Tomorrow morning, Gins and I are loading up my handsome truck, Jack, and heading to Moab, Utah, the Land of Pink and Red. There, we'll meet up with a bunch of friends we haven't met yet and make our way down - up? - the beautiful Green River.
I did this same trip last year with a geology theme. This year, the theme is music and we'll be traveling with a bluegrass band called Small Potatoes. It's going to be AFRICA HOT there - like triple digit stuff but hey man, it's summer. There are at least nine freezing cold San Francisco summers that I need to make up for. (Wearing wool in July is just wrong, trust me.)
Once again, my jaw will drop at the unbelievable canyons of deep reds blackened with the mysterious desert varnish. We will laugh a lot, eat too much and tell our life stories. At night, we'll look at the stars, sit around the campfire and sing songs. There will be no cell phones, no googling and no plumbing. Pure bliss.