Spring Camping Moab 2025
Moab 2025: Climbing, Canyon Skies, and Mild Mayhem
It wouldn’t be a proper Moab trip without a little drama to kick things off—and this year, the mountains delivered. As folks packed up and hit the road, a winter storm rolled through Colorado, shutting down passes and sending GPS routes into full improvisation mode. Some cars got rerouted adding a few hours to the drive. But thankfully everyone rolled into Kane Creek with spirits high and tires mostly intact. The group site, nestled beneath towering cliffs and streaked with desert color, was a welcome sight after the white-knuckle drive, even if it was in the dark for some.
As tents popped up and camp chairs circled into formation, the desert offered its first gift of the weekend: perfect weather. Not too hot, not too cold—just the kind of mild, golden air that makes you forget what month it is and lean fully into being outside. Although the nights did get a bit chilly.
Climbing was the main event, and we wasted no time getting to it. First up was Ice Cream Parlor, a favorite crag just a short drive from camp. With routes ranging from beginner-friendly to spicy, there was something for everyone, even the human-cairn.
Midway through the trip, we traded ropes for hiking boots and headed out to Dead Horse Point State Park. The panoramic views from the overlook—where the Colorado River loops through the canyons like a lazy serpent—are always breathtaking, no matter how many times you’ve seen them. We unintentionally split off into hiking groups, meandering along the rim and soaking in the surreal beauty of the desert. And, in classic group trip fashion, a few of us managed to get left behind. Twice. (No one was permanently abandoned, though some may never let us forget it.)
The next day, we took on Wall Street, Moab’s iconic roadside climbing corridor. It’s a surreal place—towering sandstone routes just steps from the pavement. You can literally belay from the bumper of your car if you want to. We climbed until our fingers gave out, and the crowds grew to uncomfortable levels.
Evenings at camp were filled with the good stuff: firelight, warm meals, new friends, and the loud laughter and lively late-night conversation under a sky full of stars. One afternoon Brian decided the view from camp wasn’t quite enough and took off solo up the canyon rim. We watched his silhouette climb higher until he disappeared, just as night fell. On his way back down, his flashlight cut a steady path through the darkness—briefly catching on rock faces and ledges as he picked his way down, quiet and alone above the rest of us.
Tuesday morning reminded us that the desert doesn’t give you anything for free. We woke to gusting winds and rain barreling down the canyon like it had a personal vendetta against tent stakes. It was a chaotic, sand-blasted pack-up—but honestly, it just made the trip feel complete. A soft ending wouldn’t have been nearly as fun to talk about.
To everyone who made it out: thank you. Thanks for braving the roads, the weather, and the (minor) group logistics chaos. Thanks for bringing your energy, your laughter, your willingness to unplug and just be present in a wild place. It’s not easy to carve out time for a long weekend outdoors—but it’s worth it every time.
Until next year—stay upright, stay adventurous, and keep a tarp handy just in case.
