Utah 200

The last time I wrote a personal blog was August 29th only 27 days after I arrived in Yosemite Valley. I left the valley on October 30th, almost 3 months of living there. The valley is surrounded by extreme people and breathtaking walls. It was short-lived but I left feeling as if I left a piece of myself there continuing to ask myself what it was, I think of this often and I find it hard not to think that It had to do with the meaningful and valuable relationships I built there. I’ve worked seasonal jobs for the past few years and friends come and go, some stay a little longer than others and the rest seem to fade away. As we all do traveling from place to place is a temporary way of living, it is a temporary life. The relationships I’ve built in the valley are clear to me to be lifelong and for many reasons but few that are important to me. The sense of community is like no other I’ve experienced we work together, we play together, and we eat together. We know that everyone has a different reason for ending up in that magical valley. Whether it’s climbing, hiking, backpacking, nature-loving, or an escape from the mundane world that’s a few hours away it’s an unspoken bond a lot of us shared. It’s a place that I’d say you can get vortexed in. All are consumed by the lifestyle. I knew my time there had to come to an end but for all the best reasons….

Packed my car up the night before and left on the 30th early in the morning. With a 7-hour drive back to San Diego a drive I urgently wanted to get out of the way, eager to hit the coast and feel that radiant sun beaming every day and smell the coastal air. It’s paradise but it’s also home. I spent a speedy two weeks there before packing my car and prepping for the next venture. Originally my destination was Zion but quickly realize people are as unreliable to commit to the idea of something as you are. Changing plans and destination last minute I took highway 70 and headed for the cliffs of Moab. Having visited Moab in 2020 it felt great to be coming back. This time with a different attitude and set of experiences. The truth is there was no plan no goal no real reason to be in here other than to climb. Meeting up with friends from Yosemite I figured that would be easy. They introduced me to others and invited me to be a part of a special tradition in Indian creek that has been coined the name Creeksgiving. With maroon cliffs striped with perfectly cleaved breaches, like vertical gateways into a hidden world. The desert heat can be oppressive, but in late autumn, the low golden rays cast long shadows over the walls. Climbers from all over taped up, scrapes, smiles, and at times funky costumes gathered in along these desert walls feeling like gatekeepers from anything on the outside that could disturb. It’s the night of thanksgiving and beautiful chaos is approaching everyone shows up with a dish they prepared to share and the feasting begins. Soon afterward bellies full and liquor flowing they gather around a fire, dancing like some tribal ritual, people fueled by alcohol wrestling in the dirt, and writhing in the desert sand. It was an oddball community one I felt a part of but not entirely. On one hand, you all relate to this beautiful hobby but on the other hand, some of these folk don’t know your name. It’s a paradox I struggle with at times. The morning after I gather my things and head back into town. I don’t know how long ill be here or where ill go next and that’s okay, it’s what you sign up for at times traveling living out of your car, its that you will never know what will happen. A week goes by and November is coming to an end winter is a few weeks around the corner and it seems like we’re planning on dispersing and going our own ways. This wasn’t the adventure I expected but may be the one I will have needed down the road. Planning on returning to California and that’s about how far I’ve gotten