Mile Marker: Bears Ears to Home
What's even the point of all this driving?
In every adventure the traveler reaches the farthest point of travel and turns to head home. I am not Odysseus with 20 years to wonder, so when I leave Arches National Park on Friday afternoon I know I’ve reached the zenith of this adventure.
Saturday morning, I watch the sunrise again from camp knowing that I’m leaving today, but before we go the dogs and I take our longest hike along the canyon rim. The walk is slow and deliberate, and I feel no anxiety or lingering burdens from the workaday world. There is only this cliffside and this environment, this walk, me and my dogs, and the grandeur of all we are among. I am fully present without effort—funny how some time in nature can do that.
Previously on the Endless American Road:
After the walk we break camp and I set out to the Valley of the Gods to camp for our last night, and by taking the highway rather than the backroads I shave a good hour off my time. By early afternoon, I am sitting in a decent campsite at Valley of the Gods, which is full of RVs for the weekend, but the site offers no real privacy or shade.
The dogs crawl under the truck to escape the sun, and watching them hide gets me thinking about the top of the mesa where we spent our first night. It is at least 10 degrees cooler up there, and since I spend so much time in the desert as a resident of Phoenix, the thought of sleeping in the shade of juniper trees seduces me. I rally the dogs and soon we’re back on the road, backtracking to where our journey began.
In less than an hour we’re pulling back into our first campsite only to find that someone has taken it. I recall that the intersection of State Road 95 is a short drive north and that there were signs for Natural Bridges National Monument and Bears Ears. With a few hours of daylight remaining, there’s still time for one more new scene.
I turn onto the forest service road for Natural Bridges and, almost immediately, onto Elk Mountain Road. The road quickly becomes switchbacks leading to a beautiful cliffside spot overlooking Natural Bridges.
I gather wood and have a quiet night watching the sunset; I feel lucky to have experienced so much beauty in the last four days. The sun goes down and I let the fire burn out. The next day we drive past the mass of people on Forrest Gump Hill, through Monument Valley, across the Navajo Nation, then through Flagstaff, and eventually to Phoenix. I am grateful when the shower at home finally washes five days of stink from me.
We all go through stale periods in life, and my soul needed this adventure in Utah on Beltane 2026. I needed mostly to remember who I am and why I’m still out here in the West after all of these years drifting like a vagabond.
My mother, who turned 70 this year, came to visit me in the West for the first time in 2023. At that point, she had never flown, crossed the Mississippi, or ventured far from where she had been her whole life in Eastern Kentucky. On that first trip, I got to see this land not through my own eyes but through hers. When she came again in 2025, I watched as she walked out along the edge of the Grand Canyon to peer over in wonder. I saw the sense of adventure awaken in her and felt proud that I got to share it with her.
Sitting by the fire the last night in Bears Ears, I wrote: Let it be known that he lived a life of adventure. That he sought truth and beauty and found both often. But let it be known that above all he was always, always, grateful.
Whatever adventure looks like for you, I sincerely hope you go out there and find it. The world is beautiful and we are gifted this short time to appreciate it. It would be a tragedy if you let the opportunity to explore go to waste.
Until next time!
❤️ 🛻🇺🇸 🏜️