Sun-Baked Sabbatical

From Icy Slopes to the Poutine Queen: Our Last Leg of Canada

Let Down at Panorama

After a quick breakfast in Radium, we headed to Panorama. The experience started on a high note with a unique standing open-air gondola, but the mountain itself didn’t quite live up to the hype. Between a confusing layout that made it impossible to lap the good terrain and a lower run that was essentially a vertical sheet of solid ice, we weren’t feeling it. We huddled at the lodge over a few beers and made an executive decision: cut our losses and start the long haul toward Sun Valley, Idaho.

One Last Taste of BC

Before leaving Canada, we made two essential stops in Invermere. First, we hit the Book Cellar, a fantastic shop run by a quirky owner and an even friendlier shop dog. Then, we made a pilgrimage to Poutine Queen. This wasn’t your standard fare; we’re talking craft poutine with a twist. Between the Gyro, Butter Chicken, and Meat Lover’s varieties, it was easily my favorite poutine of the trip.

The Whitefish Surprise

We crossed back into Montana with plans to just drive through, we saw that the Whitefish resort had recently gotten lots of snow, so we decided to pivot.

While Rose stayed back to fight off a growing head cold, the rest of us hit the mountain. What a difference a day makes! The snow was incredible and the layout was exactly the antidote we needed after Panorama. By lunchtime, Josh started feeling under the weather again, but Rose had rallied and wanted to get some turns in. She took over Josh’s pass and we charged through a full afternoon of great runs.

Southbound to Sun Valley

Exhausted and satisfied, we began the trek south through the Flathead Reservation, stopping for some excellent Indian food for dinner. We’re back on American soil and high on the momentum of a great day at Whitefish. Next up: a long drive through the heart of Idaho to see what Sun Valley has in store for us.

The Big Arctic Chill

Powder Day at Lake Louise

We woke up to a few fresh inches of snow and beat Josh and Monika to the lot for once! Despite being a Tuesday, the mountain was bustling. Clearly the locals know a rare powder day when they see one. The conditions were stellar, with only a few hard patches peeking through the freshies. We spent the day diving into tree runs and exploring the different areas of the mountain.

-18 Degrees and Olympic Fever

The honeymoon phase with the weather ended abruptly that night. An arctic cold front swept in overnight and we woke up to a bone-chilling -18°F outside, and 8°F inside the van. While we were cozy under a mountain of blankets, getting out of bed was another story.

Josh and Monika were bold enough to get up on the mountain, but Rose and I retreated to the lodge to thaw out and caught the end of the Canada vs. Czech Republic Olympic hockey game. The atmosphere was tense. When Canada tied it up in the third and then snatched the win in overtime, the folks in the lodge erupted. Rose and I attempted one run afterward, but with numb fingers and toes, we decided it wasn’t worth the trouble and retreated to the warmth of the van.

The Icefields Parkway and Banff

While waiting for Josh and Monika to finish their day, we drove a stretch of the Icefields Parkway, one of the most scenic drives in the country, flanked by massive glacial peaks and frozen lakes.

Our next stop was Banff, and between the even colder temps ahead and the total lack of places to camp around town, we all decided to split a hotel room. We got to the room, showered, went out for Alberta beef burgers and poutine, and thawed out in the hotel hot tub afterwards.

Overnight, the cold still took its toll. Not only did Josh and Monika discover that their sparkling water and beer had frozen and exploded inside their van, but our van refused to start. On top of that, Josh was feeling under the weather! After they cleaned up their mess and gave us a jump, we decided to skip the rigmarole of skiing at Banff Sunshine and instead caravaned to Radium Hot Springs and our next ski resort.

The Great Battery Swap

After the van died again at a gas station, we finally bit the bullet and bought a new battery. The shop was kind enough to lend us tools so we could do the swap right there in the parking lot.

With the van finally running smooth again, we pushed on to Radium. We found a quirky motel with a sauna and capped the night with a massive Austrian feast: half-liters of beer, schnitzel, and cheesecake. We’re hopeful that the new battery (and the schnitzel) will power us through a day or two of skiing at Panorama starting tomorrow!

Revelstoke: Valentine’s Powder Day

The Great Gondola Funnel

We woke up to the sound of rain—a discouraging echo of our Schweitzer experience. It was also our first Saturday on the slopes, and the crowd at the base was massive. Because of the mountain’s unique layout, everyone has to funnel through a single gondola, making the line look intimidating. However, the rumors were true: what was rain at the base was pure, light powder up top.

