I was greeted in Las Vegas with heavy rains. At the airport, there wasn’t much to hide under while I waited for the midnight rental car shuttle to arrive. The shuttle driver told me it rarely rains, and I just missed quite a dry spell. I gritted my teeth and tried to stay optimistic. I wasn’t going to so easily accept that my two weeks alone was off to an unlucky start. My plan was to climb as much as possible, but I’d have to wait til the porous desert rock was dry enough. Wet sandstone crumbles like chalk, too dangerous to play on.

I wasn’t looking at my map for too long. An orange beam of light broke through the clouds from low in the sky, drawing us out of the parking lot a second time. That second wind of the storm was short-lived and we all enjoyed a quiet sunset.

As I drove out, I thought my trip maybe wasn’t off to a bad start. I took advantage of the place I was in rather than sulking about the weather, and it worked out just fine. Unfortunately, my plan the next day of driving to camp at the base of Signal Peak in Utah (10,365ft /3159m) didn’t like it was going to pan out.

I reclined the passenger seat and called it a bed for the night. I knew Signal Peak was out of the question for tomorrow. On a good day, I’d need a pre-dawn start and hustle to make it back in time for what else I had planned. With over two feet of fresh snow, I’d be lucky if I made it a mile without snowshoes. I went to bed thinking that a day out here is better than a day in the office. I checked my phone again to set an alarm, grateful that there wasn’t any service here either.