Somehow, winter lulls me into a place of forgetting. I’d forgotten about the magic spontaneity can bring. I’d forgotten what it was like to follow that gut feeling—you know the one—that calls to you in the middle night and says, “Hey you. Come sleep under the stars in my skies tonight. Wake up in my dirt. Breathe my fresh air.”
Winter makes me forget, sometimes. The secret to getting started is to just go. Once you initiate that first move, it all becomes so much easier. So, on a Friday evening, I packed the old Honda with groceries and brown dog and started driving. Too much of my weekly life was spent working or staring at a screen, and it was killing me. There is no phone app for the things I was looking for, but I knew where I could find them: the desert. And if I listen carefully, learn the lessons, create the intentions, and set the goals—it will all be there in the end. I can have splitter sandstone cracks and walls of granite. I can play in the dirt, cry happy tears, have long, deep talks, and still be able to spend time with myself.
Driving back from Salt Lake City, I thought about how something as simple as a long weekend in the desert could revive me in such a way. It’s not so much about the climbing or the traveling anymore. It isn’t something that I can put into words. You’ll just have to go and see for yourself.