This morning I’m eating a fresh and juicy orange, one of my favourite fruits. I savour it section by luscious section, while standing atop a mesa in Kane Creek Canyon, near Moab, Utah.
yoga high on the high mesa
Oh, but it tastes divine. March oranges are always the most delicious. (It must be the prime season for citrus in Mexico). Here in Utah, it is hot and dry at 8am. All around me is beauty. The earth is stone and gravel in shades of reddish brown, with creamy streaks painting patterns through the striated layers of great red rock. Rock in fantastic bulbous shapes and tall towers, flat ledges, curved and lumpy piles, and square cut mesas. A few cotton-tail rabbits create a murmur of movement in an otherwise impeccably still landscape. Presently I see a quiver of breeze in the grey-green clump of grass beside me. Life does survive here, in little bits, with lots of space in between.
Noah, Jen, Catha, and Jill jump for joy at Arches National Park
Spiky cactus, olive coloured shrubs, sharp leaved clusters of tiny, magnificent flowers, large over-arching deciduous leafy trees along a creek-bed. Stunted pine up towards the eastern state line mountains; they all eek out a precarious existence amongst wind, sun and seasonal rains. The early rays are warming me up already, and I salute the golden globe in the sky. My senses are wide open. The delight of this place, and of this tasty fruit, is engulfing my consciousness. Sweet, tangy, wet, crunchy explosions of citrus tang drip down my fingers. I lick it up with both a devouring urgency and a mellow presence. Such is life. We are enthusiastic to experience it all right away, and we also have a heart’s desire to be in the here-and-now and take it in slowly, fully, richly, deeply.
Rowan, Jody, Nigel, Autumn, Alan…ready to ride
The mountain biking is beyond anything we’ve done before. The island we’re from has excellent trails, and it is impossible to compare the two locations as they are entirely different. Here, everything is dry, dry, dry. Sandy, rocky desert terrain, cactus with cypress furtively existing amidst it. The slickrock is great…I call it stickrock because it has so much traction. It is like moving over sandstone; tires get a good grip. One can build up confidence on this, every curve and dip and drop and bank and rise is exhilarating. Signs and stripes guide us over the tracks, which sport sure-fire-fun names: Hurrah Summit, Captain Ahab’s, the Whole Enchilada, Poison Spider, Pipedream, and Rockin’ A. Lots of grunt work uphill, bumping onto boulders with a sigh of success, challenging oneself to do the minimum of ‘dabbing’ (foot touchdowns). Then comes the bliss of sinking into ‘the flow’ on the downhill; minimum effort, maximum speed. This year we’ve sought out new territory – Navajo Rocks, and Klondike Bluffs, (where we raced along the Dinoflow trail and were thrilled to see fossilized dinosaur tracks). The views in all directions bring one to one’s knees in humble awe of the magnificence of arches, towers, sculptures, mesas, red-orange outcroppings – all dramatic landscape features made for marvelling at.
Dusty and dry, we absorb water, sesame oil, sunscreen, hand cream, vitamin E, healing salve, avocado paste, and anything else we can think of to lather onto our skin. I believe we are in need of a cool plunge about now. I think it’s time to discover the swimming holes along the Creek feeding into the mighty Colorado River.
Tom at Hurrah Pass
I approach the locals and ask where their favourite spot is. Tom and I scout it out just past the town centre and on out to Power Dam road. Sure enough, it is worthy of kudos. Multiple pools in the stream at the bottom of a small canyon carved out of the rust coloured sandstone. Pools you can wade into and roll about in. Turns out it is cold. Super cold. Heart racing cold. But we are Canadians, from the far, wild north, and we are hardy. What a relief to bathe and be cleansed and refreshed in this continuously moving medium. We lounge on the rocks awhile and soak up the mellowing afternoon sun. We are pleased that we have found a new place to frequent. A welcoming plunge after a day of hard riding and sweat. Yes.
Colorado River
JillJourneys 
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