For several days, the pattern involves a lazy morning at the campsite, followed by a reluctant descent into the heat, a leisurely drive on single-lane backroads for a few hours, and then finally the climb back up into the mountains in search of a spot for the night amidst cooler temperatures.
Each day puts me a little closer to the five or six hour stretch of scorching desert that presents no option to the civilized nomad but to make the crossing in one shot under cover of darkness. Strong incentive to milk these surroundings until the very last moment.
It's a frustrating way to see Utah. Easily one of the most beautiful states in the country, the urge to linger in any one spot is strong.
But when you've got places to be, you do what you can and move on, taking comfort in the promise of inevitable future opportunities to stretch out here at length.
After all, if a nomad could manage to see and do everything the first time he went anywhere, what would he do the next time?