day 5—beating a dead horse

Ah, our first hiccup—we knew this day would come, but maybe not this soon? The day started when the battery that powers everything inside the van—the stove, lights, fridge, basically our entire setup—decided to be the drama queen of the morning. After breakfast, it wouldn’t stop beeping, and at first, we thought maybe it was just a glitch. But nope. The beeping persisted, a constant reminder of our mechanical responsibilities. 

Trent dove into the manual and got to work troubleshooting. I’m always impressed by how he approaches these things with the patience of a saint like he’s solving an intricate puzzle. A few adjustments later, he silenced the beeping, but we both knew it might not be a permanent fix.

With that out of the way, we decided to head to Dead Horse Point Park, just outside of Canyonlands. As we drove in, I couldn’t help but be struck by how different this place felt from the others we’d seen. The landscape was still vast but had a certain serenity—a wide, open space that seemed to stretch forever, with the land below us carved into deep, graceful curves.

Dead Horse Point Overlook

The colors were more muted, and less vibrant than the reds and oranges we had encountered in other parks. The cliffs and the winding river below were composed of soft browns and dusty golds. The scene resembled a painting touched by time, creating a sense of timelessness that made me feel unfamiliar and deeply connected.

It was New Year’s Eve, so we were determined to cook ourselves a nice meal to celebrate. We got ambitious and decided on steak, sweet potatoes, and broccoli. Halfway through cooking, the stove just... turned off.

So, there we were, staring at one lonely, rare steak and some fully cooked sweet potatoes. Mine was a bit too rare for my taste, but we were too hungry to care. We ate what we could and resolved to go into Moab the next day to get the stove sorted out.

Raaare steak

As we turned in for the night, ready to ring in the new year most unconventionally, the battery decided it wasn’t finished with us. It started beeping again.

And then came the second, separate beep.

The night was supposed to be peaceful, but the beeping was like a cruel reminder that, while we were away from civilization, its problems still followed us. Trent tried everything to fix it—adjusting wires, checking connections, trying to coax the thing into silence. After a few hours of this, he finally surrendered, unable to take it any longer, and passed out. I couldn’t blame him.

It was as though the universe was telling us: “Happy New Year, here’s your first test.”

But that’s the beauty of these moments, right? Even when things don’t go according to plan, there’s something comforting about solving these little challenges together. Maybe not that night, but definitely in the coming days. So, we’d embrace the chaos, even if it meant eating half-cooked steaks and being serenaded to sleep by the endless beep of an unforgiving battery.

There’s no other way I’d want to spend the start of the new year.

We’ll figure it out. We always do.