I’m camped out on Gooseberry Mesa, southern Utah. It’s perfect. My spot overlooks the back side of Zion NP. The first time I was here was close to 30 years ago. There was nothing here and hardly anyone knew about it. We ran into the Harris brothers from Hurricane who had just started building trail on this boney, juniper strewn mesa. The word “trail” was an exaggeration. Almost every inch had to be built up or down with transitional rock. Brutal work. The Harris’ had come up here in their youth to look for arrowheads and one day they brought their beat down old bikes and started riding around; mostly on dirt roads but since they knew the area so well, they figured why not explore…

I moved back to NC a number of years ago for family reasons and rediscovered old haunts and people. Lots had changed. I grew up close to Thomas Wolfe’s old place and it’s true, coming home ain’t the same.

Mom died a couple of years ago and there’s less calling me east. After 20 years in CO and exploring the area, I’m back in the Desert Southwest now and revisiting old haunts and people. Some things never change. Some do.

As with any great place we’ve visited, it’s always good to check back in from time to time. To remember why it was so cool, why we were there in the first place and hope that it hasn’t changed too much.

I’ll keep coming back…