She’d learned the simple caution of bringing all valuables with her. Before this trip, she’d been delighted when, while shopping at Macy’s in Queens, she’d found a turquoise vinyl purse and matching tote bag carryall. The color of the bags shouted “Southwest” to her. Once her transfer was completed Pam got out of the passenger seat and checked the tote bag for any missing items. Only a small umbrella, a relic of their years of hiking in England, remained in the bag.

She looked up at the very vibrantly blue sky overhead. Only a few high, wispy white clouds hung in the west. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a red pickup truck pull into the far end of the parking lot with two guys inside the cab. She threw the tote bag into the trunk, wondering why she’d even brought the umbrella. She’d never needed it the times they came out to the West. Perhaps it was time to shed this item for good.

Shouldering their packs, Pam and Jake headed up to the trailhead. There were two choices: the steep Frey Trail, original path of descent into the canyon before the NPS road was built, and the level Tyuonyi Overlook Trail. The latter was their choice this morning. Pam’s knees were hurting a bit and they wanted to make time in the late afternoon to soak in the hotel hot tub. Big bunnies loped away as they started on the overlook trail. Pam decided they’d made a good choice as they paralleled the Frey Trail start; there would be no shade from the sun for most of the path down.

There hadn’t been much rain lately, so the trail proved to be rather dusty. Juniper bushes sent out a soft scent, undercut by piñon. Most of the spring flowers had already bloomed. Some small archaeological sites caused them to halt and contemplate the remnants of walls and room outlines. Pam smiled at their appearance, a reminder of her college years working salvage archeology in upstate New York during the summers. They found the end of the trail after a while, dawdling to eat and drink on an outcrop of rocks. Tyuonyi Canyon looked warm with a noontime sun overhead. A ranger led a group of Boy Scouts out toward the cave. A handful of older adults were heading down the horse trail from the back of the canyon while others toiled up the zig-zag. Pam grinned again, remembering how they’d lingered at the top one late afternoon on their last visit and heard that most hauntingly alarming of wild calls, the doleful howls of a pack of coyotes.

When Jake uncovered a nest of fire ants, the idyll was definitely over. They sauntered back the way they’d come in, stopping periodically to catch breezes running through the trees. Somehow the same sense of vigilance beset them as they emerged into the now empty parking lot. Warily, they approached their rental car. The passenger window had been jimmied, along with the trunk lock. Their sneakers and socks, located on the floor of the backseat were untouched. Only the turquoise tote and umbrella were gone. Pam thought with pleasure how disappointed the thieves, probably the guys in the pickup truck, had been. But she wanted that tote bag!