Red Rock, Blue Sky

Continuing with our desert story... We saw one more sunrise from our plateau campsite before moving on. I loved how the pattern of shadows on the east-facing mesa and cliff were similar for sunrise and moonrise.

Later that day, we made a snap decision that we wanted to go explore some new territory. At moments like that one, we adore our Labmobile because our camp is mobile. We were ready to leave within less than a half hour.

I have admit that the bouncy, hot, and dusty drive to our next site left me feeling jaded. As we arrived in the "splendor" of the new area where we planned to camp, I commented that it looked like the kind of place that a fugative could hide for years without anyone ever finding him because no one would ever go there!

That's the nature of the desert for me. At first glance, I sometimes think it looks barren, inhospitable, and even ugly. Then, when I settle in and start looking at the world with a happy eye, I realize that it is spectacular.

We found a campsite down away from the road that felt like it was a million miles from civilization. Indeed, during the days that we ended up staying in this area, we heard only a couple of vehicles go by on the road.

Our new campsite was sandy, just like the previous one. Several of you asked how R looked when covered in red desert sand. In fact, we referred to him as  "brindle Lab" during our trip. The combination of black and red was wonderful.

But, I like him looking shiny best of all.

From our new campsite, there was a tough trail to mountain bike that took me along the base of a series of cliffs. Sometimes I rode with the Runner and the Duo, and sometimes I rode on my own. We never saw another person in this area. I keep emphasizing our solitude because friends have told me about the crowds at more popular desert destinations - like Moab.

In addition to being peaceful, our private playground was gorgeous.

The trail wound along, sometimes in the shadow of steep cliffs and sometimes curving around beautiful obstacles.

The word "boulder" takes on a whole new meaning in this part of Utah. Look at how this boulder dwarfed my bike.

Sometimes, I felt as if the boulders were closing in on me. I joked with the Runner that many of the boulders appeared to be perched precariously, ready to roll further away from the cliff. He commented that the boulders had merely "paused" in their downward tumble but had not "stopped". With that undoubtedly true point of view, it certainly is smarter to stay on the uphill side of them.

Back in camp, we lazed around during the afternoons. I sometimes played games with the dogs. Here, I captured Shyla pointing right at me, a variation on her "wave".

She's such a fun dog. Recently, I feel like she's finally understood that she will be part of our family forever. During the trip and since we've been home, she seems more confident and, to my surprise, even more affectionate than before. It's a wonderful evolution to be part of.