Roadtrips aren’t Vacations. Seeing the heartland of our country behind a 1/4inch piece of glass, that constantly is littered with smashed bugs and whatever crap the truck in front of you kicked up, isn’t the most enjoyable way to experience what there is to offer, especially when your cruising 40 mph’s under the speed limit in a snowstorm. A storm the mountaineers would laugh at, but an East Coaster would cringe over. Once you get to where you are going, if there is a final destination, you realize that it’s not the ending that your interested in… it’s the journey to get there. Whether the the windshield is covered in bugs or squeaky clean, the weather great or terrible, the views and thoughts experienced are memories that are never forgotten.
Utah, once again, has proven to be an endless adventure…. Moab pushing the limits on being the most adventurous town in the US, from Hiking to Biking to beating the hell out of offroad vehicles, nowhere even compares. Foster Huntington could base his VanLife website solely on the rigs that are found on the streets of Moab and on the back trails of vast expanses of BLM that surrounds the area.
We spent a few days exploring the area and had a pretty intense experience at Arches National Park, and had the chance to gain a little bit of knowledge on how much of Utah’s landscape was formed. 10 Bucks gets you through the gate, followed by a long drive up a ridge overlooking the town of Moab opens up to scenery that looks as if it fell off Mars. Towers of red rocks teetering on the edge of +200ft cliffs, boulders balancing on needle point, looking like a slight breeze would send them into a baleful tumble, and most famously, the arches. Massive arches carved out of solid rock from millions of years of water erosion and unstable salt bed foundations, delicately leaning against the horizon as if the footsteps from the next wave of tourists would cause them to crumble under their own weight.
A series of good byes and nice to meet ya’s, and we were on our way. The first leg of the quest was coming to an end, and regardless of the fun we had, we were ready to be done. Checking into a Motel 6 in St. George wasn’t exactly on the itinerary, however; the Jeep had been dropped off and the Hyundai doesn’t fare to well on BLM roads. Tired, sore, and defeated, the cheap mattress and lingering smell of pinesol wouldn’t bother us for a night that would end up costing us less than going to get some dinner. One day in St. George turned into two, the motel bill from $50 to $100, and the motivation to continue on from bleak to promising.
The second day was crucial to our second wind, and the Quest for the West would continue onto its final loop through California.