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.
It started when we realized Jamie accidentally brought my Marmot sleeping bag that has completely lost its loft and any semblance of warmth.
“It was rated to negative 15 degrees in its prime.”
“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.
“What is it?”
When Jamie wishes he could use his vampire fangs to shut me up
“Not that I want any but did you happen to bring some beef jerky with you?”
“But I want sommmmmmmmme!!!”
“And do you see those tire tracks leading up to them?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of the Cherokee?….”
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 