The desert has kidnapped us. Always a bucket list destination, I never expected to want to stay. I’m afraid Stockholm Syndrome is setting in, as I’ve fallen in love with my captor. The air is crisp, perfect for a crackling fire as temperatures drop pretty drastically as soon as the shadow hits. The canyons of red rocks burst into flames in the late afternoon, almost blindingly, while we wrap up another successful day of climbing. Caws of giant crows echo through valleys along with Bickel’s laugh, his giddiness for the climbs escaping freely and joyously. June lays contently in the sun wherever she can find it, eyes squinted and mouth split into a huge grin. She is loving it here. Adventure happens every day, and she gets salty when a multi-pitch climb or national park visit requires her to stay in the van.
It’s easy to find people who are eager to join us, since the desert attracts all types of adventurers, but it’s also possible to feel like the only ones out here. Moab was teeming with visitors the first weekend we arrived, between the climbing festival we were attending and the mountain bike festival happening simultaneously. We met some friends the previous weekend at a climbing festival, and built our crew throughout the next. The climbing community is a stellar collection of individuals, and these Craggin’ Classic festivals are full of fun-loving people who are all out here to live simply, laugh, drink beer, avoid showers, and build each others’ psyche for the sport. Information and knowledge are shared, and we’ve found ourselves learning something new every day. Most places we climb, we encounter new types of rock, styles, and challenges. I laugh because I have no idea what grade I climb anymore, switching daily between sandstone, limestone, calcite and granite, sport climbing, traditional climbing and bouldering. We’ve begun to dabble in crack climbing, which is full of new moves I’ve never had to pull before, we are exploring sandy desert tower multi-pitches, and sharp but frictiony boulders. The options are endless in a few hours’ drive from one place to the next, the land is vast and empty, and there are many beautiful free spots to call home for a night or two. We are chasing the weather, and fear it might push us out sooner than we’re ready. Until then, let my bruise count increase, my skin continue to dry up, my hair become brittle and my lips chapped, as I linger around as long as possible.