She Lay of The Land

In the April of 2012, I had a one week before taking a new job to do anything I wanted (read: could afford), anywhere in the US. Without hesitation, I flew from DC to Salt Lake City, "Couchsurfed" with the world's friendliest strangers (as one does), and immediately set off to see as many state parks as humanly possible**. In Moab, UT, the place where JEEP of North America holds their annual 4x4 weekends and adventure bicyclists go to smoke pot and/or fall off a cliff, there is a tiny old hostel called the Lazy Lizard. On that particular day, a group of french-speaking tourists from Montreal were passing through. One beautiful woman in a straw hat and cut-off blue jeans, we'll call her Lisette, invited me to join them for a day tour of Canyonlands National Park, 30 miles away. How could I resist?

** This included: Arches, Canyonlands, Zion, Bryce, Valley of the Gods, Monument Valley, Valley of the Gods, Antelope Canyon, and Lake Powell. No, seriously. I really like driving. And desert. It's do'able if you're crazy enough.