Following a tip from a local regular, we found a lift that delivered exactly what we’d been hunting for. The snow was deep, fresh, and reminiscent of a prime Colorado season. We spent the morning charging through trees and moguls, taking the best runs of the trip so far. After beers and lunch, we went out for more, skiing most of the day.

A Canadian Anniversary

It wasn’t just Valentine’s Day; it was also my and Rose’s anniversary. We celebrated with a double date at a local pub that really screamed “O Canada”: ski decor, flags everywhere, and Olympic hockey on the TV. After a day of burning through our legs on the mountain, we refueled the only way you can in BC: poutine, pizza, and cold beers.

Day two was a “rinse and repeat” of the first, but with shorter lines and plenty of powder stashes still waiting for us. In Colorado, these would have been skied off by 10:00 AM, but Revelstoke kept on giving.

The Rugged Road to Lake Louise

Wiped out but satisfied, we began the trek toward Lake Louise. The drive over Rogers Pass through Glacier National Park was hands-down one of the most unbelievable stretches of road I’ve ever seen. The mountains here are definitely different than in CO: rugged, jagged peaks draped in massive glaciers.

We made a quick stop in a town called, funny enough, Golden for (you guessed it) another bookstore, and visited the frozen Emerald Lake in Yoho National Park.

Chasing the Storm

We pulled into Lake Louise just as the snow started to fall again. The forecast is calling for another four inches overnight, so we’ve hunkered down in the vans, layering on every blanket and sleeping bag we own. It’s going to be a cold night, but the promise of fresh powder in the morning is keeping the stoke high.

Rest Days in the Kootenays

The Scenic Route to Revelstoke

We decided to stretch the journey to Revelstoke over two days, to give our legs a break. The Kootenay region of British Columbia is stunning, defined by massive bodies of water like Arrow Lake. We spent hours winding along cliffside highways and dipping into side canyons like Enterprise Creek, stopping at bookstores and cafés to break up the drive. Nelson was the highlight, with Packrat Annie’s having a big selection of used books to pick from.

A Tale of Two Hot Springs

Further north, our attempt at a “hidden gem” natural hot spring turned into a thirty-minute masterclass in reversing a van down a snowy, rutted-out mountain road. After that comical retreat, we pivoted to a developed spring outside the town of Nakusp that Josh and Monika found. The shower and long soak was exactly what the doctor ordered. We ended the day camping on the beach in Nakusp, enjoying a pleasantly warm (at least for Canada) night by the water.

Ferries and Logging Jerrys

The next morning, we missed the lakeside ferry by a mere eight minutes. In true modern nomad fashion, we didn’t stress; we just popped the Starlink on the roof and watched the Olympics men’s snowboard halfpipe finals while waiting for the next boat.

Once across, we rolled into Revelstoke for some final chorin’ and another quick thrift store pass. Finding a campsite proved tricky though: after nearly getting swallowed by a comically muddy logging road, we settled for a large pullout five minutes from the resort. It wasn’t the most glamorous spot, but the price (free) and the proximity were right.

The Midnight “Local Welcome”

Just after settling into a deep sleep, we got our first real taste of the “disgruntled local” experience. Around 11:00 PM, someone decided to do a few laps around our pullout while leaning on their horn. Apparently it’s a classic experience for van dwellers sleeping off roads in populated areas, but it was a first for us. Once things calmed down, we managed to get a solid night’s sleep, ready to see if the snow in Revelstoke lives up to the promise!

O Canada: Powder and Poutine at Red Mountain

Crossing the Border

We caravanned across the border and (funny enough) through a town called Creston, eventually climbing over a massive mountain pass that gave us our first promising sign: loooots of snow. We descended into the valley and hit Trail, BC, a surprisingly industrial town where Rose and I did a mandatory restock at a Canadian grocery store. We emerged with a stash of Canadian snacks and a six-pack from Vancouver, ready for the next resort.

Our destination was Red Mountain, just outside the cute mountain town of Rossland. For a small fee, they let us camp right in the lot. The convenience of being steps away from the lifts was unbeatable. Once settled and fed, we turned our van into a tiny sports bar. I fired up the Starlink, and we all crowded in to watch the Olympics and play games before the cold mountain air sent us to bed.

Finally: The Good Stuff

After a chilly morning fueled by lattes in the lodge, we finally hit the jackpot. The conditions were exactly what we’d been hoping for: firm, fast groomers and actual fresh powder in the trees. Yay, Canada!

