Over the weekend I risked life and limb in the name of fun because that is the Utah summer way.

Or at least that’s the Utah summer way according to the very fun and very adventurous friends who continue inviting me to southern Utah for hikes where the red rock landscapes are breathtaking and the terrain is slick sandstone and one wrong move means instant death.

Honestly, I’m surprised they invited me again this year after I was VERY dramatic about completing The Subway last June. I was assured that this year’s hike in Coyote Gulch was much less canyoneering and much more traditional hiking with “just one steep incline at the end.”

Coyote Gulch is in the heart of Escalante’s canyon country, in south-central Utah, which, for my money, is the most beautiful part of our great state. There’s something about driving a hilly highway through a lush desert landscape while cattle graze on either side of the road that feels completely whimsical. Like it’s a location that should only exist in cinema.

For dinner we stopped at Hell’s Backbone Grill, one of Utah’s most renowned culinary destinations. The restaurant has been selected as a James Beard Award semifinalist and finalist, and deemed the best restaurant in southern Utah by a number of publications. For good reason. The food is locally sourced and fresh and the setting, next to their farm, cannot be beat.

If I’m being completely honest I was hoping that after dinner we’d all decide that dinner on the patio had been worth the three hour drive and provided the outdoorsyness for which the group seemed to year, and that we should spend the next day lounging about, perhaps enjoying a spa, taking in the scenery from a temperature-controlled room with cucumber water on tap.

But that is not what happened. Instead we went to bed and woke up at FIVE O’CLOCK. IN THE MORNING. We left our accommodations at FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING and began the drive to the Crack-in-the-wall trailhead, only a portion of which was paved and the rest was sand.

The hike itself, or at least the way we did it, was 12ish miles through an initial slot canyon, in the gulch along the tributary, around a number of waterfalls, under two arches and a natural bridge, and up and over petrified dunes.

We started actually hiking at 7 a.m., and though sandier than most terrain I’ve traversed, there wasn’t anything especially difficult about the first couple of miles. Then we reached the titular crack in the wall, and I learned we were meant to drop down into it. Which I had no idea how to do, but successfully imitated the people who went ahead of me.

Then, once we arrived at the gulch, we spent the next eight or so miles trudging in and out of water which was honestly not as terrible as it sounds. Or maybe it was terrible but I just didn’t notice because the scenery was so lovely and the wildlife was so fun to observe. Birds and toads and lizards punctuated our path as we enjoyed the shade of the tall canyon walls.

Our ultimate destination was the Jacob Hamblin Arch, which simply must be seen to be believed and numbers among the most spectacular natural wonders I’ve been fortunate enough to witness. It was well worth the 10-mile hike.

But then we had to get out of the gulch. And it was then that I learned I don’t actually understand what 45% means in practice. I thought I knew what a 45% incline looked like, but I swear when I saw the alleged 45%, it looked more like 150%.

I watched some of the seasoned climbers in our group scamper up the cliff side like they were possessed mountain goats, and then I was handed the rope and instructed to make my way up. Which I did. With remarkable speed. Because I was terrified.

It turns out that the cliche “Don’t look down” exists for a reason. About halfway up the rock I looked behind to see if other hikers were approaching, and when I did I saw just how far I would fall if the rope slipped. Survival seemed impossible. So I skedaddled, with the strength and speed of a Bornean Orangutan up the rope until I hit high, flat ground. Because I guess fear is what really motivates me to accomplish physical feats. During my next race I might pay someone to chase me with a knife so I can finally get that PR I’ve been seeking

The next two miles were a monotonous up and down over solidified sand and just when I said I was ready to lay down and die, we turned a corner and saw the parking lot. I do believe there is no sight more beautiful, not even the Jacob Hamblin Arch, than the parking lot at the end of the hike. When (if) I get to heaven, I bet it will feel the same as seeing your Subaru parked in the shade at a trailhead, knowing an icy Diet Coke waits within.

As soon as we reached our vehicles and I was able to remove my muddy socks and put on sandals I had already forgotten the trials and tribulations of half an hour ago. I was ready to declare it the best day ever. Just like I said about last year’s adventure.

Can’t wait for next year’s hike.

CHEYENNE — Patricia Miller was helping another customer when a smooth-talking gentleman came in and quickly grabbed some crystals that he said were a gift for his mom. 

“He was trying to small talk with me about how wonderful of a person he was, because he’s getting them for her,” Miller told Cowboy State Daily. “And he’s going to print out information about each one of them, and all this other stuff.”

Miller thought that was sweet and said so, but what happened next was anything but sweet.

“He handed me this $100 bill, and I could feel that something was different,” she said. “And I was looking at it, and I’m like, ‘Well, maybe it’s old?’”

That prompted the man to helpfully add that the bill was from 1996.

That’s when things clicked for Miller.

“Like, who knows what year the bill is that you’re handing a cashier?” she said. “So that’s what really triggered my mind to be like, ‘Oh my gosh, this is counterfeit.’”

Not wanting to falsely accuse the man — or ignite a confrontation — Miller took a different tack. 

“I said to him, ‘I”m sorry, but I don’t have change for this. You’re going to have to maybe get change and come back. Do you have anything smaller?’” Miller said. “And he said, ‘No, I’ll go to Bomgaars and get change.’”

The man never returned for his items. 

Later, looking at the store’s video surveillance, Miller saw the man had several recognizable bags with him. When she visited those other stores, it confirmed her suspicion that the $100 bill had been fake. 

The same man with the same story and multiple copies of the same $100 bill, all sharing the same serial number, had hit all of the stores.

Same Serial Number All Over Town

Miller’s social media post about the experience drew jeers from some skeptical online commenters who accused her of overreacting. 

She posted the bill so others would know what was happening, to prevent anyone from getting duped.

A manager at a discount store on South Greeley Highway in Cheyenne, who asked that her store not be named for corporate reasons, confirmed she’d encountered both the same man and the same $100 bill as Miller. 

The man came to the store on South Greeley between the hours of 3:30 and 4 p.m., she said, trying to buy some baby wipes and a gallon jug of water with the $100 — a classic, small-purchase, big-change tactic.

The cashier felt something was off with the bill, but couldn’t identify what. She used a traditional counterfeit detector pen. If the iodine ink, which reacts with starches in standard, wood-pulp paper, remains black, that’s supposed to indicate that a bill is real. 

But the manager has learned a different trick to identify counterfeits lately. 

“I swabbed it with rubbing alcohol, and the ink smudged,” she said. “So I told him it was fake and we were not going to accept it.”

When the cashier told the man the bill was fake, he said, “Keep it,” and walked out, by then visibly trying to hide his face from the camera.

“That confirms to me that it was fake,” the manager said. 

The bill has been turned over to Laramie County Sheriff’s Office for further investigation.

Bleached Bills Fool Counterfeit Pens

The discount store manager said counterfeiters have come up with a smart strategy to fool the traditional iodine counterfeit detector pens.

What they do is bleach a $1 bill, and then print a $100 bill over the top of it. Because it’s genuine currency paper, the iodine pens won’t catch that the bill is fake. 

“The counterfeit pens are garbage,” the manager said. “You can write on that and it won’t catch it because it is in fact money paper, just not the right denomination.”

She prefers that her employees use rubbing alcohol to test the ink. If it smudges, that’s a huge red flag.

She also has them hold the bill up to the light, to look for water marks and other security features that $100 bills have that $1 bills do not.

The last check is the texture of the bill itself, which is slightly changed by the bleaching process. 

“When we held it up, it did not have a water mark in it,” she said. “It did not have a face in it, and I felt no texture on the bill itself.”

A Prop Money In Riverton

In Riverton, meanwhile, funny money has taken a slightly different tack, with Hollywood-style prop bills circulating around town.

At Blossoms and Boba Cafe, owner Jesica Fritz told Cowboy State Daily a group of children roughly ages 10-13 came in for a shopping spree with what they thought was a genuine $100 bill, given to them by a friendly stranger who had encouraged them to spend all of the money in one place. 

“One of the girls who works for us thought it was real at first,” Fritz said. “It did look very realistic, unless you read it and looked closely at it.

“The other girl, my daughter, was like, ‘No, absolutely this is not real. Look, it doesn’t even say, ‘In God we trust.”

Instead the bill said, “In Prop we Trust,” and elsewhere, in tiny fine print, it identified the money as a film prop, not for legal tender.

Fritz said her cafe does use counterfeit detection pens and also trains staff to hold bills up to make sure the paper shimmers correctly, and to look closely at fine print and seals.

“If you’re slammed and super busy and someone just hands one of these to you, I can totally understand why some people would take it as regular money,” she said. “It looks very realistic.”

The children had already paid for their Boba teas before trying to use the fake $100 for extra items. When told the bill wasn’t real, they were crestfallen, but cooperative.

“The kids legitimately believed they had real money, and were super stoked about it,” Fritz said. 

Staying Ahead Of Funny Money

Fritz turned the bill over to the Riverton Police Department. 

The department did not return Cowboy State Daily’s request for comment, but Fritz said they told her that several other businesses in town had also seen prop money circulating.

Cheyenne police, meanwhile, said it has seven reports of counterfeit bills being passed around at local businesses so far this year. 

“The counterfeit bills we encounter the most are $20 and $100 denominations,” said department spokeswoman Alexandra Farkas. “Many of the fake $100 bills are novelty bills intended for film production and are marked with the phrase, ‘For Motion Picture Purposes.’”

That can be easy to overlook during a busy transaction, Farkas acknowledged.

“If counterfeit currency is seized and is not associated with an active local investigation, our Property and Evidence Division will send it to the U.S. Secret Service for further investigation,” she said. “For more information about identifying counterfeit bills, the Secret Service offers educational resources online at www.secretservice.gov.”

By policy, businesses are supposed to try to retain suspicious bills and turn them over to police. But both Miller and the discount store manager admitted they considered their own personal safety first and foremost. 

Renée Jean can be reached at renee@cowboystatedaily.com.