06/10/2024
A couple of weeks ago I led an outdoor program backpacking trip through Coyote Gulch in Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument. This was the biggest trip I’ve organized and guided with Augie, and while it took us to some of the most incredible places with an amazing group of students, it was also an exhausting week of driving, camping, hiking, and carrying ourselves through new experiences under our own power.
We backpacked into this unassuming canyon, descending from the sand dunes and sagebrush-speckled expanse of arid desert to a beautiful, lush oasis, green with willows and filled with the sound of wind rushing through the fish scale silver green leaves of quaking aspen that mingled with the babbling of creek water falling into emerald green pools beneath brick red walls of sandstone, painted black by millennia of rainwater drunk by the thirsty desert and collected here beneath and washing over our feet as we followed the path cut over time measured not in years, but in stone.
So really, who am I to complain about a few dozen hours of driving across the country to sleep under these walls? But on the other hand, can you imagine having the patience of a stone?