Coffee Overlook
I'm leaving today.
This morning, after I tore down my camp, I climbed up the crevice beside the petroglyphs at the mouth of Moonflower Canyon. It's a tough climb and I'm almost too fat to get through some of the openings. But it leads to a rock ledge, a small plateau about 150 feet up. I made coffee and carried it up there in the nearly-leak-proof DoubleShot Carbon Credit Travel Cup. Then I laid my bag out on the rock to dry.
I sat up there on this ledge, overlooking the Colorado River, drinking my coffee and writing in my journal. Thinking about the Indians that inhabited this are for so many centuries. They probably climbed up here to look for game to hunt. To keep watch on the river so they'd know when anyone was floating downstream. Maybe as a meeting-place for a large community, so the leader could climb up and speak and be heard. Maybe just to sit and drink coffee. Or whatever they drank in the morning to wake them up (Mormon Tea?).
It's been a nice trip. I'm thoroughly exhausted after a 5-hour bike ride in the heat of the day with not enough water. My body is beat up, so I guess that means it's time to go home.
Moab felt good again. I didn't get much time out in the wilderness this time, but it still feels right. The people here are ok. It's not a place where the average tourist comes to ride a bike. They come, and I guess they probably go to Arches National Park or wherever else they can pull their SUV up and look over (much to Edward Abbey's dismay).
Crested Butte felt a little lonely for some reason, but Moab really doesn't. But there's a common thread through both of these communities. Something I miss when I'm in Tulsa. Something I never really thought about until this trip. People who spend time off-road are different than those who just road-ride or road-run. We're not just about fitness or speed or looking good. We're out to see and experience and feel and take a risk. And I noticed that when I'm headed out past Gothic, outside Crested Butte, or headed out in the desert, people wave and I wave at them. But it's not really just a wave hello. It's a wave that seems to say, "If you need anything, let me know." We take care of each other in the wilderness. Because it's not just about ME.
Anyway, I'm headed back over the next couple days. Back to the long, grinding hours of work, trying not to lose my mind. Or my motivation.
I hope all went well at the DoubleShot while I was away. Thank your barista because I'd just as soon shut her down while I was away. Thanks Isaiah!
This morning, after I tore down my camp, I climbed up the crevice beside the petroglyphs at the mouth of Moonflower Canyon. It's a tough climb and I'm almost too fat to get through some of the openings. But it leads to a rock ledge, a small plateau about 150 feet up. I made coffee and carried it up there in the nearly-leak-proof DoubleShot Carbon Credit Travel Cup. Then I laid my bag out on the rock to dry.
I sat up there on this ledge, overlooking the Colorado River, drinking my coffee and writing in my journal. Thinking about the Indians that inhabited this are for so many centuries. They probably climbed up here to look for game to hunt. To keep watch on the river so they'd know when anyone was floating downstream. Maybe as a meeting-place for a large community, so the leader could climb up and speak and be heard. Maybe just to sit and drink coffee. Or whatever they drank in the morning to wake them up (Mormon Tea?).
It's been a nice trip. I'm thoroughly exhausted after a 5-hour bike ride in the heat of the day with not enough water. My body is beat up, so I guess that means it's time to go home.
Moab felt good again. I didn't get much time out in the wilderness this time, but it still feels right. The people here are ok. It's not a place where the average tourist comes to ride a bike. They come, and I guess they probably go to Arches National Park or wherever else they can pull their SUV up and look over (much to Edward Abbey's dismay).
Crested Butte felt a little lonely for some reason, but Moab really doesn't. But there's a common thread through both of these communities. Something I miss when I'm in Tulsa. Something I never really thought about until this trip. People who spend time off-road are different than those who just road-ride or road-run. We're not just about fitness or speed or looking good. We're out to see and experience and feel and take a risk. And I noticed that when I'm headed out past Gothic, outside Crested Butte, or headed out in the desert, people wave and I wave at them. But it's not really just a wave hello. It's a wave that seems to say, "If you need anything, let me know." We take care of each other in the wilderness. Because it's not just about ME.
Anyway, I'm headed back over the next couple days. Back to the long, grinding hours of work, trying not to lose my mind. Or my motivation.
I hope all went well at the DoubleShot while I was away. Thank your barista because I'd just as soon shut her down while I was away. Thanks Isaiah!
posted by Brian at 10:02 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home