There is something about the desert that draws us to it. Like spiritual meccas we travel to places such as Death Valley, Las Vegas, Palm Springs, The Grand Canyon, and Zion to clear our minds and find refuge in a place otherwise thought of as desolate. It has been the American way to seek out these places longer than any of us have been alive, from the time of Manifest Destiny until now. Perhaps the pioneer spirit lives on in all of us. Or maybe we just need to step out of our respective bubbles once in a while to remind ourselves that we live in the midst of an expansive, unforgiving wilderness that many of our forefathers lost their lives in, and people still lose their lives in today. Whatever the reason is, I am one of those people.

I am not the most traveled man nor am I the least. I am somewhere in the middle, able to say that I’ve experienced every climate the United States has to offer and visited a few other countries. I spent one month in Switzerland, staying in a house in Lungern owned by a hunter who once showed me his Sig 550 rifle, and the goat he had just shot with it. I spent three months in Puntarenas, Costa Rica, living on a Hylas 49 sailboat by myself; my boss at the time was paying me to live on it and watch over it. My boss then flew down and we sailed to Panama, where I spent two weeks. In my younger years I was able to travel the United States on two separate occasions in an old Nissan. Unsurprisingly, the United States was beautiful and exciting at every stop. But there is just something about the desert that holds a special place in my heart, and almost every year I find myself venturing into it in one way or another. This year it was Utah.

The first destination was St. George, Utah and the state park next to it: Snow Canyon. St. George is a beautiful area, rich in history of the Mormon settlers and their place in pioneering the western United States. Although not a Mormon myself I love learning about history and respect what the Mormon settlers did for the state of Utah. Brigham Young’s house was an interesting stop and very well preserved. Taking the tour of the house and learning about the beginnings of Utah helped me to better appreciate the surrounding landscape.

On the outskirts of St. George lies one of Utah’s many unique slot canyons.

The next day, July 4th, we ventured out into Snow Canyon State Park, which was dead quiet. Only two or three cars drove by the entire time, which left an eerie feeling as we walked from our car out onto the sand dunes beneath towering cliffs. It was a 4th of July well spent.

A couple of days later we hit the road and headed for the legendary Zion National Park. Our most anticipated hike was certainly The Narrows. If you are looking for a unique hike that consists of walking through water 90% of the way then The Narrows is your answer. The staggering cliff faces towering over you on both sides are reminiscent of Lord of the Rings, and the pine trees add to the feeling that Uruk-hai are going to appear at any moment.

Outside of Zion is a ghost town called Grafton. One of my more humbling moments in Utah was walking by the Grafton cemetery and reading the sign indicating how the people had died. Several of them had been “Killed by Indians,” and several newborns had died in the town, as expected. It’s always a good thing to take a moment and remember what the people that came before us did for this country. Without them and their iron wills we wouldn’t be here today.