Last month, some friends invited us to join them for a two-day “company retreat” at Daniels Summit. We did this very thing a couple of years ago with this very group and it was very amusing. So we kindly accepted the invitation again. We are, after all, the embodiment of kindness.
What a bunch of liars!
The first evening, I cooked homemade chili and cornbread for everyone’s dinner. After eating, we played games, or one game rather, until the wee hours. Avalon, which involves a lot of social manipulation (AKA lying), was that game. Some members of our group were rotten, no-good liars. Really, they couldn’t lie to save their lives… or Merlin’s.
This trick jolted Jason; he only did it once.
Cindy dared to fly.
We spent most of the next day snowmobiling. The snow was plentiful but the temperatures were a bit too toasty for winter layers and the surface oscillated from slush to ice as the day progressed. Still, all things considered, it was first rate, meaning I didn’t hit a tree this time.
Just off the trail, many tempting meadows awaited.
Cam also rocked the two-legger.
Our snowmobiling destination was a peak that bestowed a 10,000-foot view of the Wasatch Range and its lowly valleys. We made it there despite endless sidetracking. Elevating!
What a range!
I used to be a wild snowmobiler but a tree talked some sense into me.
That night, after socializing around a raclette dinner, we played Avalon again until we were too tired and slaphappy to keep our deceits straight. Of course, some of our group couldn’t do that even if they’d just been rejuvenated by a six-month coma.
I started to transform into a unicorn after snowmobiling all day thanks to my helmet confronting my vast forehead without the mediation of a skullcap, which it was too hot to wear.
Daniels Summit may not have provided ample snoozing opportunities but it did offer chances to practice good life skills like story fabricating and slush sailing. Many thanks to the knife clan for allowing us to join the fun. We were more than happy to keep you company even though we aren’t part of your company… did I mention that Jason and I are the embodiment of kindness?
Our next two days in Moab, we focused on the Island in the Sky District of Canyonlands National Park. We have been to Island in the Sky many times. Its sandstone cliffs, which hover 1,000 feet above the adjacent landscape, are a spectacular spot from which to appreciate the immensity of the wild sea of chasms that envelops the Colorado and Green Rivers, a sea that has been carved out by water and wind over eons.
You can’t appreciate the 1000-foot plunge Jason jumped over to get to this rock but I sure can.
At Island in the Sky, you are almost always near one sheer drop or another.
Speaking of water and wind, our first day in Canyonlands that disorderly duo was eager to carve what it could out of us. But we didn’t let the 20-25 MPH drafts and downpour gambles stop us from exploring and enjoying.
The magnitude of the White Rim was humbling, especially considering the thousands of years represented by each etch.
The scenery at the White Rim Overlook just didn’t quit.
We first trekked out to the White Rim Overlook, just a 1.8-mile ramble on pretty level ground. The payoff for that small bit of effort was huge. This viewpoint looked down on nearly 360 degrees of canyon splendor topped with a radiant crown of salty white, the White Rim. Salt is quite flavorsome but not usually enthralling.
Murphy Point, as you can see, offered amazing views.
With storm clouds like that overhead, we tested whether Murphy’s law has greater sway at Murphy Point.
Next, we made the 3.6-mile journey out to Murphy Point and back. Murphy Point, which faces Candlestick Tower and sections of the Green River and White Rim Road, had a remarkable backdrop of its own but both Jason and I agree that the White Rim Overlook overlooked better scenery.
Ascending Aztec Butte required some creative climbing.
Our last hike of the day was a 2-mile jaunt to the top of Aztec Butte with a detour to an adjacent butte to see two Anasazi granaries. Aztec Butte, from its base, looks like an insurmountable wall of warped stone but we, like many before us, successfully scrambled up its sharp 200-foot slope in order to partake of the uninterrupted panorama at its flat top. The other points of interest on this route, the Anasazi granaries, have been preserved in the alcoves of a sandstone rim for almost a thousand years, tangible echoes of a voice that has been silent a millennium. Great hike!
Aztec Butte provided diversions galore in the form of vibrant colors, unusual shapes, and twisted textures.
