ON THE ROAD: A SENSE OF SCALE

Moab, Utah to Salt Lake City | 239 miles

Moab greeted us with 7º this morning. We pondered whether to go to Arches National Park in the frigid weather, and I'm SO GLAD we did. The desert sun didn't let the freezing air linger. By the time we went on our first hike around 10, it was in the 20s and felt even warmer. Considering the summer temperatures reach well over 100, I'll take the chill.

According to a video on the park office, this magical place was formed millions of years ago as the sea covered and then uncovered this area a couple of dozen times, leaving 5000 feet of solid salt behind. Then, rocks formed over the salt, the salt spread, erosion hacked away at the rocks, and, eventually, the salt dissolved, and the whole thing collapsed. Some of the earth sunk leaving monumental "fins" of rock sticking up.

Look at the cars at the base of that rock. The scale is hard to capture.

The crystalline snow twinkled in the sun like phosphorescence on the ocean. The crisp air kindly remained still for us. And then we saw our first arch.

It's called 'Delicate Arch,' and we skipped the extra mile hike to get closer. This view was pretty stunning. And so was the hike.

Photos usually capture a sense of place, but in this case, photos disappoint. Words fail.

There's a grand spirituality here that made me feel oh so tiny. But, curiously, at the same time I felt vital and invigorated, inspired and content.

Find the person in a red shirt.

Sometimes it's good to be reminded that our planet is awesome.

ON THE ROAD: ONCE UPON A CLIFF

Cortez, Colorado to Moab, Utah via Mesa Verde | 125 miles

Any day that starts with a wild west roundup has got to be a good one, right?

"Turn around!" I said, as we were driving out of Cortez this morning. Some real, live cowboys were herding cattle right through town.

Yee haw.

We were on a short drive to Mesa Verde National Park, home of the best preserved cliff dwellings in the country. I'd always wanted to visit these curious cliff dwellings, but it was happenstance, not planning, that put them right in our path. Happy happenstance.

About 1400 years ago, a group of Native Americans made their home on top of Mesa Verde (mesa is the Spanish word for table, an elevated area of land with steep sides). In the 1200s, they moved from the top of the mesa into alcoves in the sheer stone walls where they built elaborate homes out of adobe, some as large as 150 rooms. Fascinating stuff.

The road up to the mesa is a wee bit unnerving, winding a climbing for miles but rewarding your effort with amazing vistas.

On the walk to Spruce Tree House, the only dwelling open in the winter, we could see the houses from across a ravine.

This pueblo has about 130 rooms and 8 kivas, round, underground ceremonial rooms. The scale of the buildings was much smaller than they appeared from a distance, their size appealing to our boater's economy of space.

The early ancestral Puebloans were basket weavers, and some of their work is on display in the museum. Later tribes were potters, making beautiful pots to hold grain and water. They grew grain and fruit on the mesa top and collected water that seeped through the stone, and, in one case, from a natural spring inside the alcove. From my vantage point all these centuries later, this life looks romantic and lovely. I wonder if it was more of the hardscrabble variety. The real mystery is why they left. Nobody is sure.

Exploring a kiva.

More dwellings are visible from the mesa top. Their view of us from over there must be magnificent.

 Our drive north into Utah took us by some odd formations.

We ended our day in Moab near Arches National Park.

With one little preview of what is coming tomorrow, Wilson Arch.

Home for the night.

Tomorrow, we're off to Salt Lake City.