Utah

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It has been a while since I’ve written anything.  I’ve been keeping a diligent journal but by the time I finish that, I’m out of words for the day.  So I’m going to retell what I’ve done and where I’ve been the way I would have if I had written this right after each of those places in an attempt to keep the integrity of the experiences and feelings.  Ok, here we go…

After my last post, I was on my way back to Salt Lake City.  I had been on the road 3 weeks and it felt weird to be going “home”.  I pulled into the neighborhood and saw Halloween decorations on all the neighbor’s houses.  I had completely forgotten about Halloween.  As a first grade teacher, Halloween is a BIG.DEAL.  It felt so bizarre to not even realize it was time for Halloween.

That feeling kind of sums up how it was to be back.  It was all sort of surreal.  Like I had almost imagined that life back in Salt Lake had just paused while I was gone, and I was surprised to find that it hadn’t.  Everyone went on living their lives while I was gone (shocking, I know).

I stayed at my boyfriend’s house (the same place I did most of the van build) while I was back in Salt Lake City.  It was amazing how quickly I adapted back to old routines.  I swam in the mornings with my favorite swim ladies, I took showers every day, and I even cooked my favorite Instant Pot recipes.  Dakota also eased right back into her routine of eating all the pears out of the backyard and sleeping on the couch.  It was nice being back with my boyfriend too, although we had some ups and downs while I was in town.  By the time I was set to leave though, we had found our groove again and leaving became an impossible task.  I dragged my feet about the whole process of taking care of my “van chores”: dumping graywater, refilling potable water, dumping the toilet, vacuuming, laundry, and grocery shopping.  The weather forecast was the other reason I was having a hard time hitting the road.  My plan had been to head south towards Bryce Canyon and Capitol Reef National Park, but the weather report was showing overnight temps well below freezing and snow.  I had survived some cold nights already but it’s definitely never enjoyable.

In order to avoid the coldest of the forecast, I drove just an hour south, picked up my boyfriend from work, and took us both into American Fork Canyon for the night.  I just couldn’t squeeze in enough time together before parting, even though we already had plans to see each other again the next weekend. The routine of being apart becomes easier after a while but I dreaded those first few days away.

Next I drove to Fishlake National Forest, which is between Salt Lake City and Bryce Canyon.  This was the perfect way to ease me back into life on the road.  Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE being on the road.  I wouldn’t give this experience up for anything.  But it also takes a tremendous amount of energy and sacrifice, so it takes me a few days to get back into my routines.  The scenery here was breathtaking and it was such a good reminder of why I love being out here.  I drove down a long dirt road that ran alongside a creek and looked for a spot for the night.  There were spots every so often that you could pull into where you’d find a fire ring: the sign that you can camp there.  Sometimes you can’t quite tell what a spot is going to look like until you pull into it, which once led me down a steep, rocky, narrow road that I then got to do a 46-point turn on to get back out of it.  Someday when I drive a normal vehicle again, I’m going to be the most incredible driver ever.

I eventually found a spot and Dakota and I got out to explore.  It was beautiful, secluded, and right on the creek.  We walked down the road a little ways and I couldn’t help but be a little nervous about mountain lions.  I had spent so much time in bear country so far that I was a little paranoid about wildlife.  When we got back to the van, Dakota sniffed herself towards the bushes.  As I tried to stop her from what would inevitably be something disgusting, I saw eyes looking back at me.  Dead eyes.  I froze and realized that it was a deer head and laying next to it were feet, unattached.  A shiver immediately ran down my spine.  Just a head and feet, all the meaty parts were gone.  Definitely a mountain lion (or so I instantly convinced myself). I scanned the surrounding landscape, sure I could feel something watching me (maybe it was just the deer eyes).  There is one thing I’ve been so adamant about since hitting the road: trust your gut.  I promised myself on day 1 that I’d always trust my gut and if it was telling me something was unsafe, I needed to listen no matter what.  Well, my gut was trying to tell me something and so it was time to find a new spot for the night.  I drove a few minutes back down the road towards the highway and came across a big group camping spot right near an overpass, which in my mind justified no mountain lions.  This site wasn’t peaceful or pretty, but my gut was pleased so I was too.

The next morning was cold and I worked from the freezing van with all the window shades up still, hibernating in my “cave”.  Dakota is usually content to sleep for a while in the mornings but this morning she was standing by the door crying even though I knew she didn’t need to use the bathroom.  I eventually gave in to her persistence and went outside with her.  To my surprise, the sun was shining on the other half of the campsite and it actually felt really warm in the sun.  I decided to set up my “office” outside for the morning since it was so much nicer out of the van.  Soon I was sitting in a camp chair next to the stream with a hot cup of coffee and Dakota was relaxing on her dog bed next to me.  I’ve been lucky enough to have a few moments like this so far, where I just pause and breathe in the gratitude.  I feel overwhelmed when this happens, happy to the brim.   Thankful for this experience, for this freedom, and for Dakota by my side, making me go outside to sit in the sunshine.

