Back in the day my friends and I could plan canyoneering trips spur of the moment whenever we noticed a weekend with 0% chance of rain, but since kids came into the picture, we needed to plan a bit more in advance. This trip was planned months in advance in order for our parents to fly out to watch over the household as my husband and I disappeared into the middle of nowhere. Ultimately, the dates that we had chosen happened to coincide with a TON of nonstop rainfall.

We got to experience flash floods first hand and swim through remote slot canyons that in normal conditions barely kept water for more than a couple days out of the year. We had to make nearly all of our anchors since pretty much every one had been washed away in the previous day’s flash flood. Listening to the weather reports on the walkie talkies were a regular occurrence to make sure that we didn’t find ourselves in a dangerous situation. Even though things didn’t go according to plans due to the weather, it was a remarkable experience.

I learned to fly off cliffs in Europe this past summer. Thankfully, I returned to Utah for a late winter. Instead of skiing this weekend, we took our wingsuits to the desert. Amazing second flight in my home state Thank you Hartman for the great advice.

Utah really is a magical place. Sometimes I hate it, but most of the time I am pretty stoked. I have to hand it to them; the Mormons picked a dialed spot. The state’s varied terrain, moderate climate, beauty, and people (especially the people) make Utah a truly unique place. When you get down to the nitty-gritty, there is a reason why people come to Utah for a winter and then never leave. Once you break out past the ski resorts and see what Utah truly has to offer, you get pretty pumped on being stoked all the time.

I am what you call a “weekend warrior.” Sadly, I jumped the gun and got all professional after college with a silly real job that includes things like “water cooler gossip”, little to no sunlight, horrible office team building activities, and a work structure that keeps me staring blindly at screens from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Actually my job is pretty rad but it really makes me appreciate my weekends. When I heard that our office would be closed on President’s Day, my extremely large and smart brain immediately started thinking about how to get out of Park City.

As cool as Park City is during the winter (and it is pretty cool), the town tends to be a bit of a cluster-fuck come holiday times. President’s Day is the perfect example: The town’s population swells, the lift lines are horrendous, and I yell at transplanted cab drivers for speeding through Old Town in a drunken rage starting well into the night. President’s Day weekend is the opportune time to hit I-15 with mountain bikes and head south to soak in some southern Utah sun.

The Mission

We had it all planned out. At 5 a.m. on Saturday we would start driving with our mountain bikes on board. The Adventure Mazda would be our getaway car and we would get breakfast burritos at Beto’s in Heber. Once the essentials were out of the way, our sites would be set on Virgin and St. George, UT. This trip is easy; driving here only takes about five hours and we were on the trails by noon the same day.

One of the true beauties of Southern Utah, besides being snow free year round, is that there is BLM land everywhere, which means you can camp just about anywhere. We found a new zone, a sweet camping site on North Creek that is right off of Kolob Terrace Road. This camping site also happens to be right across the street from the original Redbull Rampage zone. Find it and stay there, this camping site was a lot of fun.

Trails

After setting up Tent City my buddy Adam and I drove on to find the Grafton Messa Trail. I had never ridden it and it sounded like a lot of fun. This trail is fucking terrifying. I like to think that I’m a good mountain biker, I’ve taught youth camps and given private lessons to add to my credibility. But Park City’s endless ribbons of smooth single-track don’t always build on one’s technical skills. So to be on Grafton Messa and pushing it on big rocky lines on the edges of cliffs that fall/disappear into an endless abyss was pretty exhilarating. All said and done, the Grafton Messa Trail is super fun and a must for those of you who like rocky, fast descents. I recommend a bigger bike with lots of travel, at least six inches.

Next up we hit the old Redbull Rampage zone. Hike-a-biking around this area is really fun and eye opening. And I got a sweet feeling after recognizing lines built by pros like Wade Simmons and Cedric Gracia that I had only seen ridden in videos. Adam and I stuck to the mellower lines that our prissy carbon trail bikes could handle. We aptly called them “children’s lines.” They were less terrifying but still provided us with an accomplished feeling. We hit some jumps, skidded some steep pitches, and generally had an awesome time that left us with big ear-to-ear grins. Getting into Utah’s red dirt and having freedom to ride whatever you want is very empowering as a mountain biker.

We rode some of the trails in St. George and got really lost. They have a serious lack of signage. The Barrel Trail is and will forever have a special place in my heart: Berms, jumps, drops, technical rock stuff conducive of Southern Utah, and an all around good time. The Barrel Trail is a must if you’re in the St. George area.

