Spring Pilgrimage

 

Every March a few friends and I take off to the Utah desert for a yearly pilgrimage to rejuvenate and celebrate a new season of outdoor meandering with some needed adventure. Moab is a place where you can sneak away from the chilly spring weather and enjoy higher temps a month or two before they reach Colorado’s Front Range. The long weekend is always spent exploring new canyons, climbing sketchy routes, riding bikes, chatting about lofty summer summits, living in nylon and mesh abodes and of course running the CanyonlandsHalf Marathon. 

The trip started by peeling out of Sierra Trading Post on a sunny Thursday afternoon, making a quick pit stop in Fort Collins to grab my gear and two excited Moab greenhorns before heading west through the night. We arrived at our desolate camp spot way down Kane Creek Road, west of Moab, late into the morning, and after hastily setting up our tents we retired for the evening, giddy with anticipation for the next few days.

 

As the sun rose I awoke to the oohhs and aahhs of my fellow wayfarers as they poked their heads out of the tent vestibules to see the awesome scenery that is Canyonlands for the first time. We eased into the morning, and after a big breakfast prepped for our first foray. Hunter canyon is not remote or challenging, but it is beautiful and was close to our campsite so off we went. 

Being a gear dork, Moab was going to be my test lab for my transition to merino wool athletic gear so I donned a thin Icebreaker shirt and headed up canyon. Working for Sierra I get to see a lot of gear and to be honest new wool is one of the things I am most excited about, it’s as soft as organic cotton, you can wash it like normal clothes and it claims to be odor free! I had to see for myself….

 

We enjoyed a great, long, sunny hike into Hunter canyon, with blue skies and 85°. As we turned back at the end of the canyon things started to go wrong. My lovelable 9 year old border collie, Jack, slipped and took a 20 foot fall off a rounded sandstone ledge, luckily landing in a bed of plush and impact resistant reed grass, seemingly unscathed. My heart was still in my throat when I got down to him, but he sauntered off in search of his next distraction with little thought about me. Then on our walk out, Stephanie, full of first time desert wonder, began to feel a little ill. It wasn’t long before breakfast was lying on the side of the sandy trail. We rushed out of Hunter Canyon to get her something to calm her stomach and spent the rest of the day basking in the sun, prepping for the next days race and taking it real easy hoping her upset stomach would pass.

Saturday morning came quickly and we headed into town to catch our shuttle up scenic HWY 128 which we’d be running down for 13.1 miles. The wind was blowing strong, but the sun was out and the masses were convening on Moab’s City Park. The race was amazing, everyone running with us finished strong and not a sole could smell my two-day funk. The wool was comfortable, I wasn’t hot or cold, it wicked my sweat away perfectly and I smelled fresh as a spring tulip. I was blown away.

Stephanie still felt pretty cruddy so we took the afternoon pretty easy, lunching at the brewery and moving camp to a new site on the Potash Road so we’d be close to evening climbing at Wall Street. We climbed until dark with the flowing Colorado River steps away and grand sandstone walls over head. It was Stephanie’s first time climbing outdoors, and stomach flu couldn’t stop her. She did great putting up a few 5.7’s and 8’s and since, won’t stop talking about scaling rocks. We chuckled about life around the campfire that night, and planned the next great adventures.  The past two days had flown by but they were good ones, recharging ones, ones that get me through the hard days at the office knowing there are more like them ahead.

 

With the Sunday dawn came the sad fact that our weekend was dwindling, and the overcast chilly weather was enough to push us to pack up and head back towards Colorado in search of sunnier climes. We bid a farewell to the Utah desert and managed to make it home without any injury, which is an accomplishment for me. I finally took off my wool shirt too, after 3 days of desert heat, hiking, climbing and a half marathon, I conducted the scientific smell test, which it passed, and threw it on a hook on my door, not yet ready for the suds and water.