Canyon crawling
It’s pouring rain. The wind is whipping at our tent. Rain bounces off our awning as if it were a trampoline, droplets suspended in mid-air before the wind blows them into the abyss of the night. After ten days of sunshine, the tables have turned. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the clouds continue to darken on the horizon. We’ve been warned of the potential for flash flooding. We’re hoping to hit the road tomorrow and start heading west, but we’ll see what damage has been done when we wake. It’s wild out there.
But for now, let’s backtrack to easier times.
After leaving the alpine hills of Skyline Drive and its world of Rastafarian-coloured forest behind, we descended a steep road via Link Canyon to the small town of Emery, then connected with Interstate 70 on our way to Moab.
As a wave of heat hit our faces, we took in our new, dry surroundings. The rusty red dirt at our feet was a stark contrast to the clear blue sky above, while rolling hills of layered sand fanned out in every direction, mirages of heat quivering above the ground. As we drove towards Moab, the highway climbed to a flat plateau, only to descend immediately, pinched between deep red canyons on either side. Layers of rock, millions of years old, meld together like dried mud, slowly washing away with every rainfall. It’s magnificent to see how water has carved such incredible arches, ridgelines and canyons, forming the surreal landscape that now surrounds us.
Over the last two weeks, we’ve explored numerous off-road tracks around Moab. A mecca for off-roading, the trails here are both technically fun and incredibly scenic. After crawling up and over rock ledges, down slabs, through sand and around countless mini cacti, we’ve been rewarded each night with beautiful places to camp, looking over the edge to the red world below, with no one else around.
Back home, we’re forever looking up at the beauty around us. In a world dominated by mountains, we often climb peaks to enjoy the view. But here, you’re already at the top. The magic and grandeur come from looking over the edge into a foreign world beneath you. Ledges drop away, sometimes kilometres deep, and even though you’re above it all, you still feel small. When you’re looking off the edge of something so open, a little fear trickles in too. It’s human nature not to want to fall, and that discomfort only adds to the excitement, especially when you’re forced to drive so close to the edge.
The White Rim, Black Dragon Wash and Dome Plateau were some of our favourite trails (each recommended by locals), and all of them tested our off-roading abilities. During one exploration, we unknowingly found ourselves on a short section of a trail called Owl Draw Spur, which we quickly learned is rated 6/10 on onX, our off-road map app. A 6 is at the edge of our comfort level, often with larger steps, rough rocky sections, off-camber stretches – a whole mix of fun. Without the camper, a 6 would be well within our wheelhouse, though still not a grade we’d want to tackle alone very often. But with Envy loaded the way she is, technical trails could mean seeing our home get seriously stuck, damaged, or even tipped on her side.
On this particular occasion, we were travelling with our Dutch friends from Alaska, so Tom and I were keen to give the tricky section a go. We have more clearance than our friends, however, so they decided not to follow and took a route around the spiciest part. Working as a team, we navigated the tough canyon ledges. Tom drove one section, I drove the other. The high of accomplishing something difficult together is what Tom and I revel in, and what we looked forward to most on this trip. Though we cherish the adventure of seeing new places, off-road exploration is at the heart of what we love. We want to tackle what others won’t.
Throughout this trip, Tom and I have slowly gained more experience driving tricky terrain, but in this last week alone, it feels like we’ve learned more than in the rest of the trip combined. The trails here are technical without being too exposed, so we’ve felt comfortable tackling hard features without the fear of losing traction on the side of a steep cliff or seeing Envy get really stuck.
How do we tackle it? First, we both get out of the truck to look at the section, plan our line and decide what works and what doesn’t. Next, Tom stays out of the truck to make sure the truck’s wheels are lining up where they should, and I drive. We’ve worked out a few simple hand signals so I know exactly what to do with the steering wheel. Then it’s all about the dance of clutch, brake and gas. On steeper terrain it’s quite easy: pressing the clutch all the way down and using only the brake to lower us slowly makes for simple driving. The terrain here is fairly flat, though, with lots of ledges and steps, so gravity can’t do all the work. I have to gently drive us forward while making sure we ease off each step slowly and gracefully.
I can’t help but feel a sliver of pride when an ATV passes us, knowing we’ve done the same trail (albeit much more slowly) with a camper, no diff locker and a manual transmission. It’s hard to describe rock crawling with words. If you take a peek at our instagram @offweroad, you’ll get a taste for some of the terrain we’ve been tackling.
Not only has the driving been incredible, the weather has been deliciously hot too. The summer we didn’t get in Alaska is now in full swing, and we’ve cherished every moment. Quiet, clear sunrises welcome us each morning, matched by sunsets that set the whole landscape alight, the red earth reflecting the light back with such intensity it’s hard to tell which is brighter.
Seeing Patrick and Orla again has been a welcome break from Tom and me spending every day together too. This is the third time we’ve shared a few campfires, and they’re starting to feel like old friends. Making friends on the road is a unique experience. You meet, bond for a short while over a shared love of travel, then say goodbye. Perhaps you’ll meet again, perhaps you won’t. Each time you do, the bond grows, but there’s no pressure to plan the next meeting, because you both value the freedom of the open road and letting the journey guide you. Because of this, you let yourself truly enjoy the present moment in each other’s company. The fragility of that kind of friendship is something I cherish. We hope to see them again in Baja at the end of the year.
As we said goodbye to our friends a few days ago, we also said goodbye to the sunshine and the freedom to off-road the way we had been. A storm has hit Utah. Because of the dry, sandy climate, rain can have severe consequences here. Like giant storm drains pulling water and dirt along with them, the canyons we’ve come to love are now extremely dangerous places to be caught in.
Having found a free campsite at the back of the Sand Flats Recreation Area in the hills above Moab, we’re waiting out the storm in a fairly secluded, safe spot. Nothing here is going to wash us away, but who knows how long the rain will last.
Two weeks in Moab have left us sweaty, and satisfied. Tomorrow, if the roads allow, we’ll point her west to our next adventure.
