I had visions of all the amazing images we would share. Tyler and me, floating down a river with the magic of the orange rock looming above us. Tyler, then me jumping off the cliff. Tyler and me in a two-man canoe navigating the rapids like pros. Us, playing a game of balance on the side of the big raft. Etc. Etc. Etc. We would pass them down from generation to generation and our great, great grandchildren would show the picture to someone and say, “see, my grandparents forever ago were cool. They did awesome things.”
Well … the waterproof camera miraculously recovered after the trip had occurred. It’s possible the batteries were faulty. I like to think this was a trip and a memory that only Tyler and me can share.
Whatever it was, the rest, I can just tell you, was just as I’d hoped. We arrived and went straight to the pool. Camping was great. The next day’s river rafting guides were as authentic and granola as ever. I find them fascinating. We rafted on the six-man for the first half, stopped for lunch, then took our turn on the small, red two-man canoe. I was to steer, Tyler was to power the skiff. Once we got the communication thing down and I stopped spinning us in circles, it was really not so scary and a lot of fun. And a great workout, I might add.
Back at the campground, mid-afternoon was not all that “cool” with the heat and all. We spent our time in the pool, then when things got too much – we hit up the Wendy’s in search of A.C. We played cards for the next few hours.
When things cooled down a bit, we took our chance with our mountain bikes on the slick, orange rock. There was no one anywhere around for millions of miles it seemed. I am too scared sometimes. I was thinking of wildlife attacks and flat tires for approximately 1/3 of the ride. But when I let myself, it was really beautiful and exciting.
Fun to be in Moab, fun to be just us, wish I had some pictures, but I guess a few words are going to have to do.
