Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Moab Getaway

Matrimony Springs, Moab, UT. "As the legend goes, if you drink from it, you will be married to Moab, and always return." I drink deeply, every visit.

Closing the door on the Red River was a little heart wrenching, the symbolic prelude to leaving town - indefinitely.

Moab couldn't be more gorgeous, the La Salles are cloaked in brilliant white, reigning majestically over the red plateaus, the martian landscape, the floor of this valley that gently rises to rub elbows with the sheer cliffs that surround it.

I love this place. It is one of my homes, a place where my soul has been set free time and time again.

I was sleeping in my car one spring night earlier this year, in a town that shares some of the same nuances of Moab, yet hosts a distinctly different flavor, and operates at a perennially lower volume. It was a frigid desert night, and I snuggled into my 0* down bag, listening to the whistling, whispering desert wind draw its fingers over the roof of my well-beat Civic. Lost in my thoughts, I came up with the idea that the desert doesn't offer much, doesn't extend its hand to feed and nourish. Rather, the desert stands stoically, silently, the liberty of interpretation and self assertion lying in the heart of the beholder. Like a backpacker appreciates food on an empty, calorie torching venture, a soul appreciates the lack of propaganda in the desert, the mind cleansed of input and free to process its own products. It takes a few days for the gunk to clear out, and that's why I came.

Cryptically speaking, a synopsis of the experience would fit nicely in these limited words. I found a life altering book on the 50cent paperback shelf at the library yesterday, which opened the vacuum sealed fluids of my brain to look at some "things" a little more constructively. In so doing, I realized the words that go along with the actions I've been taking, and how it all fits into the collective psychology of women, in my generation, with regard to my personal history. I'll make a post about it sometime, when I've finished the book - it presents some really powerful concepts I'm excited to share.

Anyhow, this voyage into the desert yielded thousands of words of progress on some writing projects, a new haircut (pictures, later) and some time with old friends. And, the soul-soothing vistas of a familiar landscape, which kind of brought it all together in the first place.

(Oh, and a desperately needed kick in the ass, dually brought to me by the deity and human hands that wrote the little paperback into being, and placed it on the discard shelf, and the allowance I gave it to rock my monotonously fog enshrouded little boat.)

I love, love, love teaching skiing. But this live out of a car, sleep on couches and in random trailers life suits me quite well. Travel writing would be ideal for me for the next few years, I need to find the words and means to unlock that opportunity, reconfiguring my off-season rhythms.

Speaking of which, I'm going to hop back into my car now, cruise to Salt Lake, and take my belated shot at some of the new powder in the Wasatch. More to come this weekend, and my beloved cousins are coming to visit soon - backcountry jump, anyone?

Life really is grand. :)

1 comment:

*VACCAROS* said...

I loved reading about your moab getaway!! Im so glad i got to see you and catch up! we need to do it more often for sure!