The real monastic walks through life with a barefooted soul, alert, aware, grateful, and only partially at home. -Joan Chittister
Delicate Arch
According to my now dog-eared guide book, the round-trip hike to Delicate Arch would be a moderately strenuous three-mile trek. I, for one, wasn’t going to complain. After being constrained to the passenger’s seat of our rental for several hours, I was ready to reawaken the muscles in my legs and back. But, standing outside …
Newspaper Rock & Onward
Ancient Native American etchings intermixed with names of travelers who had stopped by this rock in the 1800s. I recognized some of the drawings: a man on horseback, bow and arrow in hand; a cluster of animal tracks; a peace sign. Others were more abstract, such as swirls and tight ripples which curled around the …
Day 8: Long House
The second largest cliff dwelling in Mesa Verde National Park, Long House is also one of the most isolated: Reaching the complex requires a lengthy drive from the park’s visitor’s center, a tram ride, and, finally, a mile-long hike through the backcountry. So, when our tram puttered to a stop beside the trailhead, I hopped …
Day 8: Clay and Ash
Fluted vases proudly positioned themselves beside short pots with geometric designs. Starlight radiated from bowls with glossy finishes, and horse hair burned into the glaze of an ostentatious amphora slithered across its surface. Everywhere I looked, pottery crowded wooden tables and glass shelves, each piece vying for my attention. Heather and I had just finished …
The British Way
My plane arrived in London’s Heathrow Airport at 9:00 in the morning, and my biological clock, still set for Eastern Standard Time, told me it was foolish even to try to function on so little sleep, much less navigate one of the largest airports in the world. I was en route to Tanzania for a …
Day 8: Cliff Palace
In the heat of the early morning sun, Heather and I made our way down a narrow gravel path to an outlook already clogged with hiking boots and dusty tennis shoes. After checking the time, I milled over to a wooden fence to look out over the valley below. This was our second day in …
Interlude
Early Monday morning, a feeling of unease extracted me from some indistinct dream and deposited me back into a fusty motel room in Utah. I opened my eyes a fraction to check the time and was greeted by the sun’s rays gilding the floral curtains hung over the window. Perhaps if I lay still beneath …
Day 7: Mesa Verde
Less than a mile after we had pulled out of Four Corners Monument, we crossed into Colorado, the only state of the southwestern quartet we hadn’t yet visited. As we drove, the land rippled in anticipation of the Rockies, and grass appeared where only sand and stone had for most of our travels. Tucked into …
An Intersection of Life
(A version of this essay was a semifinalist in the 2017 I Must Be Off! travel writing competition.) “We made it!” I whooped as our rental car rushed past a mustard-yellow sign decorated with chili peppers. After several hours on the road, we had entered New Mexico. “Make sure you pick up a rock for …
Day 7: Monument Valley
Outside our motel window, the rising sun illuminated the boisterous San Juan River and the red rocks of southern Utah beyond. The sight enchanted us so much that before departing, we chose to spend a rare unscheduled moment to take in the landscape. We walked across the parking lot and looked down at the river …
The Barefooted Soul 