After some runs, we hit Rafters Bar for a proper Canadian refuel: poutine and draft beer. Satisfied, we waddled back to the lifts and spent the rest of the day hunting down powder stashes. It was easily the best skiing of the trip so far, and we stayed out until everyone was completely wiped.

Knowing When to Fold ‘Em

By the second morning at Red Mountain, the fatigue of skiing nine out of the last ten days finally caught up with us. It was a gorgeous, bluebird day, but also a bit of a comedy of errors: Josh and I nearly cliffed ourselves out, Monika’s snowboard bindings needed work, and the energy levels were bottoming out.

Apart from the snow, this has been our favorite resort so far: really similar to where we ride at home with a locals vibe, fun terrain, no lines, and a cool bar. But after a few pitiful runs, Rose and I listened to our legs and called it. We headed into Rossland to knock out the glamorous side of van life – laundry and water refills – before finding a quiet place to park and sleep just outside of Castlegar. Tomorrow begins our trek a few hours north to Revelstoke. We’ve heard big things about the vertical there, so we’re hoping the rest day pays off!

Sandpoint and the Schweitzer Crust

The Road to the Panhandle

We left the Gallatin Canyon behind and watched the landscape shift from the golden, mountain-ringed plains of Bozeman to the rugged river valleys of Western Montana. By the time we hit the Clark Fork River, the scenery had changed flavor entirely. The trees were different, the valleys wider, and the cliffs dropped straight into the massive river: we were entering the “north”. We crossed into Idaho and skirted the edges of Lake Pend Oreille, the largest in the state, arriving in Sandpoint. It was a charming spot with a maritime feel, a lake town tucked right into the mountains.

Surreal and Slushy Schweitzer

We headed up to Schweitzer, which is a rare gem for van dwellers that allows free overnight camping in the lot. We’d rushed there to beat a storm, but instead of the powder we were hoping for, we were greeted by a steady rain that followed us all the way up the mountain. The resort looked ghostly, shrouded in a thick fog, and with the parking lot quickly turning into a bog we hunkered down in the vans to wait for morning.

The Weirdest Skiing Ever

The morning didn’t bring the “reset” we hoped for. We found the mountain buried under a heavy fog and an “exciting” layer of breakable crust over soft snow. It was brutal… the kind of snow that grabs your board or skis mid-turn and refuses to let go. On the bright side, through the fog we were able to see down to Sandpount and the lake from different parts if the mountain, which made for some unique scenes.

Eventually, we found some manageable tree runs off the backside ridge. It wasn’t exactly “good” skiing, but we made the most of it until our legs and patience were spent. We retreated to the vans by early afternoon, ready for a change of pace.

Super Bowl Sunday

Being Super Bowl Sunday (with the Olympics on too), we headed back into Sandpoint to a cool brewery housed in an old government building. It was the perfect spot to warm up, grab some dinner, and catch the game with Josh and Monika.

After a final, short session the next morning to say we did it, we packed up the vans. Next stop: crossing the border into Canada to see if the “Great White North” has some better snow waiting for us.

Big Sky, Big Everything

Chaos Getting to the Lifts

We woke up to a crisp 22 degrees inside the van, a reminder that winter camping isn’t for the faint of heart. Luckily we have plenty of blankets! After cranking the heater and defrosting, we headed to the resort. Big Sky makes a hell of a first impression: it took 15 minutes on the highway to drive from one end to the other, the “shuttles” are actually Rivian electric trucks pulling 15-passenger trailers, and the lifts feature heated seat cushions and wind-blocking bubbles.

The scale and beauty of the mountain is immense, though the commercial feel is a far cry from our home turf at Loveland. When I went searching for coffee, I was directed to a massive hotel only to find a line so long I had to bail to keep my friends from waiting at the lift too long!

“Let’s Split Up, Gang!”

The mountain seemed determined to split us up today. Rosalea, exhausted from the past few days of skiing and a lack of sleep, decided to trade the slopes for a rescue mission: she drove an hour back toward Jackson to retrieve my Kindle that I’d left at a gas station (pretty sweet girlfriend, amirite?).

Not five minutes later, while getting off a higher lift, Josh tweaked a tendon in his thigh. We considered leaving him at a mid-mountain igloo bar to recover, but once he saw the $22 price tag for a cocktail, he decided a beer at the base was a better remedy. And then there were two.

