Lift off from O69 to Canyonlands, Utah was on the wings of angels; no teeth of turbulence, no evil glower of mountainous build-ups, no anxiety of “What next?”. My destination is Moab, Utah a place where you wash your soul in the wind, where night skies are thick with galaxies and where the history of the ancients can still be heard in the red sandstone rocks.
There were four hours of soaring over a land so vast and profound only time can remember the details. Upheavals, cliffs and mesas are furrowed into creases like ancient faces leathered by the sun and wind. A light so brilliant reflects off dry lake beds, silent reminders that they too yield memories of an aqueous time. The west, our west, a land where the spirit knows no confine, where the connection between all that lives in our souls.
The beauty of this landscape can be subtle and alien. Your eyes strain to rationalize a land so without water. But look closer, sink deeper to the understanding that lives persistent and ancient have known these wild lands as home. Humans, animals, insects, amphibians, reptiles and fish have all adapted, by trial and error, to become a superior genetic line that can endure the harsh demands. You get a sense that there is a wealth of knowledge deep in the bones of the land.
My good buddy, Mosley, our 11.5 year old Neufie is with me again on the flight. He’s not too ambulatory anymore and getting him out of the plane was a real challenge. I take the back seats out so he has lots of room wedged between my bicycle, gear and house supplies. I don’t know who was more excited to land, Mo or I. Taxing to the ramp a couple of “welcome back Cindy” came over the mike. The airport community has become a new family since I’ve joined up to fly for Redtail Aviation.
The best way to get Mo out of the plane, after 20 hot minutes of failing to get his 145 lbs. up, was to pull him out backwards onto the wing, then slide him down to the ground. My back has barely recovered from that circus!
Besides the excitement of a new job the new house construction, which should have been finished by early April, will probably wrap up around early June. Some days a blizzard of sand beats at the doors and windows. The crew are all wonderful. It’s been a pleasure having them in our lives. Wake up is usually a concrete truck’s back up horn around 7am. Many details to decide in a split moment, many details of planning dropping into play. I’ve loved every moment of it.
Moab is a place so special, I’d like to share it with all of you. If you’re in need of a get away, looking for vacation destination, need a spiritual renewal, please come stay with us. You too will rejoice in your wings soaring above a land who’s beauty is as vast as time itself.
Marin County 99s 