Bryce Canyon National Park

From Fishlake National Forest I drove to a spot about 20 minutes outside of Bryce Canyon National Park.  This spot was actually about 5 spots all in one small area but nobody else was there.  The desert sun and red rock landscape warmed my soul.  It felt so good to be back in the desert and I had spent a lot of time there with my boyfriend last year.  We’d drive 4 hours south nearly every weekend in order to camp year-round and it became my second home.  I also realized I felt so much braver in the desert.  The open landscapes were less threatening to me and although mountain lions were obviously a fear of mine, they were less prevalent than bears, so that provided me with some sense of security.  We explored our new home and I felt the urge to gather firewood.  I hadn’t had a fire alone yet, but the comfort of the desert gave me the desire to sit under the stars around a warm campfire.  Our “home” was surrounded with hoodoos and we enjoyed exploring them as the golden hour hit.  We had spent all day in the car and we hadn’t moved enough, so I walked Dakota down a dirt road and we watched the colorful sky change as the sunset evolved.  My heart was bursting with joy as we walked down the middle of that road, alone in the desert, watching the sun paint the landscape in vibrant hues.

After dinner, once the sun had set, I gave myself a big pep talk and went out in the dark.  Normally once the sun sets, I’m in the van until sunrise because honestly, I’m scared.  But I had already arranged the fire and all I had to do was light it, so I took a deep breath, forced Dakota to join me, and went out into the night.

Dakota was not thrilled about this.  Normally when I camp she likes to put herself to bed early instead of sitting around the campfire and will put herself into the car/tent/hammock as soon as the sun goes down.  Normally I give in to this request but tonight I needed her out there with me.  I sat there next to the warm campfire with a glass of wine and my unhappy dog and watched the shooting stars.  Just as I was starting to really settle into how brave and bada** I was being, I heard something.

“MOOOOOOOOOO….”

I wish I was joking, but of course I’m not.  On my bravest night so far, one of my biggest fears shows up to really challenge me.  In case you’ve missed it, I’m scared of cows.  Maybe it’s from attending Real Life Day Camp as a child, which took place on a farm.  I clearly remember running into one of the barns and quickly turning a corner to come face-to-face with a giant cow, his bloodshot eyes forever burned into my impressionable brain.  Unfortunately for me, cows graze openly in many places that I frequent while adventuring and I’ve been surprised by them on way too many occasions.  So here I am, alone in the middle of the desert, being incredibly brave sitting by the campfire I made myself, and a cow is here to ruin it.  I gave myself a pep talk and reminded myself that this cow is not going to hurt me.  I turned up my music, drank some more liquid courage, and focused back on the fire.  I had just started to forget about being scared when I heard it again.

“MOOOOOOOOOO….”

This time it was closer.  All I could picture was that scary cow face with the bloodshot eyes suddenly appearing in the firelight.  Even if the cow wouldn’t actually be a threat, I knew the sight of it approaching in the light of the fire would probably give me a heart attack and would be the end of me doing anything brave ever again.  I had been there nearly 30 minutes and was pleased with myself for doing that, so I put the fire out and retreated to safety in the van.

I spent the next day exploring the Red Canyon area which was just down the road from where I had spent the night.  These trails were dog-friendly so Dakota and I explored the hoodoos and arches along these trails.  That night I got brave enough to try a campfire one more time so that it would be ready to enjoy when my boyfriend arrived.

The next day we drove to Bryce Canyon and drove all the way through, stopping at all the pull-outs along the way to admire the views.  There is only one dog-friendly “trail” (sidewalk) in the park so we took Dakota on that and she enjoyed walking up to the cliff edge and taking in the view.  She was the center of attention on the trail and attracted nearly every child in the park.

I meet very interesting people through Dakota.  On this particular instance, I met a first grade girl and her two older sisters.  The first grader was SO excited that my dog’s name is Dakota because she has a Dakota in her class (and thought maybe I knew her too).  Eventually the girls’ parents came over too and I was asking the first grader if she had any pets.  She told me about her pet rabbits and also shared that they killed one of their rabbits and ate it.  Luckily, I’ve had years of practice with my poker face in awkward kid/parent situations so I handled it like a pro.