Monika and I headed up a different lift for some less popular terrain. After getting separated on a tricky, snowboard-unfriendly traverse, I ended up on a solo mission through some glades and then a maze of cat tracks. I eventually found myself in a quiet neighborhood of cabins far from the main base. With almost no snow on the ground, I had to walk through what felt like a ghost town until I found an old two-seater lift that slowly shuttled me back toward civilization.

After almost an hour we reunited at the bar to debrief. Between my tired legs from Jackson and the overwhelming everything at Big Sky, we decided to call it early and stay one more night to let Josh heal, then head toward Schweitzer, Idaho, to catch a storm cycle predicted for the weekend.

Evening Reset

We met Rose back at the campsite for a much-needed “adulting” afternoon, tackling a deep clean and reorganization of the van. We spent the evening in our own version of a ski lodge: Monika painted a view of Lone Peak, Josh watched Jurassic Park, I played some bass, and Rose cooked dinner. As the temps dropped again, we called it a night and hunkered down with our books. It was the perfect, low-key end to a hectic day, and just what we needed before the long haul to Northern Idaho.

“We’ve Been Talkin’ ‘Bout Jackson”

The Search for a Spot

After the long trek from Steamboat, we quickly learned that Jackson Hole’s bougie reputation extends to its camping, or lack thereof. Between “No Overnight Parking” signs in town and winter closures on the dispersed camping roads, staying in our vans was looking unlikely. Thankfully, after some scouting by Josh and Monika, we pivoted to a hotel in Victor, Idaho. While it meant a commute over Teton Pass, the trade-off was worth it: hot showers, a hot tub, and a breakfast spread that would fuel us for the steep terrain at the resort.

Riding the Big Red Box

Our first morning started with a trip up Jackson’s legendary tram. With 80s hair rock blaring over the loudspeakers and dozens of people packed in, it felt like being in a ski movie. Reaching the summit, we got a bird’s-eye view of iconic Corbet’s Couloir. It was closed for an upcoming competition, but staring down into that narrow, steep gully was enough to get the adrenaline pumping.

Finally Some Fresh Laps

We kicked things off with a lap down Rendezvous Bowl. To our surprise, the snow was pretty good, much more forgiving than what we’d found at Steamboat. After a few laps on the south side, we took a tip from a local we’d gotten a ride from at the bus stop earlier in the morning and migrated to the north side.

Whether he was trying to “locals-only” us or the sun just hadn’t done its work there yet, the snow was brutal. Imagine trying to surf down the pyramids of Giza and that pretty much covers it. We quickly retreated to the south side to enjoy the slushy terrain until our legs gave out. We ended the day the right way: a long soak in the hot tub and cooking dinner in our vans with the sliding doors facing each other so we could hang out and eat together, followed by board games and a cheesy old Bruce Lee kung fu flick.

The Hobacks and the Road North

Day two began with a gargantuan round of waffles before hitting the southern half of the mountain again, ending with the Hobacks on the resort’s southern fringe. This ended up being the highlight of Jackson: a playground of slushy moguls and natural half-pipes that felt miles long.

While Josh and Monika stayed for one last lap, Rose and I decided to preserve our legs for the next chapter. We began the drive north, tracing the eastern Tetons through snow-covered Idaho potato country and up past the western edge of Yellowstone. After scouting out a few campsites, we found one tucked into a spot in the Gallatin River canyon, heaters cranked and ready for whatever Big Sky throws at us tomorrow.

Steamboat Springs

We’re off on our next trip of the year, a month-long ski road trip through northwestern US and into Canada with our friends Monika and Josh!

So. Many. Logistics.

The trip began with what has become and recurring van-life type of scramble. I came down to the Front Range a few days early to finish the cabinets for the van with a friend Nick, but Rose and I linked up on Sunday, dropped off our cat with a friend Patrick who’s pet sitting for the month, checked off a list of other last-minute errands, and finally pointed the ProMaster toward our first official stop: Steamboat Springs.

Rendezvous at Rabbit Ears

We climbed Rabbit Ears Pass and pulled into a turnout at 9,000 feet to find Josh and Monika waiting in their rented van. Despite the cold mountain air, we hopped over to catch up and inspect their van’s build before retreating to the warmth of our own van. We spent our final night of prep installing the faucet in our new sink and finally called it a day.

Icy Turns and Lodge Beers

The next morning, we caravanned into town for our first day on the slopes. After Rose and I grabbed our passes and everyone was caffeinated, we took the gondola up to explore Josh and Monika’s favorite run on the mountain, Christmas Tree Bowl. The entry cliffs were rough and icy, but the glades below were a snowy wonderland, impressively long compared to our usual runs at Loveland.

