THE FIRST MORNING 4/22/08

The alarm goes off at 6:30. Were it any other day, if I didn’t look out and see the red rock bluffs rising above the Colorado River in some morning sunlight creeping in from the East, I’d sleep in. I don’t sleep it. A quick splash of water, a quick collecting of my things (sunscreen, an apple, my notebook), and I’m out the door, walking alongside the river.

On the way to the resort restaurant, I pass by our Land Rovers. They’re all lined up at the front entrance to the resort, glistening, waiting for us. They’ve been fueled and prepped by our Land Rover Adventures team.

Breakfast is perfect. Hot food if you want hot food. Cereal if you want cereal. And some great, ambling morning conversation (Hillary won Pennsylvania). I have a bowl of bran flakes (people say it’s good for you, but it doesn’t taste nearly as good as the scrambled eggs I have with potatoes and green peppers—the resort’s kitchen knows a thing or two about great food).

Then we’re all up from the table, and outside, standing in the cool morning air—loading up. Lots of gear in the back of our LR3.

We meet the other folks in the group. There are twelve of us. A Range Rover enthusiast from the East Coast. Wistful blue eyes. Retired. He made his reservations just days before, heading out here on a whim.

There are two father and son teams. A duo with roots in the South. A wedding photographer and human resources director. The father here with his son as a graduation gift. The other father/son duo: a political science doctor and an anesthesiologist from Salt Lake City. Palpably excited like the rest of us.

Our instructors are three. Jim is there. So is Ken Cameron, a former military topography specialist, and a self-professed dabbler in all things vehicular. And then there’s the director of this entire adventure program. Robert Burns. Sandy, salt and pepper hair. He could be a distant relative to Chuck Norris. Or maybe a cross between MacGuyver, Eric Clapton, and Phil Lesh. A man whom, as I’ll find, has a profound passion for the natural world, and an almost unfathomable knowledge of Land Rovers.

Each us—whether familiar with off-road driving or not—are all here for the same reason. We share a need for rare experiences, and have a rather large affinity towards the landscapes that surround us. We love Land Rovers, too. All of us.

Burns goes over the basics. Hand signals—the gestures that each of the instructors will be giving us as they guide is through the difficult parts of the terrain—are covered. As is our destination. We’re off to the Poison Spider Mesa Trail today. It’s a twelve-mile winding path of petrified sandstone called “slick-rock”, a tightly-grained sandstone that grips our vehicles perfectly.

We all mount up. Burns takes the lead LR3, leading the pack of Land Rovers out the front gates of the resort. After twenty minutes of sweetly winding roads curving alongside the Colorado, we’re suddenly looking up at canyons of red rock. Straight, beautiful canyons on either side of the road. This is “Wall Street”—90 degrees of sheer rock sandstone, rising straight up from the ground.

But these aren’t normal sandstone walls. A closer look (we all pull over and walk up to the rocks), reveals ancient Anasazi petroglyphs—timeworn drawings carved into the sides of the antediluvian sandstone. Warriors standing with shields. Families with arms interlocked, standing against the ticking of time. The carvings are from 600-1300 AD. So very long ago.