I’d been wanting to experience winter in the desert for some time, unable to shake the images of snow blanketed sandstone from my mind.  I desired to experience the rich blue tint of the sky and the bright white snow against the burnt orange colors of the sandstone with brilliant greens of juniper, piñon, and sage. The thoughts pulled too hard to keep me away and finally, in January, Christina and I committed to the idea – we would spend as many consecutive weekends as possible in the southern Utah desert.  At least until we had decided that it was either too cold to go, or that we had finally seen enough of an area. To our surprise, 19⁰F wasn't too cold and we never grew tired of the places that we visited. Each place that we visited would crack open the door enough to reveal another area that we couldn't wait to explore next.  And so it went, for 12 consecutive weekends! 

We quickly settled into a rhythm of picking an area, planning a route, packing Dolores with food, water and fuel and getting on the road as soon as we could at the end of our work week. Occasionally we would take a day off on either side of our weekend to reach areas just a bit further from where we would normally play or to spend an extra day and night in an area that tugged at our imagination that extra little bit.  As the weeks passed, this rhythm became second nature to us. 

On the last day of our weekend, we’d leave camp, air the tires back up, jump onto pavement and point Dolores in the direction of home. Often within an hour of departing camp, inspired by the places that we had just left, we’d turn to each other with a mischievous smile and ask, “...so where are we going next weekend?!...”  

Sometimes the answer to that question came quickly and easily. However there were plenty of occasions where Friday morning would roll around and we still hadn’t settled on a destination, overwhelmed by all the places we wanted to go.  We only knew that we’d be jumping in the truck and heading west.  Many last minute decisions were made this way – cruising down the highway, scouring maps until we made up our minds. 

The activities of each weekend would vary, but mostly consisted of “desert adventure wandering”. Some weekends we would find ourselves perched on prominent sandstone buttes with expansive views overlooking canyons, rivers, and the folded landscape stretching out in front of us.  We’d sit and be still in these places, finding that these vast expanses allowed us a rejuvenating break from the whirlwind of our busy work lives.  Some weekends we’d wind our way down into valleys, following long washes that led into deep canyons, scampering down through sharply carved sedimentary layers as we followed the path that water and unimaginable geological time together had carved out before us. 

On more than one trip we found ourselves seeking shelter from strong sand-laced winds that would bite and sting any exposed skin, and also fill any exposed food with sand. If the winds were especially bad, we’d quickly clamor into bed with gritty sand blasted faces, and dog fur flying around the back of the truck.  We’d lay there, staring at each other wide-eyed and laughing nervously, wondering if we’d remembered to leave the truck in gear and if we’d pulled the parking brake as good as we should have.  Sometimes the winds were so bad that we’d be forced to eat bars for breakfast in the front seats of our truck.  We’d sit there sipping our coffee as the brutal winds rocked our little truck from side to side but we were just happy to be out there.

When we found the cold or wind too unpleasant to bear, it offered a great excuse to explore more dirt roads from the shelter of the truck which led us to many fantastic hidden gems.  We were lucky enough to stumble across some of the most impressive 2000 year old pictographs we had ever seen. They inspired our imagination and made us wonder what compelled those ancient people to make the art that they did in those places. What was life like for the people that called these areas home so long ago? They surely lived a life then that I am envious of now. 

When the weather and winds were agreeable, we enjoyed wandering through the open desert on foot, tracing canyon edges and paths of least resistance, only connecting with dirt roads long enough to cross them again.  We were lucky to have friends join us on a few of these weekends and on one occasion, we made our way out to a point that we’d spotted on a previous trip from the opposite side of a deep river canyon.  It was great to sit there and soak in the expansive view and unique perspective of that rugged landscape from our new vantage point while sharing stories and snacks and laughs with our good friends.  

I didn’t realize it then, but in the same way that the landscape had been shaped by water, wind, geological forces, and time, it was also shaping us as well. Slowly at first, unnoticeable in a single moment but now many weeks and months later it is deeply evident. Those deep canyons and towering sandstone spires were slowly realigning our priorities.  Those winds and sands were helping to erode away the trivial things in our lives that we needlessly cared too much about; helping us to reaffirm that spending as much time as we can outdoors is where we want to be and where we are the happiest versions of ourselves.  

-Brian