The abysmal snow levels in the Southern Rockies this year made for some unsavory conditions (including perhaps the iciest moguls on planet Earth), but we still enjoyed the day. It was Monika’s birthday, so we hit the lodge early for some beer and fries before doing a few more runs. We met a pretentious park bro on the lift that Rose comically took down a peg, and we ended the day with a few laps at the terrain park ourselves.

A Decadent Celebration

To celebrate Monika’s birthday (and Rose’s a few days prior), we headed to Mambo Italiano. The food was unreal! We feasted on cheesy garlic bread and artichoke heart, braised short rib and tasty pasta dishes, smoky marinara gnocchi, craft cocktails, and some decadent desserts like molten brownie topped with coffee gelato and toffee sauce, served on a sizzling cast-iron skillet like fajitas.

Seeking Out Better Snow

While we initially planned for two days at Steamboat, the crusty snow quality convinced us to keep moving. After a less-than-glamorous night in the Craig Walmart parking lot, we stocked up on groceries and started the long drive to out next stop: Jackson Hole, Wyoming!

The Final Push: Sky Islands and Red Chiles

Crossing the Border

The “spooky” BLM land of the previous night transformed in the morning light, revealing a stunning valley floor ringed by Arizona’s sky island mountain ranges. We hit the road early, crossing into New Mexico and making a mandatory pilgrimage to Hatch. We fueled up for the drive with world-famous green chile burritos and red tamales at a local mom-and-pop spot, B&E Burritos.

The Home Stretch

After a grocery haul in Albuquerque to restock our depleted pantry, we faced a final decision: one last night at a remote hot spring in the northern mountains, or the final push home. Though the springs were tempting, the allure of our own woodstove and the cat in Crestone won out. We traded the cold van night for the homeward trek, stopping one last time in Española for pork adovada and carne guisada burritos.

Back in the San Luis Valley

As dusk fell, we crossed into the San Luis Valley. The final leg of the journey flew by, and before we knew it, we were pulling into our driveway. It has been an incredible, sprawling journey, but we have a few things to get done before out February ski trip with Josh and Monika, and it feels right to be back in the comforts of home to close out this first chapter of our year off.

A Day in Tucson

We got up and packed our gear back into the van, deciding to indulge on a town day. Before heading into the city, we explored the west zone of Saguaro National Park. We hiked up a hill to view ancient Hohokam petroglyphs and looked back across the valley at the range where we had camped the night before.

Once in Tucson, we leaned into the city’s vibrant culture. First, we grabbed some coffee a hipster-filled shop reminiscent of Austin’s coffeehouses. With our cups in hand, we walked over to 4th Street to a couple thrift shops and a used bookstore. Then we drove over to Buendía Breakfast & Lunch for Sonoran-style Mexican coffee, tortilla soup, empanadas, and burritos.

Overall, we really enjoyed Tucson. The city has good eats, young like-minded people near the university, tons of murals all over, and is surrounded on three sides by mountain ranges. Definitely worth another visit sometime!

After a quick stop at REI, we left Tucson behind and headed toward the New Mexico border. We pulled into a patch of BLM land after dark; the area felt a bit spooky in the shadows, so we opted for a quick van setup and hunkered down for the night, ready for the next leg of the journey.

Back into Arizona: From the Salton Sea to Saguaro Country

Farewell to California

We began the morning exploring the shoreline sculptures of Bombay Beach before officially turning east. With the eventual goal of returning to Colorado, we plotted a route through the Sonoran Desert to cling to the warmth as long as possible. After a few failed attempts at finding an open coffee shop in the Imperial Valley, we finally fueled up in El Centro and crossed the state line into Arizona.

Scrambling through Palm Canyon

Rose found a detour in a national wildlife refuge that led us toward an imposing volcanic massif. We hiked toward a hidden grove of palms tucked high within a mountain crag of the Kofa Wilderness. At the end of the maintained trail, we scrambled up several boulders and slab sections to reach the sun-baked grove. After taking in the view from the gap, we descended back to the van and pushed further east as dusk settled in.

Sleeping Under the Saguaros

We found a dispersed campsite on a hillside west of Tucson, surrounded by the iconic Saguaro cacti. The weather was much balmier than it had been in Joshua Tree, making it the perfect night to test our outdoor sleeping setup one last time. Despite some midnight interruptions from locals on quads, we enjoyed a solid night’s sleep under the stars.

