The 10-mile hike out of Horseshoe Canyon lent ample time for reflection. Did I really just move my body over 50 miles through a crack in the earth with my
In the words of the great Bucky Preston (Hopi elder and activist), “I guess I’m an environmentalist.” What was meant by this seemingly simple statement was that through the actions
“Screedle on!” Someone shouts as we descend steep Navajo Sandstone slickrock. This is our third expedition as a group and we are each carrying twelve days worth of tightly packed
It was full speed running. Sand flying, daypacks forgotten, every one of us dying of curiosity for what lay beyond the bend of the sandstone walls. We had reached a
We arrived in the middle of the arid pinyon-juniper woodlands with clean clothes, heavy backpacks, and an atmosphere of anticipatory excitement. Our small group of six students and two instructors
As my watch alarm wakes me from my intermittent slumber, I slowly lift my head from my sleeping bag to confront the cold morning air. It is now early November,
As the first gentle hue of daylight blends with the few stars left over from a chilly night, our fearless leader of the day opens their eyes. They stumble blindly
The morning is cool but not cold. Spared from the wind, I easily boil a pot of water to wake my comrades with. Everyone is asleep under the vast desert