Moab, UT. My church, the native heart of soul for me. A filling station when everything becomes empty. I’ve been coming here for over 20 years; rain, shine, snow or wind…doesn’t matter. Work or play – I find a way. This time, however, it’s clear that my church is overwhelmed…finally. It’s been popping seams for years now, but this time, even the locals admit the limit has been passed. In our travels (we live full-time in our Grand Oppression Palace, a 39′ Fifth-wheel), we lucked into a camping spot for 1 week at Ken’s Lake. I’d never spent time here and it’s a regret.
This place is beautiful and contradictory!
Human-made lake, human designed waterfall that perfectly blends. I hiked to it’s base and experienced…before it too is overrun.