog?” I asked. “They call them ‘Shake and Bake’ trucks,” the clerk responded. “I’ll take the jeep tour, please,” I replied.) So set things up for a Sunday half-day tour.

At that point, however, I was beginning to feel weird. Headachy, queasy, sore and achy in various spots. I went to the hotel shop and asked about aspirin or Pepto or other drugs of the sort; they didn’t sell any. (This flummoxed me.) Too tired and sick-feeling to contemplate going into town to search for drugs, I returned to my room and ordered room service for dinner even though I wasn’t very hungry. Ate a little, then promptly went to the bathroom and spent several long unpleasant minutes trying to figure out whether it was going to stay in me. It did, but nothing I’d eaten earlier did; thereafter I spent much of the rest of the night in the bathroom. The deluge finally ended around 2 a.m., after which I gratefully fell asleep.

The best I can figure is either mild food poisoning (the fast food I’d had the day before, maybe) or a reaction to the elevation (we’re 7000 feet above sea level here), or both. The headache is almost surely due to the elevation; I had one like this the first day I was here, but had Tylenol then. This time I had no choice but to endure.

Anyway. Saturday: not a good day.

Hopefully Day 3 will be better.