When you catch the sky doing this, you just thank the gods of photography and start shooting.
The next day, we stopped at a new dinosaur tracks museum, Moab Giants, before heading to Canyonlands again. The area around Moab is covered with an unusual amount of dinosaur tracks so it is a very fitting place for the only tracks museum in the world. We spent a couple hours learning about tracks and wandering among 100 life-size ancient beasts on Giants’ half-mile trail. Who wouldn’t fancy running from a T. rex? (Dang it, why didn’t I remember to bring my high heels?) It was awesome.
That was some pretty delicious pretend corn.
Jason found some new friends at a meet and eat.
The last trail we hit in Canyonlands before returning home was Neck Spring, a 5.8-mile loop that curled through ever-changing terrain and cattle ranching remnants. We didn’t see a single soul while we were on this path. Most excellent! Plus, the mix of extreme drops, decaying troughs, and meandering springs made the journey pleasantly distracting.
I too discovered a few buddies at Moab Giants.
There comes a time in every man’s life when he needs to run from a T. rex.
We had a great time in Moab but we always do. If we didn’t, it would be our own dumb fault.
If you came across this post as the result of a search your mom would be ashamed of, you are in the wrong spot. The only perfectly-rounded boulders you’ll find here are older than the dinosaurs, literally.
We rode through a valley that seemed nearly forgotten by mankind.
Jason and I recently celebrated the end of another school semester by heading down to Moab, our favorite weekend getaway spot. Even though I popped one of my ribs out snowboarding just hours before we started for Moab and was in a decent amount of pain, we didn’t alter our plans because of my discomfort. (Snowboarding aggravates my ribs often, a fact I stubbornly ignore.)
Our path didn’t cross slickrock too often but it did offer a sampling of rock candy.
Rock ledges find you when you’re in Moab but that’s usually a good thing.
We decided to do a 20-mile bike ride to Prostitute Butte our first day in Moab. Yup, you read that right. We rode that stony lady all day long. (I didn’t name it; I just wrote it.)
Part of this journey went along a trail shared with ATVs. As it turns out, there are a lot of idiots that drive ATVs. As it also turns out, I am not actually a fan of idiots. We had clouds of dust flung into our faces by drivers that refused to be courteous and slow down as they passed us. Plus, I had the super pleasant experience of almost getting run over by an ATV that was going wildly fast around a blind curve. Yup, idiots. To be fair, I feel I must mention that we also had a few ATV drivers stop and inquire if we had enough water and whatnot before they continued past us. So there are some civil off-roaders out there.
Frolicking cows had mucked up a large portion of our path, making for a bumpy ride.
Although we had some run-ins with the moronic cavalcade, much of our path was completely devoid of people. Some parts clearly hadn’t seen any riders in weeks, maybe longer. Yup, the only morons in those sections were the ones we brought with us. It was delicious solitude after the gritty ATV stampede.
I can’t say I have much experience with prostitutes but I’m pretty sure they don’t generally look like that.
Prostitute Butte wasn’t exactly what we expected. I thought this scandalously-named outcropping would at least remotely resemble a human form, perhaps even contain some soft feminine curves. Instead, it looked like a misshapen worm. Moab must have experienced some pretty wild days in its past for someone to look at that big block of rock and decide that it resembled a lady of the night. I sure didn’t see the similarity.
Pritchett Arch forms a gap in Prostitute’s upper recesses.
Like any enigmatic woman, Prostitute held a few secrets. She concealed Pritchett Arch and Picture Frame Arch in her ample sandstone folds. They made her hulking structure more stimulating.
Picture Frame Arch is uncommonly angular for an arch.
We ended up taking a shortcut on our return journey because daylight was fading fast. This reduced the length of our expedition to a mere 17.5 miles, which, frankly, felt like plenty with all the sand traps, faded trails, and ATVs we’d encountered.
This is a very flattering picture capturing the second time I had to dump heaps of sand out of my shoes within a 30-minute interval.
Next week, our treks in Canyonlands National Park and altercations with Moab’s giants will be covered. Get ready to be amazed or completely bored, one of the two.
Recent Comments