I’m headed off to chase some sunshine around the Utah desert. On Friday I’ll be driving out to Moab to volunteer at the Moab 200 Mile Ultra race + the Mad Moose Events Canyonlands Other Half race for a long weekend of sand + sun. After I recoup from the sleepless nights + a long run of sweeping the Moab 200 course I’m headed further west. My destination is Capital Reef, for another long weekend of arches + pillars in the middle of the desert.
If all goes as [tentatively] planned I’ll have nearly two weeks of working + wandering along sand blown desert-scapes. My nights will be spent in the back up my Subaru or curled up in a new-to-me Nemo tent [if I’m ambitious enough to put it up!]. My days will be surrounded by sweaty runners or becoming a sweaty runner myself. That is quite literally the extent of my plans. Well, that + eating. I should probably figure out where I put my cook stove. This bout of fun-employment thing is taking a toll on my bank account + eating out is not allowed to happen.
I’m excited…ultras are always a motivating blast to work + the photos I’ve been perusing of Capital Reef look stunning. Yet, I’m a little stressed about leaving Summit County.
oh, Summit, you so beautiful…
Why!? Oh, not for the reasons you’d expect someone to be stressed about; such as depending on a car with 179k miles or finding places to sleep in an unknown area. Naw, those things don’t bother me until they implode in my face.
Instead, I’m stressed out about leaving behind my sourdough starter, kombucha mother, sprouting herbs + composting worms. Who am I?! Who have I become!? Somehow I’ve managed to acquire all of these ‘living’ responsibilities since I returned to Colorado…barely two months ago.
A year ago [heck, two months ago] I could spend 30 minutes rummaging through the totes that count as a closet in my life + be out the door…adventure bond. I needed to do little more than toss gear in my car [or a friend’s car, until I recently acquired my own car] + find a gas station for fuel + snacks. That is no longer the case + it took exactly one month for my domesticated, homesteading ways to throw a wrench in my nomadic ways.
As I was rolling out my second go at sourdough pizza crust I realized I couldn’t leave until I hibernated my sourdough starter for my two-week hiatus. I could probably talk Robb into feeding the sourdough every day, but then I’d return home to heaps of sourdough taking over the kitchen. Plan B — feed the sourdough + pop it in the fridge to slow it down until I returned.
a stretch of the Moab 240 course, taken while the volunteers + RDs were out marking it up!
Well, that was easy. Except it got me thinking…I had two batches of kombucha fermenting that weren’t due to rotate until 5 days into my trip west. Uh. Okay. Um. I guess I could let it continue to ferment until I returned, although I’d end up with some way-too-strong-for-me kombucha. My other option was to bribe Robb into making the switch. But the whole process is kind of a pain…even for someone who enjoys doing it. Besides, at this point, I realized I’d need to save all my bribery to convince Robb to help keep my herbs + worms alive.
Besides, at this point, I realized I’d need to save all my bribery leverage to convince Robb to help keep my herbs + worms alive.
Enter Plan C; really, really nicely ask Robb to put all the kombucha into the fridge once it hits the ideal fermentation date. I’d just have to cross my fingers that this would slow the fermentation enough that I wouldn’t end up with flavored vinegar. Hopefully, my kombucha scoby would be cool with this, because it’s doing a bomb job of fermenting sweet tea!
another photo of the Destination Trails crew marking up the Moab 240 course…because I have no photos to prove I even do any of this homesteading that’s put my life into a tizzy.
more proof I’m losing my mind!
I’m two days away from my venture to the desert + I haven’t packed yet. That doesn’t bother me — I’ll get around to that, but not until after I buy a squirty bottle for watering the herbs + dice up veggies for the worms. Yes…I’m pre-dicing veggies for my composting worms. They’ll get divvied up into little containers in the fridge, waiting for Robb to rake them into the worm farm. I think I’d be okay without feeding the worms? I heartlessly murdered some last year, so I’m all sorts of worried these guys may die from abandonment! In my defense the potatoes I plan to sacrifice to the worms wouldn’t be worth eating by the time I get back. Probably.
At this rate, I’ll need to spend the entire drive to Moab convincing myself I haven’t lost my mind or my nomadic ways. This domestication + homesteading stuff is fun, but man…it makes leaving more complicated. My life may implode when I have to confront the abandonment issues I’ll encounter when leaving behind a garden next summer. There’s no telling what’ll happen to my emotional state when I take on the responsibility of a cat.
I guess it’ll have to be an adventure cat. Then it’s adorable-ness can break the internet. I’d have to spend all my drive time talking down its massive ‘oh, look at me, I’m an adorable adventure cat’ ego. One cannot safely road trip across the country with the ballooning head of an egomaniac cat obscuring the back window…