methane mishap

It's been almost a week since we left Vegas and arrived in St. George (southern Utah's biggest city). Oh my goodness! The gas alarm in our trailer just went off. I jumped up and turned around - utterly perplexed. Rik said "he cranked it up". Good to know that it works so well. So good, in fact, that it detected my fart. It was one of those silent ones...up until the alarm outed me (whoops ;) Ahh, that was classic.As I was saying, before the alarm went off: St. George (6 miles from the Arizona border and 2 hours from Las Vegas) is the one of the fastest growing cities in America. It is still relatively small (50,000+) but it's growing quickly - big influx of retirees and snowbirds. The city boasts year-round golf, 300 days of sunshine and a historic tabernacle (along with many Mormons). However, that's not why we're here...We're here for the rock. There's lots of it. In fact, it is affectionately called "the land of 1000 bolts". Although, I'm sure this number will grow as more walls are developed.The rock is magnificent and red. We're parked across from an awesome arch in the Red Cliffs Desert Reserve (RCDR). I wonder if anyone's developed routes out there. We've climbed once since we got here - spending most of our days and nights working. I go a bit bonkers sitting in front of the computer all day so I've been exploring. I've gone for 2 fun bike rides on a double track in the RCDR. A gradual, winding uphill one-way (with a few whoop-tie-dos) makes for an exhilarating ride back down. Unfortunately, my front tire got multiple puncture wounds. Fortunately, as this is my second flat in 2 months, I'm getting ample practice with patching and repairing bike tires.I went for a walk the other night into the mobile home community next to our park. It's a neat little community with miniature stop-signs. I like walking at night because I feel sneaky. I came across the Harrisburg cemetery and dared myself to go in. I walked past a bull's skull (a nice touch) and in through the open gate. I'm not too keen on cemeteries, and I discovered that my discomfort quadruples in the dark. Luckily, I brought my headlamp. I turned it on to read a headstone...1865...Wow, this guy was really dead. I turned my headlamp off for fear that someone might spot me and think that I was up to no good. Really...who wanders through cemeteries at night besides ghouls and grave diggers?I stood alone in the dark and a bunch of dead people. I didn't want to be there but I figured that this was a good sign that I should stay a while longer. It was like meditation - instead of giving in to my fear and discomfort - I stayed. It's amazing what terrifying things my brain will conjure up with all the right ingredients. A ghost laid its hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw nothing. I decided to finish my spooky tour. I stepped cautiously - as to not fall into a freshly dug grave.