Day 2

Because the restaurant had to be closed for repairs April 29 - May 7 we decided to take a road trip. The following posts are a daily log of our adventures. 

Tyler said the desert makes you feel small. You lose perspective on how large things are because you don't have trees, or any other familiar markers to give a scale to formations in the distance. All you know is that most of them are pretty damn big.

That's why I love going to the desert during the off-season. It makes me feel so miniscule compared to the rock formations. Not just in respect to size, but also time. Everything takes so much longer to grow. To think about the time it took to shape the rocks is amazing. As Red narrated in Shawshank: "Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really, pressure, and time." Slowly forming through all of the harsh elements of heat, violent winds and the occasional rain.

 We actually had the pleasure of experiencing one of those factors: a dehydrated storm.
Of all the times I've gone to the desert, I've never been caught in one. Basically it's just what it says it is — a storm without moisture. The wind was relentless and would not stop throwing the fine sand particles around. Even after the rain fly had been fastened to the tent, red dust still was able to work itself inside and coat everything rust. It was a side of the desert I hadn't seen before. I've seen the harsh, unforgiving heat, but not the savage winds that ravage the landscape, slowly forging the sandstone into submission like a river flowing over rock. And the land fights to hold its ground, but it is no match for pressure and time.

Aspen and Tyler at sunset before the storm.

Day 1

Ruffles and cheap prosecco to start off the week-long camp trip.

Because the restaurant had to be closed for repairs April 29 - May 7 we decided to take a road trip. The following posts are a daily log of our adventures.


At 8:46 a.m. we had the truck packed up, and were on our way to pick up greasy, smashed ham and Swiss cheese croissant egg sandwiches for the road. Our successful departure time could be credited to our advanced and efficient planning that only left us the task of loading up the dogs and the coolers in the morning. All we needed was a bundle of firewood, ice and Kent.

Because we always have the best intentions to leave early, but rarely ever do, I should have known that we were off to a too-good start. After a few hitches with our errands and fetching, we were officially on the road by 10:15 a.m. Not bad, but far from the 9 a.m. start we had hoped to achieve.

Tyler planning out all of our possible course options.

I thought we were well on our way, with only a quick stop at Cabela's before reaching our destination for the day: Moab. Shame on me for thinking that errand could be short and sweet. It's so easy to get distracted by the amount of inventory the store holds. Kent had to return a few items, so Tyler and I got lost in the abyss of camping gear: cots, grills, water purifiers, percolators, etc. Everything caught our eye. I managed to navigate the boys past the Bargain Cave (a time killer I knew we couldn't afford) but failed to mush them past the Gun Library. As soon as I snared one, the other would break free of my attention. Eventually we navigated our way to the check-out line, but picked the slowest lady checker in the store. Soon we were on the road and headed to the desert.

Tyler makes a pizza pie.

We were starving when we entered Moab, so we stopped at Eddie McStiff's for a late lunch, and to change our plans once again. While eating a terrible meal, we decided to camp out Onion Creek (close to town) so Kent could get some work done the next day and still be able to camp. He had planned on getting a hotel, but camping sounded like a much more fun proposition. Plus I think he wanted to check out the latest ambitious meal in the Dutch oven: deep dish pizza.

I made the dough ahead of time so the whole process was incredibly easy. Tyler just pressed the dough after oiling the pan, then added pizza sauce, shredded mozzarella with pepperoni and we were ready to bake up our creation. We did have brauts along too just in case the whole thing burnt to a crisp.

As we waited, the night began to get "weird cold" — as described by Kent. Here is the definition I came up with: the permanent feeling of goosebumps but your body shows no signs of them. Your core is warm, but somehow your appendages are chilled. Nothing about the temperature suggests that it's cold, but for some reason your brain wants another layer of clothing. Weird cold. 

As we watched the Dutch oven smolder with coals, we hoped that our pizza would turn out. I was so hungry, that I probably would have eaten whatever failed burnt mess that was in there, but I was in luck. The pizza worked! There was some burning of the crust, and next time we need to use about half the dough — but it worked! And it was delicious. Even with the weird cold, the dinner was perfect, and so were the following beers around the fire. Day 1 was off to a fabulous start for the trip.

Pig Roast: Attempt #1

Matt and Tyler attempting to make due with manually rotating the pig.

For our end-of-the-season party, everyone from work gathered together to roast a pig, eat drink and be merry. Since Tyler decided to roast a pig for my brother's rehearsal dinner in August, this dinner was going to be the first test run of his homemade portable spit.

 Unfortunately things did not go according to plan. The old scooter he had planned to use for a rotisserie motor did not work out at all. You can see the remains of the failed attempt to your right. Between manually turning the pig every three minutes with ratcheting tie-downs, and the biggest snow dump we've seen all season, the project had to be aborted. The pig had to be cut in thirds and thrown into the oven to finish cooking. It wasn't a total failure — we learned a lot and at least the skin crisped up nicely on the spit.