Sun-Baked Sabbatical

Today we entered Canelo Hills West, Passage 3 of 43. We dropped in elevation and into a much different place. Short grass, gnarled mesquite trees, and blooming wildflowers defined the landscape. Met two cowboys on horseback out hunting. Their pack of 20 similar-looking dogs found us first. A little uncanny but they were friendly and cute. The two men couldn’t believe we are walking to Utah. “We drive to Utah pretty often and that sucks!”

Meant to do a short day, but got to smelling the barn and long-hauled into Patagonia, the first town stop. Hitched a ride with a young woman and her dad out dirt biking for the day. They dropped us off at the Stage Stop Inn, a nice historic spot with a restaurant attached. We gorged on burgers and beers.

Hiked to the creek coming out of the lake. Very idyllic in the morning. Then we ascended into the Canelo Hills, Passage 2 of our hike. The hills were like an African savanna, tall golden grass sparsely punctuated with scrubby oak trees. Made it to a scenic campsite near the end of the passage. Finally, a good one.

Got up and headed along the ridge of the Huachucas for a few miles, finally out of the wind. Eventually started descending from pine forest through oak brush. Met Trapdoor at a water source and leapfrogged him a couple of times during the day. He got his name from when his hammock tent gave out from under him one night and he went through it like a trapdoor. Got down to a big natural lake and soaked our tired feet. Camped nearby. Another mistake… tons of mosquitoes. Didn’t think they had those in Arizona!

Woke up in Sierra Vista and had motel waffles. A trail angel named Clyde drove us to Montezuma Pass, pointing out facts about the sky islands along the way. Once we were dropped off, we hiked a couple of miles south to the Mexican border, the official start of the trail. Lots of loud construction. Then we hiked a couple thousand feet up into the Huachuca Mountains and eventually stopped at Bathtub Spring. Met Lone Wolf, a thru-hiking veteran with tons of trails under her belt, and Ariana, on her first (many thru-hikers have “trail names” they’ve earned from friends on the trail, usually with some funny story or personality quirk behind them). Rose wasn’t feeling super well so we camped up on a ridge near the spring. It was a terrible choice… turns out we picked the mouth of a wind funnel and it was blowing hard all night.

Tomorrow Rosalea and I start our next big adventure, hiking the Arizona National Scenic Trail from the border with Mexico all the way to Utah. The trail spans over 800 miles and traverses through a huge variety of Arizona’s natural wonders, from the sky island mountain ranges and saguaro cacti in the south, to the great pine forests and Grand Canyon in the north. It will definitely test our physical and mental fortitude, but will hopefully present us with lots of wonder and excitement too.

Today we picked up a rental car in Colorado Springs and drove southwest to Sierra Vista, AZ, a small town near the border that acts as a gateway to the trail’s southern terminus. The drive was 800 miles… and it really put into perspective how long it will take to hike this same distance we drove in a single day. Buckle up!

Salt Lake City: Mashed Potatoes and Mole

Return to the Wasatch

We crossed the border back into Utah, feeling that familiar relief that comes with being in our favorite state. We beat Josh and Monika to Salt Lake City and made a beeline for Ken Sanders Rare Books. For any book lover, this place is legendary – the collection of Western Americana and desert history is unmatched. After dinner at an Indian and a frustrating search for van-friendly camping (SLC is another city notoriously tough on overnight parking), we admitted defeat and booked an Airbnb in Sandy.

Skiing in Snowbird

In the morning, we made the quick dash up Little Cottonwood Canyon to Snowbird. Compared to the trek from Denver to the mountains, the proximity of Salt Lake to the resorts feels like a cheat code… at least on a Wednesday. Snowbird has been getting hammered with snow lately, but the most recent storm came in warm. We spent the day navigating what felt like mashed potatoes, but it was still fun compared to lots of the conditions we faced this month!

By early afternoon, the fog rolled in and the wind picked up. Between the conditions and a month of non-stop movement, my legs were officially done. Rose and I headed back to town for some “cat therapy” at a thrift store with resident felines, much needed after being away from our own kitty all month.

Mexican Food? In Salt Lake?!

We met Josh and Monika for a final celebratory dinner at Red Iguana, a favorite of her family’s. If you’re in Salt Lake, the mole there is non-negotiable. Really good stuff! We left fat and happy, retreating to the Airbnb to do absolutely nothing but watch episodes of Fear Factor all night. It was the perfect, low-stakes end to a high-adrenaline month.

Desert Solace and the Road Ahead

This morning, we said our goodbyes. Josh and Monika are booking it back to Denver, but Rose and I are taking the leisurely way home. We spent the day hitting a few more SLC spots before driving out to Green River. We kept our driving-through-Utah tradition alive with burgers at Ray’s Tavern before heading out into the BLM land near town.

There is nothing quite like the silence of the desert to help you decompress, and we’re, glad to be back in the land of “camp wherever you want.” Tomorrow, we make the final push to Denver to grab Rose’s truck, then it’s back to Crestone for some serious recovery before our next big adventure: hiking the Arizona Trail.

High Class and Hot Springs: Sun Valley

The Scenic Road to Hailey, Idaho

The haul from Whitefish to Sun Valley was our longest stretch in a while – six hours of shifting landscapes. We descended from the northern Idaho mountains into the Snake River Plain, winding through the surreal volcanic rock deposits of Craters of the Moon before climbing back up into the Wood River Valley. Rosalea has relatives in the nearby town of Hailey that were generous enough to provide us with the holy trinity of road-tripping for a couple nights: a home-cooked meal, a hot shower, and a real bed.

Old School Elegance

Sun Valley Resort is “old money” in the best way possible. The lodge is a masterpiece of mountain class, complete with massive chandeliers and grand wooden staircases. Since it was a Monday, we practically had the mountain to ourselves. While the natural snow was a bit thin, Sun Valley’s legendary snowmaking came in clutch. We quickly realized the groomed runs were the place to be, offering nice, consistent snow that our tired legs appreciated.

To celebrate the home stretch of our trip, Monika treated us to a round of cocktails at a mid-mountain lodge that was just as fancy as the base. It was the perfect moment to toast to the thousands of miles we’ve covered.

Redemption at the Hot Springs

With my legs officially cooked, Rose and I decided to skip the final afternoon laps and hunt down a natural hot spring her family had recommended. After our failed attempt back in Canada, this was my first real natural spring experience, and it was a total success.

We spent the afternoon soaking where the scalding spring water mixes with the freezing river. We shared the pool with some fellow travelers and a group of kids whose hooliganisms and theatrical personalities kept us entertained for a while – one of them reminded me of Katie! It was the exact reset we needed.

The Final Push

We capped the night back at the house with chili and cornbread, followed by a hilariously sorry attempt at a game of Codenames. Our brains and bodies are clearly ready for the finish line. Given the conditions, we’ve decided to trade a second day here for an early start toward our final stop: Snowbird, Utah.

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.