As one of the leaders of Mountaineer Media—my university’s media production company—I had the opportunity this last weekend to attend the Moab Film Festival. My last excursion to the friendly desert community in eastern Utah was a half-decade ago. Back then, I was a fledgling photographer with bad practices and an over-inflated ego. Outside of being able to attend the film festival, returning back to the small desert town afforded me the opportunity to prove my faculties in the craft had flourished.

On Saturday, the first day of the film festival, the first premiere didn’t start until 7 P.M. That gave me all day to explore and adventure. As with most of my outdoorsy “vacations”, my alarm sounded long before the sun even contemplated rising. I had prepared the night before, and quietly slipped out the door before my roommates could wake up. My first destination was the Fisher Towers. I wanted to arrive at morning light.

After some driving, I was parked and heading down the trail. To the east, the sky began to light up, and the silhouette of Fisher Towers emerged against a backdrop of indigo sky. Even without seeing detail in the rock, I could still appreciate the imposing monoliths above me. The trail wound circuitously below many of the towers. The way forward held plenty of up-and-down, but the hike still felt easy.

I realized as the sun continued rising that this would have been more colorful as a sunset hike. The morning light was obscured behind the towers, muting the colors of the orange Cutler and Moenkopi sandstone that I could see. Looking south, I could see parts of the Castle Valley, including the Castleton Tower and a series of formations by it with names like “Priest and Nuns”, an iconic vista to this part of the United States.

Behind me, to the west, light began to flood the other side of the valley, right above the Colorado River.

I rushed along, hoping the trail would eventually lead to a view of the east-facing aspects of the towers. My rush was not unrewarded. The trail angled south, below a tower named The Titan, and as I continued, I could finally see brilliant golden sunlight colliding with the backside of stone. I took a break and watched the sun rise, its light touching the desert floor.

Ding. My phone reminded me that I was going to miss the hotel’s complimentary breakfast if I didn’t get moving.

I gathered my gear and headed back down, weaving to and fro between and underneath the towers now illuminated with daylight.

I sped back, inhaled breakfast, and got the other members of Mountaineer Media ready for an easier hike.

Our easy hike destination was Corona Arch. Corona Arch is famous because of a video on Youtube that shows some adrenaline junkies swinging from it. Sadly, arch-swinging from Corona has since been banned by the BLM. No matter to us: we arrived at the already-busy parking lot and prepared to experience more of what the desert had to offer.

The way forward was smooth and slightly uphill, like a rocky treadmill set to a low incline. The route was guided by segments of a trail and several cairns. Some sections of the trail had ladder-like contraptions to help those who could not negotiate rocky obstacles. It didn’t take long before the famous arch—and the crowds of tourists below it—came into view.

As we approached, I detoured and explored a natural pseudo-cave.

We also passed by another natural landmark named the Bowtie Arch. Looking fancy, I thought. I suppose the desert is always black tie-optional.

The crowds seemed to thin a bit as we reached the Corona Arch. Clouds obscured the sky, but it was still warm, and they didn’t seem to threaten bad weather. The fluctuating crowds forced me to work hard to find angles and times at which I could capture the Corona Arch unblemished.

We stopped for a break and group photo below the arch, I enjoyed a cider (a seasonal Angry Orchard Maple cider, which I recommend!), and we prepared for our short journey back.

At the car, before I prepared for another hike, I agreed to drop off at the hotel two of those who had accompanied me. I mean, it’s Moab! Why not hike as much as possible?!

The Hidden Valley trail had been recommended to me as hike near downtown. We still needed to eat dinner and get presentable for the film festival, and I decided a close-by hike would be smart. Lane, the only other remaining adventurer in the car, seemed up for the challenge of the uphill slog the Hidden Valley trail would include.

The trail itself starts with immediate elevation gain.

Lane and I ascended the six hundred feet of gain quickly, leaving the “suburbs” of Moab far below us.

We traded our ascent for more level ground as we reached the gates of the Hidden Valley. To our south, behemoth sandstone rose high above us. We trotted alongside the crimson rocks as we traversed the valley floor.

Behind us, to the east, the La Sal Mountains prodded the sky with their ice-capped summits, an odd contrast to the arid desert we hiked upon.

As we continued along the flat section, we ran into a few BLM workers. They advised we continue down the trail but take a right at an upcoming fork so that we could find some petroglyphs. Ancient art seemed like a fine alternative to valley-walking, and we eagerly proceeded. We located a fork, took a right, and followed a smaller trail. The trail looped around a bluff and became fainter and fainter as we followed along.

The directions of the BLM workers seemed to become more and more confusing. We ended up losing the trail entirely, bushwhacking, finding a jeep road, and following that to another bluff that looked like potential petroglyph canvas.

The canvas was blank, leaving us slightly disoriented. I was a bit bummed about not finding the petroglyphs but understood our need to get back to town. We located the road again and began following it. Unfortunately for us, the road lead to a cliff. From this vantage point, however, we had an excellent view of downtown Moab.

That’s where we need to be! We agreed to bushwhack back to familiar terrain so we could return to the car. The bushwhacking was a little tedious, but not overly time-consuming. We reconnected with the trail and beelined toward the car. Hunger clawed at our stomachs, and it was almost time for the film festival. We descended the steep portion of the trail and sped back into town, eager for some culinary indulgence.

In this adventure blog, I won’t detail the film festival itself, but it was fantastic. We enjoyed three great films that night. Our trip to Moab entailed good times, good hikes, and good films, all with good company.

Until next time, my friends: stay adventurous!