We awoke (against all odds) the next morning to the sun rising over the canyon wall of the Colorado River. Little did we know we had set up camp in a National Geographic photograph. Alright Utah, we're even.
There's something you should know about camping in Utah: it is an almost capital offense to urinate in the desert. Seriously, these guys aren't messing around.
Now before you start wondering what the Mormons could possibly have against urinating, it turns out there is actually a good reason for this. Evidently the desert ecosystem can't process the nitrogen in urine, so that if you pee your name in the desert it will stay there, permanently. And they tell you this to discourage you from doing it. Silly Mormons.
Now, normally this would be a problem except that you never, ever have to pee. The rule of thumb for desert camping is that if you are not drinking water (note I said drinking, not sipping) right now, you aren't drinking enough water. And still, you never have to pee. It's actually a real time saver.
Our first day in Moab we decided to hit the Colorado River rapids. We rented two inflatable kayaks, deceptively referred to as "Duckies" (ducks don't float upside down), and launched a few miles upstream.
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| "Duckie" is actually spanish for "Death Trap" |
From the road, the Colorado appears very calm, even tranquil. This is a trick, designed to lure unsuspecting mariners to their doom. The current is very, very strong.
This being my first experience with white water rafting, no one had bothered to inform me that, once the rapids take you, your paddle becomes little more than a placebo. Clutching my (at this point purely ornamental) paddle in a death grip, I flew (usually right side up) all the way back to Moab with all the grace of a piece of jetsam.
Heading back into town
Long story short: getting drunk in Utah is not just a chore. It is an accomplishment.
Mission Accomplished.
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