I'll push myself up through the dirt and shake my petals free
I'm resigned to being born and so resigned to bravery.
~Dar Williams

Sunday, March 29, 2009

On a horse with no name

After, careful consideration I decided that it was time for me to introduce Tim to my desert, so we planned a trip to the patch of land in southeast Utah called Moab. I think the trip went well, and they seemed to get along okay, but there were some tense moments when I felt like it was a little awkward. Tim cursed the thinly oxygenated desert air (particualrly whilst running) and seemed to think that the sandstone was a little unforgiving during times of grad-student-meets-Entrada. But he claims that he'll come back next year, and hopefully relationships will continue building.

The night before the big race, we hiked to delicate arch (the one shown on old Utah license plates). Note: my dad wanted pictures with everybody in front of the arch - even Tim. Conspicuously missing is a picture of him and my mom, who was contemplating the mysteries from a less vertigo-inducing vantage point.

In the middle of Moab, above the raging city life, is a very large red rock. I really really really really really really really really (continued ad infinitum) love the Slickrock bike path. It's hot and horrid and cruel and impossible and delicious. Just when you think you can't ride another inch, you realize you have 99% of the trail left to get through. This was the first time I've taken any family members to see my favorite stone. Tim and I did the entire trail (10.5 miles of the most wonderful kind of h*^&), and I think it was love at first ride for him. A violent, bloody, black and purple bruises everywhere kind of love, that is (see future pics).

After the boys ran the race, we allowed them to rest approximately 10 minutes before dragging them off for not one, but three afternoon hikes. Michael's daughter Mary Kate came to Moab and was an awesome desert investigator. She asked questions about everything and took home samples of trees, sand, cacti, rocks, and soil. It was so fun to have her along - I couldn't love that little girl more if she were my own daughter.

Notice the center picture below: The devil (named DAD) made me and Mary Kate climb Broken Arch. (Jill, it's not very broken.)

MK and I were just exhausted after the race. We decided to get a little rest and relaxation while everybody else (including those who ran) prepared lunch.

3 comments:

Cami said...

Of course you know what that song is really about, and I know that's not how you toured the desert, especially with Mom in tow (although maybe it would have improved Tim's pain-laden experience).

Joe and Joanne said...

That is one BEAUTIFUL rock. Oh...the desert. I've had thoughts of moving to the desert and this just intensifies them.
Fun pics!

Jill said...

I guess I can kind of understand why you love this place so much. I might just have to venture down there myself one of these times (minus the slick rock bike ride).

Mary Kate adores you too and I love how good you are to her. She has such a ball with all of you.

It was good seeing you while you were here, even though it was a brief visit. I'll take what I can get.