In October of 1991, we flew to Salt Lake City to meet our friends Bill, Gary, Paul, and Peter for a canoe trip down the Green River.

The Green River passes through Utah's' red rock country, then joins the Colorado River which, of course, eventually passes through the Grand Canyon.

From our base in Moab, we met our outfitter and headed to Mineral Bottom.

Angie

We paddled for a few hours each morning, after eating Bill's excellent pancakes. We would stop occasionally to explore Anasazi ruins, look at petroglyphs, or do a little fishing.
In the afternoons, we would set up camp, eat lunch, hike a canyon or two, take a quick swim, and skip rocks across the river.

One day, as Gary, Paul, and I skipped rocks, we explored my theory that it's impossible to skip rocks and be evil at the same time.

Gary and I were debated the possible merits of rock skipping as therapy for evil people, until Paul threatened to skip a rock off both our heads.
That pretty much shattered my theory.

The average evening consisted of a large fire, a hearty dinner, a touch of alcohol, and animated discussions. As Peter was a new member of our troupe, we had all the excuse we would need to tell and further embellish old stories and legends from past camping experiences.

Canoeing here is as much a visual experience as a physical one, because of the changing scenery.

This region is a large geological kaleidoscope.
The earth has taken a number of attractive basic elements like water, trees, and rock (in a dozen different colors); then rotated, jumbled, and scattered them. The elements stay the same, but the patterns keep changing.

Suddenly, that which you have taken for granted, previously, is seen in a new light.
The elements haven't really changed. The difference is in our perception.
Eyes, minds, and hearts are recalibrated.

That is the silent strength of the desert.

The hikes are the highlight of the trip for me.
All my senses are engaged. As an activity, it's physical, mental, and (on a good day) can be spiritual.

Each hike brings new views.  
The Anasazi presence, in petroglyphs, flints, and dwellings, is everywhere.
There is colorful sandstone, delicate enough to fall apart in your hands. The patterns remind us of  Indian sand paintings.

Bill and an Anasazi structure

It's every boys' dream. The possibility of surprise lurks around each turn.

A stream bed ran next to us. We knew that it might be polluted by cows upstream. We could drink or turn around. Knowing that we would be back in town tomorrow, we decided to drink and continue. We filled our stomachs and then our bottles, with stream water.

Scenery in the Maze

Flints were everywhere. They jingled as we walked through them. Peter loaded his pockets, until , he jingled as he walked, so he emptied them.

We circled to a point between the Shot Canyon and Water Canyon waterfalls.

Being guys, we spent some time throwing rocks into the canyon and listened for the gunshot responses.
Then we headed back to camp.

The next day, we were picked up by jet boat, and whisked back up the Colorado River to Moab.

In Moab, we took showers and headed to Eddie McStiffs, a great pizza/beer joint who's motto is 'Pure Desert Product'.
We ate The Happy Caper (prosciuto ham, garlic, capers, gorgonzola, and mozzarella) and the Downtown Deluxe (peppers, mushrooms, onions, olives, artichoke hearts, garlic, Canadian bacon, sausage and pepperoni) with a side of  atomic wings, quesadillas, and a beer sampler (Canyon Cream Ale, Amber Ale, Wheat Beer, McStiff Stout, Raspberry Wheat, Blueberry Cream, Chestnut Brown and a house special).
No pizza or beer is better than one that enters a mouth which has been dusted by the desert.
Taste buds that were dulled by sand instantly and gratefully spring back to life, like flowers after a desert rainstorm.

Or maybe it's just the beer talking!