I had never been to Moab, Utah before; the only real experience I’ve had in Utah has been growing up skiing in Salt Lake, learning how to ski with my dad. He took me to Alta, Park City, and Snowbird on different occasions. I can out ski him now, but that wasn’t the case for a very long time.
My experiences in the desert and canyonlands have been few. The most memorable trip I’ve done in a desert like terrain was when I backpacked in the Badlands of South Dakota where the last known Ghost Dance of the Sioux took place. We had to get special permission to hike down into that area from a local elder. It was one of those trips where I felt the magic of Mother Earth and I still think of that trip when I ponder my love for backpacking. Maybe it’s another post for another time! We really were the only people in that area for miles and miles and miles.
Funny too because this trip in the desert was with that same childhood friend, Cathleen. Despite that awesomeness, which is its own kind of beauty, my images from our trip this round speak for themselves. Traveling over Memorial Day weekend, I can’t say we found the same solitude in Arches National Park, but we did grab some in Hunter Canyon.