This past weekend, the forecast called for snow and unseasonably low temperatures. All of Durango seemed to be eyeing the mountains for one last ski expedition. Meanwhile, I was going to the desert. Admittedly the idea gave me pause, particularly the prospect of flash floods. Despite the skies rumbling with clouds and the snow-covered grass, we departed. How bad could it be?
I love these fly-by-the-seat weekends. We wound up camping at Hite under mottled skies and waking up to high clouds and perfectly cool weather. On Saturday, we biked up a dirt road, hiked up a canyon, and lolled about all afternoon amid towering red cliffs and blue skies. The next day, we set off in packrafts on the Dirty Devil River, a tiny and notoriously unpredictable thread that winds through sandstone canyons. The flows were perfect and we didn’t see a single other party—and nary a raindrop. At least temporarily, the weekend weather gods smiled upon us. Grateful. A few photos from the awesome adventure photographer Whit Richardson: