Leaving Logan for Canyonlands

May 14, 2012
On the Road - Logan, Utah, to Canyonlands National Park

3 AM came quickly. We left around 4 that Monday morning in May, departing from the generous arms of Melody's folks and the kisses of our flamboyant little dog Hero with a tall thermos full of coffee and our 2-door sedan packed full. Whatever we perceived we might possibly need in the ensuing months sat just behind us: swimsuits, puffy jackets, pretzels, a bow-tie for him, lots of books, lots of socks, extra batteries and memory cards for the camera, head lamps, beef jerky, blank journals, high-heels for her, soap, etc, etc. We picked up some ice cream. Vacation had officially begun.

My trusty sidekick was merciful enough to take the wheel for the first of many hours of flight from the green, snow-capped mountains of the Wasatch to the red rock of the deserts of Moab.  NPR permeated my dreams. As the daily news was recited and repeated to my sleeping but observant mind, I was left with the impression, like a memory, of this day in the life of the world.  When the time came to switch roles at the helm, we stopped and filled up the tank and bought more water.  The scenery had switched over to a dull, treeless brown highlighted by dry, yellow underbrush and mesas in the distance.  But quickly the road curved south and my excitement shifted upward alongside the gradient of colorful red rock, and we drove deeper  into the land of carved canyons and high arches, sculpted by prehistoric rivers and seas of ages.

Thirty miles outside of Moab we waited. There was construction. Jeeps, RVs, ATVs, ladder-lined work trucks, sports cars, SUVs, vans and motorcycles passed on our left heading in the direction from where we had just come. The heat of the sun passed through the glass and a cool breeze entered through the open windows. We drank water. The line filled in behind us and went on for days. The worker with the stop sign looked like he was getting antsy, like he wanted to flip it and let us go. All the people in the cars waited together: to go to work, to buy a puppy, to buy paint to coat the shed, to travel 3 'towns' over for a particular flavor of Ben & Jerry's, to move, to run away... 

We sat and waited to walk, walk until we found water and then pitch a tent.

-Grasshopper & Sugar Glider