The morning after my first night in Moab I decided to hike in Arches National Park, just off 191. I chose the Delicate Arch Trail. This is the Delicate Arch, the trail's mecca and namesake. This arch is on Utah's license plate, the unofficial symbol of UT I heard.
The sun was intense. Many children whined. And my car had to have been 200 degrees after my 3 hour hike. I needed to find a swimming hole and fast. So somebody told me of the creek just south of downtown Moab. It was cold and cloudy with dirt, and just what I needed. There I met these wonderful women, again from Quebec, Sophie and Julie. They had been to Moab twice before and love the biking trails.
Julie made the veggies and pasta, and I grilled corn on the cob. They stayed with me on my campsite, the one a snagged first thing in the morning before hiking, because it was Friday and there were no open spots for them. So I paid it forward. I was happy to have them, they were fun company.
Julie dropped the pasta on the ground. We ate it, and no one found grit.
This is Chantal and Serge, the couple that let me crash with them the first night. I did not ask them to wear matching black shirts.
The morning after my first night in Moab I decided to hike in Arches National Park, just off 191. I chose the Delicate Arch Trail. This is the Delicate Arch, the trail's mecca and namesake. This arch is on Utah's license plate, the unofficial symbol of UT I heard. 
The sun was intense. Many children whined. And my car had to have been 200 degrees after my 3 hour hike. I needed to find a swimming hole and fast. So somebody told me of the creek just south of downtown Moab. It was cold and cloudy with dirt, and just what I needed. There I met these wonderful women, again from Quebec, Sophie and Julie. They had been to Moab twice before and love the biking trails. 
Julie made the veggies and pasta, and I grilled corn on the cob. They stayed with me on my campsite, the one a snagged first thing in the morning before hiking, because it was Friday and there were no open spots for them. So I paid it forward. I was happy to have them, they were fun company. 
Julie dropped the pasta on the ground. We ate it, and no one found grit. 
This is Chantal and Serge, the couple that let me crash with them the first night. I did not ask them to wear matching black shirts.