From Slot Canyons to the Fringes of Society

Fossils and Calcite

The morning began in the cool, dewy air of Blair Valley before we descended back toward the lower elevations of Borrego Springs. We stopped by the park’s award-winning visitor center, taking in the fossil museum and desert exhibits. From there, we doubled back to Arroyo Salado to explore the slot canyon and old calcite mine the ranger had mentioned yesterday. While the mine itself was a bit of a dud, the scramble through the deepening canyon was great, and the ground was littered with pretty calcite shards. We jogged back down the wash, hopping between patches of shade to escape the midday sun.

The Strange World of Slab City

Though we’d planned to camp here and test our backpacking gear one more time, a sudden burst of energy pushed us to move on. We headed south toward the Imperial Valley and up to Slab City. This off-grid shanty town, built on the remnants of a WWII-era military base, is a haven for artists, drifters, and folks living on the fringes.

We stopped at the iconic Salvation Mountain – a towering, colorful hill of clay and paint – before driving deeper into the Slabs. Past post-apocalyptic sculptures, we found the community library. There we met Jeff, the librarian, and a friendly resident cat. In the spirit of their take-a-book, leave-a-book system, I swapped an almanac of the California deserts for a fan-fiction book about David Lynch’s old show Twin Peaks.

Low Elevation, High Character

Jeff invited us to the weekly karaoke night, but the town had a definite methy undertone, so we decided to head back to the highway before dark and push on to Bombay Beach. Once a thriving resort town, it’s now a surreal semi-ghost town where original residents live alongside artists building installations on the desolate, salty shore.

We caught a glimpse of the sculptures at dusk before heading to the Ski Inn, the lowest-elevation bar in the country at over 200 feet below sea level. Over burgers and beers, we listened to a local duo play some classic tunes. Originally, we planned to head east toward Phoenix, but the strange magic of the beach won us over. We decided to camp on the shore to see the art in the daylight tomorrow.

High Desert History and Mid-Day Rest

Ancient Traces in the Gulch

Blair Valley is a corner of Anza-Borrego rich with cultural history, and we spent the morning visiting of view of its sites. After a warm night, we enjoyed our coffee and hiked directly from our campsite into a peaceful gulch. We eventually found the morteros, ancient grinding holes worn into the stone by people who lived here long ago. Nearby, we discovered rock art of a much different style than the petroglyphs we’ve seen in Southern Utah.

The gulch was a beautiful scramble, a cactus cornucopia of teals and greens. We pushed just far enough to the ridge to catch a glimpse of the vast Vallecito Valley stretching out below us.

The Ghost of a Homestead

We moved the van a few minutes down the road to the Marshall South homestead ruins. In a feat of insane determination, Marshall South moved his family to this hilltop decades ago to pursue a self-sufficient life. Though the house is mostly gone, the stonework remains, including hand-built water cisterns and even a small kiddie pool carved into the rock. Standing there, looking out at the Sawtooth Mountains, it was hard to imagine the grit it took to raise three kids in such a beautiful, harsh environment. On the top of the hill we also met an older couple from British Columbia and chatted for a bit, just two if the many very friendly folks we’ve met in the area.

The Luxury of a Slow Afternoon

By early afternoon, we decided to break our streak of staying busy until sunset. We drove to a new dispersed site in the valley, set up the canopy, and cracked open a few cold ones. It was a treat to simply sit, read, and soak in the views. A friendly park ranger stopped by to chat and gave us a lead on a slot canyon for tomorrow. As the desert temperatures began to dip, we finished dinner and tucked in early, fully recharged.

Desert Magic and Salton Breezes

A Morning Stretch and a Hidden Oasis

We woke to a warm, sunny morning – the perfect excuse to stretch our legs after days of driving. Rose and I started with a jog up a nearby canyon before regrouping with Monika to plan the day. We decided to head toward Borrego Springs to a short trail leading to a desert oasis.

The hike took us through a wide mountain valley teeming with ocotillo, cholla, barrel cacti, and prickly pear. Though the trail was hot and exposed, the payoff was magical: a true desert oasis of palm trees, lush ferns, and green grasses sprouting around a clear creek with waterfalls and boulders. We scrambled through the palms for a while before making the descent back to the van.

Bookstore and Bittersweet Goodbyes

Back at the trailhead, we prepped lunch and plotted our next move. We headed into Borrego Springs to explore, stopping first at a fantastic bookstore and natural science center. The shop was filled with books about the desert lore of the area, and the clerk was super friendly and knowledgeable about the Southwest park systems. Afterward, a quick thrift store stop scored me a new pair of warm-weather pants, perfect for our upcoming Arizona trek.

