Moabites, Vampires and Indians – OH MY!!

Forgive me if I am MIA for a bit – I am recovering from the three glorious days I spent in Moab’s backcountry with my dearly beloved. It has been our tradition to go every year. Well, every year that we have not been pregnant or nursing, which has only amounted to much less than annually.

Backpacking is our way to diffuse stress, reconnect and realize that we have issues. Big issues. While most people relax or go to the beach for their childless vacation, we choose this route through Canyonland’s Devil’s Kitchen that is completely devoid of water, requiring us to haul 3 gallons of it in our packs – packs that weighed more than 40 pounds.

But the rewards are out of this world and we always marvel at the area’s sandstone monoliths that stand as if cast adrift in a red rock sea.

That is the magic and perfection of it all. The imperfection is that somehow only the two of us could almost drown on land.

It started when we realized Jamie accidentally brought my Marmot sleeping bag that has completely lost its loft and any semblance of warmth.

“Amber, what is this dumb bag rated to?”

“It was rated to negative 15 degrees in its prime.”

“Yeah, right. The only thing negative in here is my attitude.”

Evidence that Front Range Adventure Boot Camp is Actually Working

“Jamie, I don’t hurt anywhere except for my feet.”

“Well Amber, I hurt everywhere except for my feet.”

The Ultimate Profession of Vampire Love

During the 10-hour drive, I became addicted to Twilight, the first book in Stephanie Meyers’ series on teen-age vampire love. A-D-D-I-C-T-E-D. After the final page, I closed the book and reverently placed it on my lap.

“I want you to know something, Jamie.”

“What is it?”

“That no matter what happens between us, I would convert to being a vampire just to be with you. Because I love you that much.”

When Jamie wishes he could use his vampire fangs to shut me up

During our hike from base camp to Chesler Park on Day 2, I queried,

“Not that I want any but did you happen to bring some beef jerky with you?”

“No, I left it at camp.”

“But I want sommmmmmmmme!!!”

Jamie’s Payback

A ranger disclosed that our camp had secret pictograph etchings on the wall. As we pondered their origins, Jamie proclaimed they were just ancient graffiti by some teen-aged Indian punk.

“And do you see those tire tracks leading up to them?”

“I suppose you think the Indians are responsible for them? Yeah, right. Like they had cars, Jamie.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of the Cherokee?….”

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