SLOT CANYONS & STARRY SKIES

This adventure, like many good ones, began with a last-minute change of plans.

- Jacob Stoesz

The expected 11-day, mid-October window with no work and no kids was an opportunity that demanded bold action. (While I’m a husband and father of two small children—my wild days seemingly behind me—every so often I act out foolishly.)

The advance plan was simply to put in on the Mississippi River near St. Paul, Minnesota, and see how far downriver I could get sailing, rowing and occasionally lowering the mast for low bridges.

The morning of expected launch, the forecast called for highs in the 30s, rain for the entire week and the river at flood stage. How does an 18-hour drive to Utah’s Lake Powell sound?

I picked up my pristine, avocado-green Wayfarer, SN 3481— last registered in the 1990s—earlier in the fall. I had only sailed it once prior to the trip, but everything seemed to be in order, if a bit crude in rigging and baggy in the sails. I quickly made a pair of 10-foot oars, stitched up a canvas boat tent and stowed all my backpacking gear aboard. The boat was packed and I merely made a right turn for Utah instead of driving the few miles to St. Paul.

Southwest Utah is a special place to me. The unexpected beauty, the isolation, the Mars-like terrain is in stark contrast to my home state’s boreal forest. I’ve spent considerable time there and I love it dearly. Like a bear trap grabbing your leg, the desert hides its majesty and adventure until you are right upon it.

I put in a day-and-a-half later to windless inky water and a perfect sunny sky. I like rowing, I told myself, and I was off. The first strokes on the water were the first I have ever put into the boat. New oars, new locks, new sockets…it all seemed pretty good.