I used to think I was meant to be a dog. I often forget this, but between the ages of around five and eleven I believed in reincarnation. The first evidence of that was that when I heard the song that goes "Where you there, where you there, on that Christmas night...?" I responded:
"I was there! When I was a tree."
The second evidence of it was that I would always insist upon being the dog when my friends and I played house. Why? Because I was quite convinced that I used to be one, that I somehow had a doggy soul inside me.
So there's that.
I was reminded of this over the weekend, when I was on one of the best trips of my life. We happened to be on the topic of spirit animals.
Which made me incredibly curious whether or not I could actually find what mine is.
Maybe one day.
Anyway, this fantastic trip I was on. Let me tell you about it.
I went to Moab with six of the best people in existence. We climbed arches, explored canyonlands, bought ice cream, ate lots of nuts and oranges, definitely did not get scurvy, and just as definitely had plenty of good times and bonding moments.
The day we traveled out was full of the usual: packing, deciding who would go in which car, listening to music and other road-trip-like things.
It also consisted of some of the not-so-usual: Things like "Oh, Cathy!" and reveling in a newly discovered common love for the music of Alabama.
We got to Moab late enough that many of the campsites were full. We managed to find some overflow camping - hallelujah - where we could set ourselves and our belongings for the night. And set we did.
The next morning, we woke when our bodies decided to get up - which was surprisingly early; around 7:30AM. Really roughin' it. We had a breakfast of muffins and oranges, then began our quest for a proper campsite. We soon found one where the current residents were about to depart. We then moved our camp, which was an adventure in and of itself, let me tell you. We attempted to cause the need for as little re-setting up as possible, and thus were carrying half-collapsed tents across the street and down the campground. At first, us girls were carrying our tent upright, by the poles. We looked like we could have been carrying a Sultan in there. It was quite the sight to see.
After setting up, Becky made us ladies feel like we were at girls' camp again by french braiding our hair. She was nice enough to do this more than once throughout the trip.
We all looked fab, of course.
And then we were off.
On the first day, we explored Arches. 
Both days were full of discovery and trail-blazing. Only, we didn't always blaze *on* the trail. We only went on four official hikes during our time there, but we made our own route and climbed into the unknown so often that our hikes probably ended up being twice as long as they were originally.
We climbed rocks and arches that looked and felt quite dangerous. Nicole scared us with her daring adrenalin bursts. Patrice took lots of lovely - and not so lovely - pictures, and was generally prepared for just about everything. We were serenaded by the angel voices of Ben and Brett with songs from Aida, by Michael Buble, and other wonderful selections.
Kamree conquered her fear of heights and climbed all over the place. Brett demonstrated ultimate gentlemanly-ness by staying behind during the tricky climbing to make sure all of us got through safely.
I caused a scare by trying to hop my way to finding an alternate access point to the double arch, - hoping to find something more simple than this little diddy>>
...and ending up on the taller of the two arches, probably over 100 feet above the ground. That arch is now infamous because of how windy and scary it was.
And I was Loving every bit of it.
At hiking's end, we were probably all a little dehydrated - despite the Costco pack of water we went through - and we had swollen fingers. Which I still don't quite understand.
Friday night was full of hanging around the Colorado River...
...or in it - crazy boys
...roasting dogs and 'mallows, and laying in a circle looking up at the cloud-covered sky. It was all very rejuvenating.
We discovered that we had some pretty neat-o neighbors, who apparently had a heaping supply of neat-o liquor, which was politely declined. Neat-o.
After the shenanigans, we all went to sleep. The girls in the tent, Brett in his hammock, and Ben on the picnic table (the boys' tent was being uncooperative).
Then came "the hurricane." A few hours after we were all asleep, it began to rain. Just little drips, but it was also incredibly windy. The blusteringness of it shook our tent so much that we all woke up. I heard Brett groan and mumble something, but was too out of it to realize what it was. A few minutes later, I hear Ben and Brett rustling around outside. The other girls and I woke up and discovered that they were putting up the rain-cover for our tent.
What champions.
"It only started raining a little, but I knew it could get ugly fast." Brett responded when we commented on their heroic deeds.
Seriously, though - a couple of really swell guys. They were genuinely concerned for our well-being the entire trip. They are truly amazing, and I'm very glad I know them.
The next day was much like the first.
We hiked to a couple of lookout points that made us feel like we were standing on Pride Rock looking down into Mordor...
did Yoga on Whale Rock...
...and then went to town for gas and food before the trek home.
Can I just say, we gave poor Jon at Cabo's a really hard time.
---If I don't normally eat fish, will I like these?
---Will this fill me up?
---Excuse me, I have another question...
---Becky smiles.
But, he seemed to think we were a hoot, so I suppose all is well. Who knew there was such a thing as Big Boy Nachos and Man Sauce (props to Brett for actually drinking the stuff).
We finished up exploring town by ooh-ing and aah-ing over color changing sun-wear, strange sweaters, dirt-shirts, drug-rugs, and interesting horse paintings.
Then we piled in cars to head home.
I Love this bunch of goofs, so incredibly much. Thank you for such a fun time. I needed this trip more than you will probably ever know.
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