(Originally posted February 25, 2003)
Moab was blissful, warm and a true lazy weekend. We did our daily eating at the Moab Diner. I always go for the Biker Buckwheat Breakfast. Marianne and Dave went for a little more variety ordering something different each time, and Kyle wanted his usual Chicken and French Fries. Eli was good eating off of all of our plates. He especially loved all of our pancakes. He inhaled them. He is a true pancake fiend.
Ok, we were in Moab, the Mountain Bike capital of the world and all we did was hang out. Marianne gave us haircuts and colored my hair, we watched movies, looked at real estate (something we do everywhere we go), and rested. By Sunday, the coldest day, we were feeling like we had cheapened the experience so we made our way over to Arches National Park. It was spectacular. Every time I go there I can’t believe how incredibly amazing all the red rock formations are. Kyle was in no mood to hike so I carried him on our half mile walk to see the Turret Arch in the Windows Section of the park.
Eli was falling a sleep in Marianne’s arms and Kyle had gone beyond melt down point. Their little noses were still running like faucets, and we all felt generally crappy, so we decided it was time to head back up to our temporary home. I drove, something I rarely do, and Marianne kept me company. I knew when we hit Price that I wanted Dave to drive. The road gets more crazy and I wasn’t so sure of myself in the van. At about the same spot we hit fog on the way down we hit a white out. Snow had blanketed the area. Cars were off the road. We had to stop every few miles to shake the ice off our windshield wipers. Like the fog, we couldn’t see the car in front of us. We put our hazards on to help cars see us, a trick we learned from the Fed-Ex truck driving in front of us on the way there, and made it through the windy long stretch of Soldier’s Summit.