Moab makes me sad.
I've been there twice now and each time I leave I feel I should be listening to Bob Dylan sing some song titled "The Leaving Moab Blues." I get back and it takes me days to get it out of my head.
As one approaches Moab, it seems they pass into some time warp of the weird. Time speeds up and my brains slow down, making the days that go by happen so incredibly quickly that all memories of everything that was seen and done fall into some inscrutable void between reality and the reality from which I was trying to abscond.
On the agenda for this trip were two of the classics. The Corona Arch and the Delicate Arch. The two are unbelievable. I'm not going to try to describe something everyone should just go see. Having said that, the problem with them is that they attract the masses. For me, I love the red canyons and the breathtaking views that jump out from every direction while enjoying it in solitude (or with chosen company.) The great thing about Moab is that even when plans don't present themselves in the way imagined, good things happen. Both times now a detour in agenda has been arrived because of unforeseen circumstance (Blasting on the road? Really? A Ranger got shot? Really?) which left a desire to go back and do the thing that I didn't get to before. (The Canyonlands)
As the phantasmagoria that is my spring break nears a close, I admit that each much needed trip into the outdoors in essence has to "carry" me through to the next. Adventure has become imperative to keeping me going and it makes me so happy I act like an absolute idiot. As we watched for a certain Ford Ranger to clear out of our perfect camping spot we spotted a guy drunk on Moab (or just drunk....most likely both) hanging out the window yelling "I LOVE THE OUTDOORS." I had to laugh out loud. I totally concur, dude.