And it was absolutely freezing. And it snowed a bit. On this particular night, after we were tucked warmly back into our Moab hotel, the temperature dropped to 1 degree. Frigid.
And I have no clue what is happening in this first picture. My back's to the camera, Mark is looking for something...perhaps we were looking for canyons. Nope, none here.



{Caution. Hula Hooper's crossing Street}



And here's a little confession: I don't actually like canyons. Truth be told, I thought the Grand Canyon seemed a bit small {In all fairness, Mark thought the same thing. But he also thinks Mt Rushmore is small, with which I completely disagree. He's crazy. Those presidents were huge!}. Canyonlands was nice, as far as canyons go, but I just can't figure out what to do with it. Walk to the edge, look in, walk to the other side, look in...repeat. Then leave. Canyons are boring. You heard it here first.
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