The next day we planned to head back to Bryce Canyon to catch the sunrise but after a late night next to the campfire we didn’t get there in time and the weather wasn’t cooperating for a sunrise.  By the time we got there it started pouring rain and a storm was coming in.  Bryce Canyon is not a safe place to be in a thunderstorm due to the risk of lightening strikes so our hiking plans got canceled.  We also remembered that my boyfriend’s car was back at the campsite and there was a high risk of flash floods there.  We hurried to move his car and on the way back I heard a “thud”.  In that instant my driver’s side wiper blade flew off the van and into the street.  We couldn’t drive without it because it was raining so hard, so we carefully drove back to town and were able to replace it quickly but unfortunately not before the wiper arm scratched up the windshield.

 

We were able to make it safely back to the campsite and move the car, but the weather wasn’t showing any signs of letting up.  We decided to check out a local restaurant for lunch before my boyfriend had to return to Salt Lake City.  It seemed so unfair that the weekend had passed so quickly and that we wouldn’t be able to hike together before he left.  We didn’t have plans to meet up again until Thanksgiving and even then, no plane tickets had been purchased yet and I was skeptical of whether or not he’d actually be joining me for the holiday.  I endured another sad goodbye and sat in the parking lot crying for a while after he left.

Then it was time for a good distraction and the sun started to come out, so I took myself back to Bryce Canyon and took Dakota back on the trail we had walked the day before.  After I had worn her out I took myself hiking on the trail that my boyfriend and I had been hoping to do together.  I hiked the Navajo Loop and enjoyed seeing the hoodoos up close and experiencing the park from below the rim.  By the time I was finished hiking I felt so much better.  I drove to a nearby campground and paid for a shower that was VERY overdue and then hit the road for my next destination: Capitol Reef National Park.

Capitol Reef National Park

I always tell myself I won’t drive in the dark because of the risk of hitting wildlife and the challenge of finding a place to park at night and yet I still manage to drive in the dark ALL THE TIME.  By the time I left Bryce Canyon it was already dark but I was determined to make it to Capitol Reef because I was now on the time crunch to be in Taos, New Mexico in a week and there was a lot I wanted to squeeze in along the way.

I planned to only spend one day at Capitol Reef and I struggled to find enough of a signal to get on the internet to work.  This was the only place I’ve been so far where finding reliable internet was a problem.  Usually my combination of a WeBoost signal booster and my Verizon Hot Spot are enough to get me connected anywhere.  This dilemma resulted in a later start than I intended and as soon as I got to the park it started raining.  Traveling to National Parks with dogs is hard because there are so many restrictions on what trails (if any) your dog can use so most of my exploring is done with Dakota left behind in the van.  In order to do this I have to make sure she is well worn-out ahead of time.  There was one dog-friendly trail at Capitol Reef so I put on my rain coat and took Dakota out in the rain.  As soon as we got started it began to POUR.  We were already wet though so there was no point in turning around, we would be wet either way.  The only problem was the mud.  The ground was soaked and the mud caked my shoes and Dakota’s paws to the point where we were both slipping and I thought for sure I’d end up falling (luckily I didn’t).  Getting us cleaned up to get back in the van was an impossible task and I knew the inside of the van would never be the same after that.

Then I drove us through the park and stopped at a few popular spots to get out and explore.  I saw the petroglyphs and enjoyed a quiet hike to Hickman’s Natural Bridge.  The sun eventually came out and the weather was beautiful the rest of the day.

In an attempt to not drive in the dark, I left the park with plenty of time to find a spot.  All of the roads that would typically lead to an enormous amount of BLM campsites were flooded and muddy and I was worried about getting the van stuck.  I found a beautiful place to park after exploring a treacherously muddy road that I probably shouldn’t have driven down, but luckily I didn’t get stuck.

Moab

The next morning I made my way to Moab, Utah.  I visited Moab a few times last fall, but I hadn’t been to Arches or Canyonlands National Park.  Moab was full of vans.  At one point I pulled into a parking lot and I was one of 7 other vans.

My first order of business was to take Dakota for an adventure so I could explore Arches National Park later.  There are a ton of great dog-friendly hikes in Moab and I’ve been lucky enough to explore many of them in the past.  I did a quick google search and found a new one though that topped many of the dog-friendly lists- Corona Arch.  There was mention of a section of the trail with a ladder but that dogs could scramble up the slick rock around it and continue to the arch.  Dakota is amazing at navigating up steep surfaces so it seemed like a great choice for us.