By mid-afternoon, the road was calling Monika home. Between her recent marathon, the cold spells, and five days of car-camping, she was ready to see Josh, her cat, and her shower again. We said our goodbyes, and Rose and I headed back out, passing the town’s famous massive iron sculptures. I was struck by the “lazy beach town” vibe of the area; with the palm trees and the scent of salt in the air from the nearby Salton Sea, it felt just like laid back town on the coast.

Into Blair Valley

We spent the evening driving toward Blair Valley, a dispersed camping area surrounded by promising trails. The drive was epic, offering vistas of wide valleys and dense patches of barrel cacti. To our surprise, the valley floor was carpeted in vibrant green grass. We found a secluded spot in the foothills just before sunset, the nicest spot on the trip so far, ending the day with a quiet fire and a good book.

From Granite Crags to Date Shakes: A Desert Transition

Our latest leg of the journey took us from the high-desert chill of Joshua Tree’s granite playground to the sun-soaked palm groves of the Coachella Valley.

Hidden Valley and the Boy Scout Trail

We woke up in Hidden Valley, a legendary climber’s hub in Joshua Tree. The campground was packed with vans and campers, many even a bit more “distressed” than our own half-finished build, and filled with climbers posting up for the winter season.

While we had our climbing gear with us, we opted for an overnight backpacking trip instead. Our goal was to test out the new gear we’ve gathered for our thru-hike of the Arizona Trail this spring (thanks Mom and Dad!). The hike was short but scenic, offering an up-close look at the park’s signature rock outcroppings and quirky Joshua trees.

Reaching camp early gave us plenty of time to experiment with our new tarp shelter configurations and soak up the afternoon sun. However, as soon as the sun dipped behind the rocks around 5:30 PM, the desert chill took over. We spent the night hunkered in our sleeping bags, reading to stay warm as the remnants of a winter storm sent temperatures plummeting.

Seeking Warmth in the Sonoran Desert

The next morning, we were more than ready for the sun to crest the hills. After a quick hike back to the van and some brats for lunch, we decided to trade the high desert for the mineral hot springs to the south. We descended into the Coachella Valley, where the elevation drop provided instant relief from the cold, and spent the afternoon soaking in a hot spring that felt like a 1970s time capsule.

This region of California is an agricultural powerhouse, full of date palms among other things. We stopped at a unique little shop – part bodega, part garden oasis – to share a date milkshake on a shaded patio guarded by a friendly house cat.

South Towards the Salt Sea

Hoping to find a fun place to savor the warmth for a couple days, we set our sights on the Salton Sea and Anza-Borrego Desert State Park at the south end of the valley. Driving past massive citrus groves with the shimmering inland sea in the distance, we eventually found a perfect dispersed camping spot just inside the state park boundaries.

The change in climate was exactly what we needed. We spent the evening drying out our swimsuits, building a proper campfire, and enjoying the luxury of being outside without four layers of wool. It’s amazing what a few thousand feet of elevation loss can do!

Engineering Marvels and Art Deco: A Day at Hoover Dam

As a bunch of engineering school nerds, we couldn’t pass up a trip to one of the human-made marvels of the world. Being an electrical engineer, Josh was especially excited to get a look at the power plant and the massive scale of the hydroelectric systems that help keep this part of the country running.

Into the Concrete Giant

We drove out through Boulder City into the rugged landscape of Boulder Canyon, eventually making our way to the visitor’s center. We started with a short propaganda-filled intro video regaling us with the wondrous virtues of the Bureau of Reclamation, before heading deep into the structure itself.

Our guide led us down to view the truly enormous diversion pipes used to reroute the Colorado River during the dam’s construction. There were four in total, and the scale is hard to fathom: each one can carry enough water to fill an entire Olympic-sized swimming pool in just eight seconds!

Art Meets Industry

Next, we transitioned to the power plant. Seeing the massive generators and the control booth was impressive, as were the specialized cranes designed just to lift the magnetic cores of the generators for maintenance.

Another eye-catcher was the unexpected elegance of the place. The guide pointed out the fancy marble floors – the kind you’d see in a high-end city skyscraper. These weren’t just plain stone; they featured intricate artistic designs mimicking the pottery of the native Americans who lived in this desert over a thousand years ago. To replicate that amount of marble work today would apparently cost over a hundred million dollars.

