And so, I landed.

My body is brown, my hands consistantly wash red dirt water down the drain and I'm attached to sleeping outside in my tent sans rainfly to enjoy a full, unobstructed view of the night sky before falling asleep. I wanted to see the desert; and from San Diego to Southern Utah, I got it. What I didn't expect was to eventually become completely enchanted with these open, sparse landscapes of abundant rock and sky, and little water. My last few days spent in the Moab, Utah area (especially beautiful redrock desert around the Colorado River) solidified the spell. I camped out for two nights in the heart of Moonflower Canyon, my tent up against a rock wall whose rim helped to from an enclosed rectangular view of the night sky from below.

The second night a neighbor and I stayed up until 4:00 am, as he put it, "enjoying the show". After a short hike through brush and darkness we reclined on a fallen boulder emerging from the small pool at the canyon's rounded end. Shooting stars, rising and setting moon. Numerous sattelites. The sporradic songs of noctournal frogs and the sound of their occasional 'dunk!' back into the water. Fluttering wings of swooping, hungry bats. None of the familliar, silent anticipation of daybreak usually underlying my cautious appreciation for the beauty of nighttime. Moonflower Canyon in all of her hushed and sublime glory...

Another night I biked up to the Sand Flats to camp where I found myeslf completely alone to enjoy the nearly full moon and flush of sunset on the nearby La Sal Mountains. I spent a night in Canyonlands National Park where a new friend and I slept in a van  near Mesa Arch to ensure our timely attendence at sunrise, famous for casting a special glow across the freestanding sandstone curve. I biked along the river, hiked to a natural  bridge (an arch over water), met lot's of very cool, desert loveing, people and enjoyed every minute of my time.

It was a sad and startling moment when, two days ago, I walked Ed to The Rim Cyclery to be boxed up and shipped on ahead of me to San Diego. Yes, a final biking destination. I can't believe it came, because I can barely remember what life was like six weeks ago before I lived on a bicycle. I can hardly imagine what it will be like now that I have and will return to other modes of being. I will still be traveling for a while via other forms of transport. I had an incidentally private flight out of Moab yesterday with amazing airial views of the river, Arches National Park, Moab, the La Sals and the Colorado Platuea, into the Rockies. Im now sitting in the home of my dear, dear friend Valorie in North Carolina where we'll catch up, celebrate her birthday and enjoy each other's company for a few days before I fly up to New York. I've stopped biking so that I can attend a couple of weddings on the east coast, and not completely dry up the rest of my funds just yet. When I fly back to San Diego to rejoin my truck I will still have open road in three directions (no Chitty Chitty Bang Bang-esque rafting capabilities on my little rig!) to navigate on to the next destination.

But, as soon as I can I'll be back on a bicycle trip. The sum of all my experiences in no way amounts to the vast and deep, reverberating body of things I've learned and seen, people I've met, stories I've heard and moments of quiet personal revelation I've stolen away from the rare quiet of the desert and richness of life lived so freely and openly as on the shoulder of the road, one pedal at a time. I have such heartfelt gratitude to everyone that enabled and supported my travels this summer--even though I am nuts and pretty insistent on being independent. I will post all of my best pictures soon.  XOXO, Aud