Red cliffs

Oh, how I love Moab. Impossible red rock cliffs squeeze all around you, holding you so tight that your eyes reach high to find nothing above but cobalt sky. Your nose fills with the dry sweet tang of sage and gypsum weed. Your ears echo with silence, or maybe wind whistling in the rocks. It's a wild place. Majestic and peaceful one moment, a storm ripping your tent the next. A place of extremes--blistering sun by day and at night, a chilly velvet vault splashed with stars. Sometimes the moon peeps out over the edge of burnt red cliff, flirting, spilling moonlight thick as milk. When the moon hides behind the rock towers, it's pitch black. If you arrive by night you'll catch your breath in the morning, shaken by all those dirt switchback ravines you drove in the dark, unknowing.

Stopping for a hike on the way into Kane Creek Canyon.

Petroglyphs along the trail. This famous petroglyph, called Birthing Scene, dates from the Anasazi culture (AD 1 to 1275).


We lucked out with a gorgeous huge campground along the creek.

A short video of our incredible campsite. We're a pretty chilled-out group, roasting s'mores, surrounded by glory. I think we were all tired from hiking.


See the kids? They pretty much ran wild along that ledge all day, finding a (dead) possum and poking around in the creek.




Can you spot Daniel and the gang of boys taking their morning hike? That's actually a pretty steep climb.


Happiness.