But by far, the most fun trail we rode was Nephi’s Twist. When the Mormons came to Utah, they brought the angel Nephi who just happened to like mountain biking and he cut his own “twist” into the red dirt of Utah. This trail makes you go really fast on some very exposed spines and steep pitches. We lapped Nephi’s Twist multiple times, the trail has a convenient up-trail that makes riding it multiple times really quick and easy.

In the End

While I do think we could have planned our trip out better and hit some other really fun trails, I left feeling content. Not only had I put my tires in the dirt, but also I had taken part in what makes Utah such a cool state to live in. I went mountain biking in February and in less than half a days drive I would be back to some of the best skiing in the world. Virgin Utah is in the shadow of Zion National Park, another sweet spot that is worth checking out if you can. While I don’t think that I could never live in Southern Utah, a trip to the desert every couple of months should be mandatory for residents of this state. The people are nice, the air is clean, you don’t get very good cell service, and there is a calming aura emanating from all the red rocks. Good times were had and I can’t wait to go back!

I always have to thank Adventure’s First Stop for keeping us stocked with beetle-kill firewood, Hurricane beer (it’s like sparkling water with a low alcohol percentage), marshmallows, and a place to poop in the morning.

The Roulette Dealer decided that my money was no longer needed in my wallet.  Or at least it seemed that way by the veracity of which he kept hitting Red while my bets sat lonely on Black.  If it weren’t for the bottomless Mimosas, the shittiest all-you-can-eat buffet imaginable, and the deprecating way the dealer kept taking my chips – I wouldn’t feel nearly as welcome.

Welcome to the desert. I’ll let myself in.

As all worthwhile trips appropriately start – with psych as a fuel and full strength beer for lubricant – we wandered our way in search of sunshine and warm stone.  I’ve decided now that these midwinter trips are the cure for “Gym Climbing Fever” – and as for all trips with seemingly dynamic objectives they prove to always be beneficial for the psych.

Moes Valley, UT – one of the prestigious bouldering destinations in the west, a crater like field of featured blocs, is an endless playground limited only by the durability of the skin on your fingertips.  Andrew Lam, Anthony Hedberg, Martine Nichols, Marley Nelson, Jade Martinsen, our puppy Luna and I comprised our clan to tackle some well-earned pebble wrestling.   After warming our limbs, removing our shirts (briefly) Hedberg, Lam, and Marley gave a good showing on Linder’s Roof – a classic V9 that followings a series of decent holds to a heinous cross.

Lam making the crux move on Linders Roof

Hedberg repeated Israil direct (V8) – with much ease.  Beyond being too strong for his own good, he has the beastliest shoulders of anyone I know.

We made our rounds, repeated some easier classics and joined a crew mobbing Dead Rabbit (V10).   This problem is amazing with small but positive holds through an overhanging face.  With decent beta spray, some kneebarring trickery, and vocal support, Lam made a good showing climbing all the moves but unable to link from start to end.

With the remaining tingling feeling in our hands, we switch gears and headed to Snow Canyon State Park.  Without a guidebook, my vague glance at a topo a few days earlier was all we had to go on as we searched for the classic route, Living on the Edge.  Located immediately off of the road that runs through the park, it wasn’t hard to find. The route trends on the edge of a large alcove following amazing patina plates and jugs.  Being so close to the road, we attracted a large crowd of sightseers who jeered us on and took photos.

At 5.10, this route has moved its way up the charts in my book to the status of ultra-classic.  We made quick work of the 3 pitches, laughed at the hollowness on some of the holds on the upper pitches, and rappelled.  Multi pitch sport climbing at its best and I highly recommend it.

Thanks to the generosity of Jade’s grandparents, we were put up in their vacation home in Mesquite, NV.  We cruised down through the Virgin River Gorge, and after a hefty meal of Mexican food, we threw down for a night of light “grand larceny”.  After a short hour of straight brutality by a humorless dealer with the first name “Lino” – we settled in back at the house and correctly decided another round of the “Martini Chugging Contest” WASN’T in order.

Warming up at the Cathedral

In the morning we slammed back homemade breakfast burritos, bloody marys, and racked our quickdraws.  We ventured out to Welcome Springs in search of the infamous Cathedral and desert limestone.  It’s in the moments on the dirt road heading out to a new area when the imagination burns and the diminutive sense of adventure and potential begin to manifest.  Followed by the moment when the beauty of the stone reveals itself and these emotions culminate.  Photos only share a fraction of the experience.  It’s the realness of being there, this portion that is left in the heart.

The Infamous Cathedral

We clambered up into the cave of stone, covered on all sides by paths of most-resistant and fixed draws.  We traced the lines with our fingers and imagined the strength expressed during each climbers effort to triumph on the routes.

