VERONICA KUFFEL

Departure Log 4:

Birthday Cake in an Arch – Moab, UT

OCTOBER 31, 2022

“The Red Hills of Utah” – Marty Robbins, 1963

The first week of my trip was finished. I spent it with old friends in wonderful towns, for the most part, in my comfort level. But the morning of October 30th was a big day. It marked the first part of the trip I’d be solo. I’ve adventured plenty alone, don’t get me wrong, but never in a vehicle and never without a roof over my head.

For the next week and a half, I would be driving around Utah, visiting National Parks and hiking my little heart out. But before I went on my way, I did some last-call chores. 

Ellen left for work around six–my crusty eyes opened a few hours later. I had gone to grab my dirty clothes in my van and when I came back, I realized the door was locked behind me. For about thirty minutes, I was locked out of her house by my own stupidity.

Service was bad where she worked. I didn’t know which hospital she was stationed at, so I proceeded to call a few hospitals in the area. Luckily, I only had to go through two. The receptionist of hospital one was kind and helped me, with the few clues I had, determine where she worked. When I finally got through to Ellen, she told me she had sent the garage code a few days ago.

We laughed, I banged my head on the wall a little.

Once I got back in the house, I had a cup of coffee from Ellen’s premade pot and finished my laundry. After, I locked up and made my way to REI for my last haul.

I grabbed a handful of things, but the top three had to be snacks (those thin honey waffle treats), a head lamp and a new camp hat. Little did I know the lamp would be a saving grace and the hat a stylish addition to the role I was playing (dirtbag granola hiker such and such).

I’m always a little sad when I leave REI, but I knew I had a bigger adventure ahead of me. Within an hour I crossed the Utah border and was greeted by the gorgeous, GORGEOUS Utah welcome sign. If you read my previous entry, you’ve already experienced my rant with state border signs.

I parked in the alcove near the sticker-plated metal and took a few selfies with it. The sign featured a blue background with the red rock of the delicate arch in front. The words were bright and bold, strategically outlined in a similar red hue. It read, “Welcome to Utah,” with a few stickers from travelers making it to the bottom half.

I met another van lifer who stopped to take pictures, too. We introduced ourselves as solo feminine travelers, and I was elated and encouraged meeting someone doing the same. She was a poet, clad in a beautiful, hippy-dippy purple conversion van.

We drove down to Jackass Joe’s Gas Station and made a loose plan among alien paraphernalia to meet at the Grand Canyon. From there, we parted ways, and I drove the final thirty to Moab, UT.

For miles, the only vehicles seemed to be semis, RVs, converted vans and buses and adventure-style cars. You’d get the occasional sedan or electric car, but it truly appears to be travel country. I gaped at the trailers, Thules and Yahamaras people pulled in awe. 

I pulled into Moab, and my mouth remained ajar. There were converted vehicles everywhere. Most of them are sprinters, buses and even box trucks. It made Walie look like a mouse, but hey–a snug mouse. 

Downtown prioritized road trip tourism. The main street was lined with desert tourist shops, cheap motels and restaurant lodges. Off the road was an area dedicated to food trucks. Outside of town, I passed Arches National Park, home to the arch on the border sign.

Gaining my bearings, I decided to spend a few hours driving through the park and then look through town before it got dark.

I’m going to be honest. I’ve wanted to take this trip for the past couple years. I planned it to the tee, but left one part out. And those, my friends, were the national parks. 

I actually didn’t realize that Canyonlands and Arches were two different parks. You would understand if you saw how many national parks there are in Utah alone (5… which is still a lot). Nevertheless, I hiked a few trails and drove around Arches. 

It’s not very busy in late October. There are these big beautiful crows that spot the sky and seasoned climbers that dot fat-cracked cliff sides.

Back in town, I stopped in a few shops and worked out the rest of my birthday plan. For those who don’t know, October 31st is my birthday. For those keeping up with the timeline, that would make it the next day.

My birthday plan was simple: eat some cake on a sunrise hike. I scouted the trail during my earlier time in Arches, and in town, I grabbed a crumbly slice of lemon cake for breakfast.

I woke up the next morning in Castle City Valley with a handful of other camper vans scattered around. As I drove through the arches, the sun hit the rock pillars and made formations I interpreted like clouds. One looked like a couple holding each other, another looked like the face of a crow. Even more so with the windows and arches, some looked like the eyes of gods.

I parked Walie in front of Window Arches Trail as the sun peeked over the valley. It was a short hike with very few people at the view point. I got a great post and opened my box, forking cool pieces of lemon cream into my mouth. Tourists slowly filled in the gaps as the sun rose. I reflected on past years.

This birthday was a nice change of pace. When I was younger, I would hope people would point it out or in some way acknowledge it. Now, I am spending the day alone, thinking more about how I’m going to spend it than if other people noticed. I am learning to find pleasure in the former rather than the latter.

I’ve also learned to love sunrise in the desert. As light filled the valley, I saw the striped and uprooted rock mingle with green and yellow shaded shrubs. Similar to Colorado, but different. It’s incredible how gradual the landscape changes when you’re driving through it all.

After Windows, I drove to the Delicate Arch trailhead. The hike was a hearty three miles uphill, most of it over a slab of slick rock. It was delicately difficult to be polite. Climbing it felt like doing lunges all the way up.

Even in the off-season, Arches is still so populated by tourists that I never felt unsafe. I met many people, mostly couples going on retirement road trips. The area around us smelled of dusty stone and iron deposits from the constantly eroding rock all around. 

When we finally reached the arch, it was well worth it. Delicate Arch stands in solitude; it’s the only rock formation on the flattened cliff side. The carved rock looked ready to topple at any minute. But at the same time, the natural balance put my mind at ease, and I was reminded of the grand lack of purpose in the environment. 

It’s beautiful, but there’s no bigger reason why it’s here. We’re not meant to conquer it, explain it, and in many ways, even touch it. We’re just here to admire it, and keep walking. Over and over until we can’t anymore.

There are a lot of things like that. And selfishly, maybe my birthday is one of them.