A couple miles into the trail we didn’t come to a ladder, we came to a metal railing that could be held onto while you placed your feet in the holes of the rock to climb up.  I began climbing and turned around to see Dakota attempting to scramble up this slickrock, nails digging into the rocks, and then losing momentum and jumping back down.  I called her and encouraged her to try again just as someone was approaching to climb down this section.  I told him to go ahead and pass through as I tried to figure out how to get Dakota up to me.  He offered to give her a boost from the bottom and as he got down to her he reached to grab her collar.  Dakota is as stubborn as they come so if someone (including myself) grabs her collar, she immediately resists and wants to go the opposite direction of wherever you’re leading her.  So as soon as he made contact with the collar, Dakota decided she wasn’t climbing up the rock.  Despite the help of this kind man and many other strangers that came along after him, there was no way Dakota was going to attempt this climb again.  I could see the arch in the distance but that was as close as I would be getting.  I climbed back down and we started to head back to the van.

Maybe it’s my tremendous fear of the day I’ll have to say goodbye to Dakota.  Maybe it’s the fact that despite my efforts, she is getting grayer by the day, her hips are starting to show signs of stiffness, and soon she’ll be 7 years old.  But as I turned to head back down the path, my throat got tight and tears started streaming down my face.  I honestly think she could have made it up that rock, but this was the first time an adventure had been cut short for Dakota and I couldn’t handle how sad that made me feel.

When I got back to the van, I opened up my National Parks Book  (a van-warming gift from my mom) and looked up Arches National Park.  As I was reading about the hike to Delicate Arch, the most famous hike at the park, it suggested hiking this trail on a full moon if the timing was right.  That night happened to be a full moon and so on my quest to do epic, courageous things, I knew I would have to attempt it.

I got to the park just as the sun was setting and drove to trailhead, which I reached after dark.  As I pulled up I realized just how dark it was outside, and it was made even darker by the clouds which were obscuring the full moon.  I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t be able to follow the trail since I was unfamiliar with it.  Just as I parked the van, I saw a couple getting out of their car and walking in the dark towards the trailhead.  I knew I needed to hike with them, or I didn’t stand a chance of navigating the trail in the dark alone.  Like a madwoman, I threw on a bunch of layers, filled my backpack with water, changed the batteries in my headlamp, and jumped out of the van.  They were already on the trail and I could see their headlamps in the distance.  There were several other cars in the parking lot though, so I felt encouraged that I would be seeing many other people along the way.  As soon as I started on the trail, a huge group of about 20 people were finishing their hike and heading to the parking lot.  That accounted for everyone else on the trail besides that couple and me.  I repeated over and over to myself, “I am brave.  I am strong,” but I was jumping at the sight of my headlamp casting shadows over rocks.  I knew I had to catch up to the couple, so I hiked faster than I’ve ever hiked before.  By the time I caught up to them, I was dripping sweat.  I asked if I could join them and they were happy to have me tag along.  They were on a road trip from Colorado and had previously been travel nurses so they understood the allure of vanlife.  I thoroughly enjoyed their company as well as their navigation skills.  Before I knew it, we turned a corner and there was Delicate Arch, glowing in the moonlight.

It was bigger than I realized and the three of us sat there in silence for a while, turning off our headlamps and letting our eyes adjust to the moonlight.  We attempted some pictures but for the most part we just sat there and enjoyed the experience.  I don’t have the camera or the skills to take moonlight pictures like that, but the memories of pushing myself to do that hike at night will be with me forever.

The next day I knew I had to go back to Arches to see the rest of the park.  There are no dog-friendly trails in the park, so I took Dakota out for a mountain bike ride and explored the park solo the rest of the day.  I saw Balanced Rock, hiked the Windows Loop, and then made my way back to Delicate Arch so I could see it at sunset this time.

I pulled into the trailhead parking lot right next to a van that looked an awful lot like Forrest.  There was a couple outside with their dog, setting up a table and cooking gear.  I got out and said, “Hey, nice van,” and we were instantly friends.  Their names are Jen and Mike (and their cute dog, Moriah), and Jen and I hiked to Delicate Arch to catch the sunset.  It was a vastly different experience during the day, but I was still just as shocked to see how massive and beautiful Delicate Arch is, even after seeing it the night before.  When we got back to the van, Mike had cooked us dinner and they fed me in the parking lot while we chatted under the full moon.  This was the first time I had met anyone else living the vanlife and it was so refreshing to swap van horror stories, tips and tricks, and memories of the places we’ve been.  I gave my first official van tour and loved seeing the similarities and differences between our builds.  Jen, Mike, and Moriah can be found at www.moriahsvan.wordpress.com if you want to tune into their journey!

I was running out of time to get to New Mexico so the next day I took a quick trip to Canyonlands National Park.  Dakota and I drove through the park and I did two quick hikes to Mesa Arch and Upheaval Dome.  I knew we had a bit of driving ahead of us, so I hiked and then began the journey towards New Mexico.

“What draws us into the desert is the search for something intimate in the remote.” -Edward Abbey