[Lake Powell]

I put my fully loaded kayak in a skiff that I rented from Antelope Point Marina in Page, Arizona. A guy John drove me 52 miles north into Utah to Oak Canyon and dropped me off.

It was hot, windy, and the sun was blasting, and I sat on a spit of sandstone and had a sinking feeling of “okay, here I am. What the hell am I doing here?” I couldn’t see any decent campsites so got in the kayak and started paddling. Huge gusts of wind whipped up white caps that came flowing over the bow of the kayak. I stayed close to shore and after about an hour found a decent campsite.

The wind was blowing so hard as I unpacked that I had to cover my face from the stinging sandstone particulate. It’s really tough to pitch a tent in such wind, but by 4:00 I was inside. Hot. Sandy. Letdown. The evening wind blew so hard that I had to cover the tent stakes with heavy rocks. Sand rained in all night – blown up between the rain fly and right through the netting of the main tent fabric. I could see it falling through the flashlight beam. I was covered in a layer of red dust by morning.