Four months on the road, more than 17,000 miles in the old Toyota, and three unforgettable weeks climbing, paddling, biking and wandering around Moab and the Four Corners country.
Of all my trips through the Desert Southwest, none compared with this one in 1994. By the time I reached Utah, my body was strong after roughly two months of climbing and backpacking through the Rocky Mountains and Pacific Northwest. I was living simply, carrying what I needed in the Toyota, and letting the landscape decide what came next.
Moab offered almost everything I loved in one place: rock climbing, mountain biking, river travel, hiking, canyoneering, inexpensive hostel life and seemingly endless public land. I could wear myself out on one adventure, rest a different set of muscles the next day, and then head back into the desert again.
Moab and the Slickrock
I began by mountain biking across the petrified sand dunes around Moab. The riding was steep, relentless and unlike anything I had known. It was up, down, up and down again, with a few wipeouts mixed in. My legs took a beating that first day, but the strange beauty of riding over bare sandstone made every hard-earned mile worthwhile.
Moab felt like an outdoor playground without walls. There was always another trail, canyon, cliff or river bend nearby, and much of the surrounding country was open public land where a person willing to explore could find solitude very quickly.
Mountain biking the petrified sandstone around Moab. Click any photograph for the full-size image.
Climbing at Spider Wall
After the slickrock riding trashed my legs, climbing seemed like a reasonable way to give them a break. Spider Wall, just outside Moab, was wonderfully convenient. I could belay almost directly from the car, play music, and spend the day working routes without hauling gear for miles.
I did a number of self-belays with a solo device, anchoring the system right to the Toyota's bumper. It was a wonderfully improvised kind of freedom: the car was transportation, gear locker, campsite and sometimes part of the climbing system itself. By the end of the second day, though, my fingertips were burned and blistered from the sandstone. The legs had recovered, but now the hands were finished. It was time to find the river.
Climbing at Spider Wall, where I could belay close to the car and anchor solo climbs to the bumper.
The Lazy Lizard
For about three weeks, the Lazy Lizard Hostel became my home base. A bunkroom cost about six dollars a night, or I could camp for around three dollars. There was a hot tub, a barbecue and several outdoor picnic tables where travelers gathered to cook, talk and compare adventures.
The hostel gave the trip a social center without taking away the freedom of being on the road. I could spend the day alone climbing, biking or wandering through the desert, then return in the evening to a loose community of travelers from everywhere. The real dilemma was that excellent free camping was also scattered throughout the backcountry around Moab. Between the hostel and the open BLM land, it felt like paradise.
The old Toyota covered more than 17,000 miles on this four-month road trip and served as transportation, storage and home base.
Solo on the Green River
Once my fingertips had had enough of the sandstone, I went looking for the Green River. I was nervous as hell as I prepared to launch alone, especially because farther downstream the Green joins the Colorado and eventually leads toward the Grand Canyon. My plan was to enjoy the river but get out well before that became an issue.
The day turned out almost perfectly. The river alternated between mellow pools and lively whitewater: rapid, pool, rapid, pool. During the quiet stretches I could kick back, take in the canyon walls and listen for the distant roar that warned of the next rapid. It was half peaceful and half wild, which was about as good a combination as I could ask for.
Nervous but excited, getting ready to launch alone on the Green River.
Whitewater, Quiet Pools and Ancient Places
On the river, the pace changed constantly. In the calm water I could relax, have a drink and watch the cliffs drift past. Then the sound of whitewater would build and it was time to focus again, keep hold of the paddle and read the current.
Along the way I found remote Ancestral Puebloan cliff dwellings that received almost no visitors. I considered camping nearby and meditating there by candlelight, but the place felt too powerful and intense. Sometimes respect for a place means knowing when not to settle in and make it your own.
One of the livelier stretches on a day that alternated beautifully between whitewater and quiet pools.
Into the Slot Canyons
The slot canyons snaking toward Lake Powell were some of the most beautiful places I had ever entered. The deeper I went, the narrower the walls became, until I was four miles into a canyon that was roughly a hundred feet deep. Photographs could never convey the scale, color or strange intimacy of walking through those twisting stone corridors.
They were also places that demanded attention. A thunderstorm many miles away could send a flash flood racing through the canyon long before a person inside ever saw rain. As the passage tightened, I listened carefully for thunder and kept thinking about where the lake might finally appear. The nervousness was part of the experience—not panic, but a constant reminder that the desert sets the terms.
About four miles into the slot canyon, with high walls, a narrowing passage and weather always somewhere in the back of my mind.
Why This Trip Stayed With Me
The Four Corners country became my favorite place in the lower 48 because so many kinds of adventure came together there. I could climb, mountain bike, paddle whitewater, hike, backpack, camp on public land and keep discovering places that felt completely new.
Looking back, the trip was not just about being strong enough to do all of those things. It was about having the time and freedom to follow curiosity. I am grateful that the old Toyota kept going, that my risky improvisations worked out, and that I had the good fortune to experience these places before life became more structured again. Afterwards, I headed down to Valley View Hot Springs in Colorado, Great Sand Dunes NP, Taos and Santa Fe and Albuquerque NM, and eventually home by Halloween weekend. Four incredible months on the road, with no real plan, just doing one day at a time!
Original Photo Gallery
All photographs link directly to the local full-size image files.
Mountain biking the petrified sandstone around Moab.Climbing and belaying at Spider Wall just outside Moab.Monument Valley in the vast Four Corners landscape.Settling into a quiet stretch of the Green River.Alone on the river beneath the immense canyon walls.Remote Ancestral Puebloan cliff dwellings far from the usual visitor routes.Following a twisting slot canyon toward Lake Powell.Deeper in the canyon, with high walls and flash-flood danger always in mind.