We warmed up. Lam set his sights on flashing the project we came for, Spring Loaded, an inspiring 13a that climbs to the edge of the cave’s left flank.  He floated through the lower 12b section of the route, only stymied by a few in-obvious movements, and rested at the mid anchor.  He loaded up and got dynamic clipping the remaining 3 bolts to the upper anchor.  First 5.13!! Psyched!

Lam hucking it on his way to the anchor on Spring Loaded, 13a

As we drifted back on the freeway headed to Salt Lake, another amazing trip with great friends logging its way into my memory,  I could only bask in the stoke for the future. The mantra stands true: on wards and upwards into the great unknown, with good company close at hand, and new experiences to share.

Ever since laying my hands on Chris Davenport’s Fifty Classic Ski Descents in North America, I have been dying to ski-mountaineer in the La Sals. With the Wasatch snowpack being a sugary heap of facets, my dad and I decided it was the perfect time to chase down some 12k peaks in the La Sals and get in some climbing at the same time.

Winter in Moab is the greatest kept state secret. Rather than dodging RVs full of big-bellied heartland-ers and heavily-accented Euros in 100+ degree weather, we found ourselves utterly alone at Wall Street, Moab’s most popular climbing crag. Classic trad-cracks and inventive sport climbs that usually have teams queued up at the bottom, were empty and eager to take my gear. While it was far from balmy, sandstone retains heat well and with the sun on the rock, my hands felt good in-between red blocks of stone. Looking out, the La Sals beckoned and my heart traipsed about, happy at the prospect of skin-assisted exploration.

On our first morning, I woke up to an extremely ill-timed and nasty bout of Strep but was determined to head into the La Sals even if it was just for a short tour. While the weather was clear in Moab proper, as we began our ascent to Geyser Pass, the sky overhead became blanketed with shifting cumulous clouds. We watched in astonishment as the car thermostat dropped to 0 degrees. At the well-used parking lot, we layered-up aggressively against the sharp cold and vicious wind. Despite the less-than-bluebird conditions and my rapidly diminishing health, we toured up to some promising looking open trees on the North-west banks of Mt. Mellenthin. At the end of our ascent, we looked down upon the red bluffs below. The juxtaposition of the harsh mountain environment and the dessert landscape below was shocking. On the descent we were gratified with some surprisingly good snow and playful tree turns.

While I had only been in the range for a few hours, already I was impressed by the wildness and dramatic setting of the la Sals. While Backcountry Skiing in Utah and a few other sources (including moutainman extraordinaire, Alex Quitiquit) had provided decent beta, we hadn’t expected to meet such challenging conditions in this odd-ball grouping of outcast peaks. I couldn’t believe the potential of the place. I spent the rest of the day urging my immune system to pick up the fight while hiking about an eerily empty Arches National Park.

The next morning, I felt quite a bit stronger and my dad and I decided to head in the direction of Mellenthin and Laurel Peaks on the off-chance that the weather and snowpack would support a summit attempt. While the skies were clear and the wind seemed to have died down significantly, it was much colder than the previous day.

The local avalanche report gave the current temperature on the top of Pre-Laurel Peak (which was on our route) at a balmy -9 degrees. We were not deterred. Heck, I go ice climbing which is always MISERABLY cold. So, we packed like yetis and began the steady ascent up the “Laurel Highway” climbing trail. While the climb was forgiving and gradual, the temperature in shaded tree areas dropped to around -20. Frozen in the extremities, we continued to climb until we broke tree line.

On the unprotected ridgeline, gusts of powerfully pissed-off cold air tried their best to push us off the mountain. Determined to at least get on top of something before the clouds blew in again, we pushed on to the summit of Laurel (12,271 ft). We debated continuing but upon looking down the connecting ridgeline to Mellenthin, we determined that the peaks had been blown bare to the point where boot-packing would be our only mode of travel…for the next several miles.

Yeah, we left that experience for the spring and more stable avalanche conditions.

After reaching our lack-luster peak, we quickly pulled skin and enjoyed excellent snow down through the “North Woods.” With white noses and foggy heads, we bundled into the car feeling sobered. The La Sals were no joke! The skiing was straightforward but the conditions were truly alpine. Naturally, I was psyched! Who knew?! Southern Utah!

In the spring, this place will be paradise.

The next day, we had a good breakfast and headed back to Arches, keen on wandering around an momentarily empty park. After an excellent hike to Tower Arch combined with some stellar bouldering en route (Note: if dancing up inflated pebbles is your thing-check this place out! Huge potential), we headed to Baker slabs for some techy friction climbing at the back end of the park.

Tired and still coughing, I spent the drive back to Park City going over maps trying to piece together a route that would allow for a traverse of all of the major La Sal summits. Come spring-It’s happening. For now, keep praying for more snow.