Visitor Information

As I was driving out of Colorado and towards Utah, I decided it was time to stretch the legs. I took a favorite pit stop of mine. I always go right off this exit. I went left this time. I came upon a kiosk. Never heard of this area. Went back to the car and did a little googling. Found out this area has the second highest concentration of arches... in the world. Second only to Arches National Park. Sold. Not going to Utah anymore.

Stop planning. Start doing. You’ll figure it out as you go.

As I continued some light research on hikes and enjoying the fact that my drive time just got a bunch shorter, a couple in an RV stopped. They got out. A husband and wife I presume. After a bit, I got out of the car to start a friendly conversation. The guy asked me, “Have you ever been here before?” I hadn’t. Told him that I literally had just stopped and was looking it up. I rambled on a bit. I mentioned being a photographer, that the area looked phenomenal, and that I was pretty sure I’d be sticking around for awhile.

Since he had been here a few years back, I asked him about any recommended hikes or camping spots. He turns back to the kiosk and map. “You see this road, follow us, and take a left. A bunch of camping along the road. I don’t think you’re going to want to take your car the other way. I remember it being pretty rough. See if you get over here, you can explore this whole side. You should take a picture of this map. That’s right. You’re a photographer.”

I never got his name, but he looked like a Jeff. Shaved head, goatee, and black sunglasses. Jeff had me pegged as either an idiot or someone that’s never camped before. He asked where I was from. Before I could answer, he already knew. I just let him go for a bit.

“You’re not from here. You’re... not... from... here. Judging by the look of those tires, you haven’t been down these roads. I see you have Colorado plates. Denver, I presume.” Each time he started going off I looked at his wife and smiled. She’d smile back, maybe realizing that Jeff had me pegged wrong. Little did he know that I like to sleep deep in the woods for a sizable portion of my life.

Anyways, I went with it. I kept him going with some head nods, oh yeahs, and the random newbie question. Then I asked him a question that I didn’t think he could answer seriously. But he did. So... I said, what is a campground? “Well... it’s flat. You see this gravel? It’s a bit like that. A place to park your car and pitch a tent. Or its like that scrub land over there as long as you’re not up against a hill. If you don’t have everything you need, you can head into town and they’ll have it for you.”

I eventually handed him a card and we said our goodbyes. I figured I’d let him figure it out himself if he wanted to. In reality, I was fully prepared to backpack for a few days and take my mountain bike wherever my car couldn’t. I hope you’re reading this Jeff and get a laugh. I never did follow you. I turned around and went in a different direction. Different trailhead. And, dammit, I did end up taking a picture of the map. I thought about you when I did. You were spot on. This idiot is gonna want to come back here year after year.