Inside the Walls

The tour then took us into the ventilation tunnels in the middle of the dam itself. One tunnel ended at a vent facing right out of the dam’s face, giving us a dizzying perspective of the river downstream and the suspension bridge from the inside looking out.

We also got a fascinating look at the joints between the countless concrete blocks that prevent cracking. We learned that because the dam is over 600 feet thick at its base and Nevada is so seismically active, the structure isn’t actually permanently adhered to the canyon walls. Instead, it’s wedged in under its own immense weight, allowing it to vibrate safely during an earthquake.

Goodbye to the Crew

After a quick coffee at the site café, we began the transition to the next leg of our journey. Since Josh had a flight back to Denver, we stopped in historic Boulder City, a town built from scratch just to house the dam workers in the 1930s, to grab some smash burgers at a local brewery.

At this point, it was time to say goodbye to Josh. Monika headed off to the airport while Rose and I made a few pit stops for last-minute supplies. As the sun began to set over the wide, open expanse of the Mojave, we started the long drive west toward our next big destination: Joshua Tree National Park.

26.2 Miles and a Liter of Beer

Today was all about Monika. She was out at the crack of dawn to start the Lake Mead Marathon, while the rest of us took on the “strenuous” task of being a support crew.

The Lazy Marathon

Since the race route looped back by our campground every couple of hours, our day was a rhythm of snacks, beers, and Sudoku, punctuated by sprinting to the crossroads to cheer. By the final leg, we’d all downloaded air horn apps on our phones and jogged the last stretch with her. We were likely more of a nuisance than a motivation, but hey – only 0.15% of people ever finish a marathon. Great job Monika!

A Taste of Munich in the Mojave

To celebrate, we headed into Las Vegas to the Hofbrauhaus. Monika’s family is German, and this stop is a non-negotiable tradition when they’re in town. We went all in: massive plates of schnitzel, heaps of sausages, and liters of beer.

As we were finishing up, a crew of about 20 bros in matching tracksuits stormed in and started getting spankings from the waitress right away (no joke, look it up). Based on the volume, I can only assume we were witnessing the very beginning of a long, legendary night of Vegas debauchery.

Back to Reality

After saying goodbye to Monika’s parents (who began the long haul back to Colorado), the four of us caravanned back to the lake. We fell asleep to the “soothing” sounds of a developed campground: generators humming and car alarms chirping. Poor Josh is currently is braving it all in a tent!

From Snowdrifts to Sandstone

Today marks the official start of our year-long sabbatical! Our close friend Monika is running a marathon at Lake Mead this week, so we’re heading south to cheer her on and kick off our year in the dirt.

The Snowy Escape

We woke up in Crestone to cold, grey skies, eager to hit the Desert Southwest and finally warm up. The universe, however, had other plans. After a bit of a false start, we hit Wolf Creek Pass just as the snow began to dump. By the time we reached northern Arizona, the roads were unplowed and the driving was white-knuckled.

Luckily, things dried out as we approached Page. We pushed through the dark to White House Campground near Kanab, one of our old stomping grounds. We fell asleep tucked into the sandstone hills, just happy to be out of the storm.

Familiar Rocks and Creative Names

Waking up near Kanab felt like a homecoming. A few years ago, Rose and I hiked from this very spot down through Paria Canyon to Buckskin Gulch (one of the deepest slot canyons on earth). This morning, the canyon was silent, save for one other van.

As we hit the highway, we passed some favorite landmarks: the Cockscomb ridge, the road to the Wave, and a small peak “creatively” named Mollie’s Nipple (the early pioneers certainly had a sense of humor… or repression?). We followed the Vermilion Cliffs west before dropping off the Colorado Plateau into Hurricane, Utah.

The Desert Transition

Even in small desert towns, things change fast. Our favorite French bakery in Kanab was closed, and several other drive-thrus had vanished entirely! After finding a caffeine fix on the east side of town, we headed through the Virgin River Gorge. Watching the landscape transition from high plateau into the vast Mojave basin never gets old.

Before hitting the lake, we made a crucial discovery in Vegas: WinCo. It’s like a membership-free Costco with massive bulk bins. We stocked up on pay-by-weight nuts, dried fruit, and snacks. It was the perfect find for the backpacking trips ahead. We need one of these in Colorado!

Destination: Lake Mead

We finally rolled into the Lake Mead recreation area a couple hours after Monika’s fiancé Josh arrived from the airport. We spent the evening catching up with them two, cooking dinner at the campsite, and watching the desert sun go down.