A Panty-wad Mini Rant...Dumping On Govie's Unpredictable Polices

Our stopover at the Red Cliffs BuRec Campground ended up being an overnight Port in a Storm—a vibrant Utah hued cove in which to drop anchor—only fifteen bucks when I would have paid a hundred to release my death grip on Goldie's rudder. 

Against The Wind

The San Rafael Swell sure is swell...a 60 million year old layered uplift of sandstone, shale, and limestone that juts sharply out of the ground east of Green River, Utah. I get goose bumps and trigger happy every time we drive through, over, or around it. To me, the swell resembles a Backbone with skin peeled away, exposed to the elements. You can find more "backbones" in Utah, one above Boulder named Hell's Backbone where you can drive the "vertebra," if you dare. Capital Reef forms another backbone, as did every Mormon pioneer who managed to carve a life and living out of this spectacular, but unforgiving land.

You can run but you can't hide

If you live in the western United States of America you are probably aware of the impending storm blowing its way south today; wind gusts to 60 mph and rain/snow/cold spreading into our neck of the desert here in Utah. There's no place to run, no place to hide...I've checked. One would have to be an ass to complain after nearly three weeks of meteorlogical ne plus ultra. 

Klonzo Hills, Gorgeous, Groomed Mountain Biking for Intermediate Riders...and A Few Other Things

There are probably more than a few newbies and wannabees out there...tiring of all the S. O. S. of mountain biking from what has become a semi-permanent boondock. Their vicarious "hitch" has been itching...ready to suck in the slides and fire up the diesel. Trust me, we are winding down; try to be patient while we milk our Red Dragon Hills and weather gods...both of whom seemed to have taken a liking to us.

Exploring Our Ordinary Backyard...Who's Converting Who?

At first glance, our camp might appear desolate to an "untrained" eye. So every day I'm in a rush to ride or hike off toward "The Pretties" of Arche's hoo doos and slick rock, you know...Postcards.

Weeeeee! A Day of Playing on the Slickrock...and, Accidental Civil Disobedience

Above, Bobbie cruises down one of hundreds of slickrock "loaves of bread." That's what they look like so that's what we call them. And Geeze Louise, we are falling in love with the recreational offerings around Camp Boonster II...a quieter, more private site, though not as in your face red as Camp I.

Harmony In An Incongruent Land...Focusing On Commonalities When Co-Boondocking and The Art of Compromise

The Boonster—above, in AM Sundial mode—he's an early exerciser. Probably has something to do with Coffee, as in Coffee Girl, wanting to get the day's adventure started. Can you blame her? She's off-leash, free to chase down every scent, rodent, rabbit, or insect...and so are we. What a way to live—unbounded freedom, unlimited options—plan-less as hobos, at least until Old Man Winter pushes us south.